#i feel like they completely rewired my brain when it comes to how i think about music

[geeky-politics-46]

Party For Two

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky discuss what he wants to do for his birthday and what he wants as his present.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, light dirty talk, pet names, language, creampie, Bucky in his underwear needs a warning all its own

You could seriously just watch Bucky walk around in his underwear all day and be happy as a clam. You've told him before, and you'd tell him again. That he should just not wear clothes when you two were spending the day at home. 

It didn't matter if he threw on a shirt. Some days, having his arm and his scars completely visible bothered him. Sometimes he had phantom limb pain and needed the arm off completely, prefering to cover his scars as you tried to help with the residual nerve damage in his shoulder and back. 

Shuri did a lot, but she couldn't rewire the mess of his nervous system Hydra had left behind. Despite your assurance that you loved every inch of him, you would never push him to do something he didn't want to do. Some days were harder than others and you made sure he felt safe and loved even on his worst days. So your main rule was just no pants.

A man in his underwear should not turn you into this much of a hot horny mess, especially when you get to see him totally naked regularly. Although Bucky was an incredible specimen of a man.

Even now, you could see his lips moving, but your brain could not process the words he was saying. Not when those tight boxer briefs made his ass look like you could just bite into it. Not to mention how they perfectly cupped his bulge. The way you could just slightly see his cock and balls jiggle as he walked. It felt dirty but still kind of sweet. 

It made you just want to play with his cock. Not necessarily in a hand job sexual way, but just hold it and pet it. Tell him how pretty and perfect his cock was. Gently massage and rub his balls and kiss all over him. He did have the prettiest cock. 

You also loved how much he blushed whenever you told him how pretty his cock was. The old-fashioned boy from the 1940's was still taken aback by such words coming from your pretty little mouth. Even if it was a genuine compliment he still wasn't used to hearing a sweet pretty thing like you talk so openly about liking cock. Especially his. Especially when he wasn't already balls deep inside you.

Bucky agreed to the deal on the condition that you also wore no pants. You were allowed to throw on shorts or pj's on occasion, but only ones Bucky liked. Usually, you just went for an oversized shirt. 

Honestly, the two of you became quite the pair of hermits or homebodies. Your happy place was your apartment. Just the two of you, and Alpine, of course. You had all settled into your little domestic routine quite well. You couldn't help the little contented sigh that left your lips.

It was then that you realized Bucky had stopped talking and was staring back at you, trying not to laugh at your deer in headlights expression. You were caught red-handed, staring at him again. He couldn't be too mad about you not listening if you were gonna look so cute when busted.

"You know I think you have a bigger staring problem than I do, babydoll."

You could feel your cheeks blush as you both dissolved into little giggles. You knew he wasn't mad, but you still apologized anyway once you composed yourself. 

"I'm sorry, Buck. You are just too sexy sometimes for my brain to do anything but stare at you. I kinda like you, ya know." 

You gave him a teasing smirk punctuating your statement. Saying I love you was still new to the two of you, but Bucky would say it over and over the first few days. You couldn't help but tease him about it. All out of your own love for him though, and he knew it.

"Well, if you had been listening, you would know that Sam is inevitably going to try to throw me some sort of birthday party. He's been dropping hints for days, but if he asks please tell him we already have plans. I don't care what, but I really don't want a party." 

Of course, that's right. Sam had been after you about trying to do something for Bucky’s birthday. Sam wanted to go out and do something bigger. You knew all Bucky wanted to do for his birthday was be alone. It was hard for him think about all the birthdays, all the years, he had lost. He wanted to mark the day by enjoying the life he had waited so long for. 

He had waited so long to be at peace. Even though he still had missions to go on and work to do in the field, and in his own head, he felt a stability that he had always dreamed of. He had an apartment. Even if it wasn't the most put together. He had a pet. Alpine the fluffy white feline rescue who has helped him just as much as he helped her. 

Most importantly, he had you. He had an amazing girl that he wanted to settle down with. Create a home with. One day marry and have babies with. Assuming he could. He really didn't know if Hydra had done anything to affect his fertility. He didn't really want to know. For now, the 2 of you and Alpine was enough though.

That was what he wanted to celebrate, and he wanted to celebrate it by staying in with you. Just you, take out, tv or movies. Then, of course he planned to cash in his birthday points on dirty noise-complaint-getting loud sex. Some people may think it sounded boring, other than the sex part maybe, but that was exactly what he loved about it. 

You could see him planning out the evening he really wanted in his mind. He always joked about not wanting anyone else in his head, but he did love that you seemed to be able to read his mind. 

"What if I tell Sam that we are having a party and he just isn't invited? That it's a party just for two. Just you and me. I'll even let you pick dinner." 

He pretended to think about it as he walked over to the side of the couch you were on. Reaching across the arm of the sofa to help you up onto your knees so he could wrap his arms around your waist. Letting yourself slide up his muscular chest and link behind his neck. A mischievous smile curled up on his lips.

"I like the sound of that. I do still want cake though. Are you planning any party games?" 

You nodded at his request. Oh you were planning on cake, ice cream, whipped cream, chocolate syrup. Basically, any sort of dessert that could be enjoyed in both appropriate and inappropriate ways. 

"Well cake is a given of course. I'm sure we can find all sorts of creative ways to enjoy it too. As far as games, I do have a couple things in mind. Tell me how do you feel about naked Twister?"

He grabbed your waist a little tighter and growled a little at the idea of the two of you bent into all sorts of compromising positions. His blood starting to rush to his groin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

"You know, I may need a little practice. Why don't we have a little practice party right now? Just so I know what to expect on my birthday." 

You smiled and shook your head at him, he knew you were a sucker for that look he got when he was feeling frisky. The crooked little grin, the way he would bite his lip, and the way his pretty blue eyes would sparkle. It was like your lips were pulled to his by a magnet. Moving closer on their own volition. 

Not that you mind of course. Your thoughts had already been in the gutter from watching Bucky strut around the house in those tight boxer briefs. Now you knew his was there too. The feeling of his bulge hardening against you, confirming that and making you wiggle your hips in anticipation.

He pulled back so his lips were barely touching yours, eliciting a needy little whine from you. You wanted more of him. You always wanted more of him. His hands started to slide down your low back to cup your ass cheeks, bending his knees a little so he could get a firm hold on you. 

"Mmm, can smell you, babydoll. You smell so good. Know you taste even better though. Taste even sweeter than that birthday cake will. I want a taste, baby girl."

He almost effortlessly scooped you up off the couch, your legs quickly swinging to wrap around his waist. Alpine had abandoned the couch to go hide under the table the minute you two started getting lovey. So without fear of stepping on her tail he practically sprinted to your shared bedroom, plopping you down unceremoniously onto the bed before lunging so he was on top of you. 

His lips hurried back to connect with yours in a frenzy of playful, passion filled kisses. Letting your hands wander up and down each others bodies, rubbing and touching any bit you could grab. Slowly working to get your hand down to rub over his cock. Straining against the soft fabric of his underwear. Still getting harder as you massaged him. 

You pulled your lips away from his so you could admire his cock in your hand. Even though it was still hidden behind the dark fabric, you couldn't help the way you licked your lips and moaned at the sight. He was just so perfect and thick. You knew the serum hadn't changed his height and size near as dramatically as Steve, but it did effect his muscle mass. You had a little bit of a hope that it had made his cock this thick. Otherwise those girls in the 40's wouldn't have survived.

"Starting to think you might be a little obsessed with my cock, babydoll." 

He teased you as he started kissing and sucking at your neck. Letting you enjoy your view as he let his hips occasionally roll and rut into your hand. You hummed in agreement as he began teasing his vibranium hand up and under your shirt. 

"Can't help it, baby. It's just so fucking perfect and big. Fills me up so good. So much better than any of my toys. Plus I kinda love the man it's attached to." 

He nuzzled his face into your neck before you felt him grin against your skin. He whispered an "I love you too baby…". Suddenly moving quickly and knocking your balance out from you as he in one smooth move threw off the shirt you were wearing and rushing to get your panties off just as fast. Leaving you suddenly naked underneath him. 

"... I'm also kind of obsessed with this pretty pussy. So I guess we're even." 

His body dropping to the bed and your legs thrown over his shoulders as he descended on you. Wet kisses along the crease of your inner thigh, just shy of where you desperately wanted his lips. Jumping to the other side and letting his warm breath dance across your dripping sex.

You could feel his bright blue eyes on you as he placed his first long lick up your slit. Making sure to cover every inch from your tight light hole up to your clit. Stopping to place several small kisses and kitten licks on the bundle of nerves. Hearing your breath already starting to falter.

Bucky loved eating you out. It wasn't something he remembered doing more than maybe once or twice before you, and he can't remember enjoying it nearly as much back then as he did now. Maybe he was more selfish back then. Maybe those women had just been less secure and open about what felt good. Women being so vocal about enjoying sex was pretty taboo in his day, but the way you reacted to his mouth on you made him obsessed. 

Each time you moaned as swirled his tongue around your clit. Each time you would grind against his face as he thrust his tongue inside you. Each time you would pull his hair as rubbed his whole face farther into your wet cunt. It all made him want to spend the rest of his life wirh his head between your thighs. Not even caring that he usually ended up so worked up he would start humping the mattress underneath him in an unconscious effort by his cock to get some sort of attention. 

He didn't even want to stop after he heard you whine and moan his name when you came. Why would he stop when he had the opportunity to lick up even more of your sweet nectar from your orgasm? No, he only stopped when he had his fill of  feasting on your cunt and your cum. Leaving you teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 

"Definitely my favorite treat. Hell fuck the cake, I just want your pussy as my birthday treat. What you think, doll? Can I have your pretty slutty little cunt as my birthday present? Can I eat it and play with it and fuck it whenever and however I want?" 

By now he started working his way back up your body as you clung to sheets arching into his mouth as he moved. Pressing your breasts against his face as he reached your chest. Greedily encouraging him to take one of your nipples into his mouth as his metal fingers pinched at the other. The contrast of his warm mouth and the cool vibranium making your skin prickle into goosebumps. 

After switching sides, making sure to give both perky pebbled nipples the attention they deserved, he made it back up to your lips. Kissing you once before nipping at your lower lip playfully. 

You had already wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull his pelvis to yours. Your fingers now tangled and tugging at the fabric of his boxer briefs trying to get them down. Desperately trying to get his cock free so you could feel him against your still soaked and needy cunt. 

"I'm waiting for an answer baby, tell me and then I'll take these off. Fuck you nice and hard. Can I have your perfect tight little hole as my birthday present? I want to spend my party making you scream and cum all over my cock." 

The sound of his filthy birthday wish pulled a deep groan from your chest. You wanted to spend his party doing that too, and what the birthday boy wants the birthday boy gets. You let your body go lax so he would be able to easily position you however he wanted you as you answered. 

"Yes, Bucky, holy fuck yes! My pussy is all yours, birthday boy. Use it however you want, James. All for you." 

"That's my good girl." 

He got back up on his knees and shimmied his underwear down and kicking them off. You eyes glued to his cock before it even sprung free from the fabric. A whimper falling from your mouth when a dribble of pre-cum dripped from his swollen flushed cockhead onto your low belly. A string of fluid running from his cock and starting to make a mess on you. He knew by the look in your eyes that he had you in the palm of his hand. So you promptly obliged when he told you what he wanted next. 

"Spread your legs farther, babydoll. Pull them back and hold onto your ankles for me. I want to see every little bit of my present." 

Quickly you worked to fold yourself in half as best as you could. Opening you up even more to Bucky’s gaze. His eyes raking over your body as be stroked his length a few times. Stopping only when you started to wiggle your hips, trying to urge him to touch you.

"Impatient, aren't you baby?" 

His tongue darting out to lick his lips, still swollen for having his face buried in your pussy, before a faux pout crossed his face. Cooing lightly at you as he started slapping his cock on your sensitive cunt. 

"God you look so fucking good when you get all needy for my cock baby. Saw you get that look in your eyes earlier. Knew that smart little brain had stopped thinking of everything but my cock. It's all yours baby." 

He placed his tip at your entrance and slowly started to push his hips forward. Sliding himself into you one inch at a time. Letting you feel every little bit of stretch he gave you. The feeling making you both moan in pleasure. Stilling in place once he had bottomed out inside you. 

"Fuck darlin', that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Look so beautiful getting fucked with my bare cock baby."

You gave him a seductive look and bit your lip. 

"Happy early birthday baby." 

With that, he gingerly drug his hands from the backs of your heels all the way down to the backs of your thighs. Gripping onto the flesh there and bracing you for his next move. Bucky slowly started to pull his hips back and started building speed with his first thrust back in. 

A feral look in his eyes as he watched where his cock was impaling you. Hypnotized by the sight. The image of your pussy stretched tight around his cock. The way his cock shined, wet with your arousal. It tipped him over the edge when he started hearing the wet squelch of your pussy as he thrust into you spurring him on to fuck you harder. 

The headboard starting to thump against the wall under the force of Bucky’s thrusts. A litany of swears falling from both of you. Your moans and squeaks as he pounded you accented by the sound of his full balls slapping against your ass. Each of you getting closer to climax with each sound the other made.

When he could feel his balls starting to tighten and he knew he was close to blowing, he let his flesh hand dip to rub at your clit. Smearing your wetness around to make his action smoother.  

After a moment of him touching your clit he found the perfect speed and spot. Feeling the fire start burning in your belly you let your eyes roll back in your head. 

"Oh fuck Bucky, right there! Don't stop, baby please don't stop!" 

His hips only sped up even more at your reaction. 

"Oh don't worry, dollface. I'm not stopping until I make a mess in my birthday present. You want that babydoll? You want to cum in you pretty girl? Let me hear it baby." 

Few things could throw you over the edge quite like Bucky when he talked dirty. It fueled that fire in your belly and sent it boiling over. As you came undone on his cock you practically cried for him to cum inside you. Your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his cock, practically milking him.

"James!!! Cum in me please, fuck I'm cumming for you baby. God you make me cum so good. It's your pussy daddy. Fuck it and fill it please, please!" 

By the time you had finished cumming, you felt his cock start to throb as he climaxed. Your body still jerking from your own orgasm with each stream of cum you felt him shoot into you until you were nearly overflowing. 

After a few minutes of basking in each other's afterglow, Bucky eventually pulled out of you with a groan and rolled over. Promptly grabbing you up in his arms again and pulling you over to cuddle. Pressing kisses into your hair as you drew little patterns on his chest. 

"If this is what I can expect for my birthday party, then happy birthday to me indeed." 

You gave him a wicked grin as you looked up at him. 

"Oh no, Buck, this was just practice. Remember? Your actual birthday party is going to be even more fun."

--------------------------------

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[thiswaytwoinfinity]

color up my skies – bob floyd x fem!reader

Bob Floyd is always beautiful. But there’s something about the way the sunset makes his skin glow and the way that Montana drawl makes your toes curl that means you need to have him … even if you’re on the side of the road.

a/n: finally my entry for IBFFM is complete! This is the first fic I have actually written in months and it feels fitting that it would be for Bob, who stole my heart and introduced me to the TGM fandom. I love it here, y’all. I hope you enjoy my offering.

warnings: smut (18+ only) oral (m receiving), fingering, grinding, unprotected piv (in my mind she’s on bc), praise and breeding kink if you squint, truck sex so kind of public?

tagging @attapullman as a thank you for founding the hottest holiday ever 😉 and a h/t to @withahappyrefrain whose post about bob babbling when he gets close rewired something in my brain

Bob Floyd was always beautiful.

You could list a million instances when you felt stunned by him — when he was bobbing his head along to the music at the Hard Deck, observing his fellow Daggers; rumpled and bleary-eyed in the morning, waiting for his ancient coffee maker to hurry up; standing on your front porch and staring at you in awe, despite the fact that you’ve been together for over a year; flushed and panting with fogged up glasses as he lifts his head up from between your thighs — and still think of more.

But right now, with the pink and orange rays of the fading sunlight illuminating his beautiful cheekbones, the wind ruffling the longer bits of hair that peek out from his beat-up ball cap and those beautiful dimples peeking out, Bob Floyd is downright breathtaking.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the WSO asks, taking a sip from the bottle of soda in his hand. He grins softly as he looks over at you, reclined back on your elbows in the bed of his beloved truck. “You’ve been quiet for a while over there.”

You bite your lip, face heating up a bit as you confess, “You’re just so gorgeous, Bobby.” The tips of his ears turn pink at the praise and he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair before replacing it.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you, darlin’,” he drawls, his accent stronger than ever thanks to the week you two have spent back in his home town.

You had been a little nervous when Bob asked you to come with him on a trip back to Montana after the birth of his nephew. Meeting each others’ parents during their brief trips to San Diego was one thing, but spending two and a half weeks in his childhood home? There were so many ways that could test your relationship.

But eight days into your trip, you were getting to know a whole different side of your beautiful Bob.

“I mean it. Montana looks good on you,” you tell him, reaching out to caress his face with your hand. “I like this whole ‘country boy’ vibe you have going on.”

Bob chuckles, warm and deep, as he gently turns his cheek into your palm. Your thumb gently rubs over one of his dimples, a sign that he’s relaxed and happy. “If I had known that taking you to watch the sunset in my truck would earn me all of these compliments, I woulda done it a lot sooner,” he murmurs.

“Guess you should’ve. Maybe you could have wooed me properly.”

You’re teasing of course; Bob is a complete romantic, surprising you with flowers and picnics on the beach and candlelit dinners at home. “Was this how you impressed all the girls in high school? You’d take them for a ride in your truck?”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and kisses your knuckles before gently entwining your hands together and lowering them to his lap.

“I think you’re overestimating how many girls were interested in me back then,” Bob laughs. You roll your eyes — you’ve seen pictures of your boyfriend in high school, all gangly limbs and round glasses, and you can imagine falling for him back then too. “‘Sides, they all grew up here too. These big fields aren’t all that impressive when you see them every day.”

He leans over and presses one, two kisses to your neck, right above your collar bone. A shiver runs through your body that has nothing to do with the early evening breeze.

“That’s why I saved it for my favorite city girl,” Bob adds, his lips still pressed against your skin. You can feel the smirk on his mouth and it makes you feel a little dizzy.

Bob loved to make fun of you for being a “city girl,” joking about how you were lulled to sleep at night by the sound of sirens instead of crickets and laughing at your refusal to learn how to drive until after college. (Okay, but Bobby, you don’t need a license when you have public transport!) He secretly loved it, though. It gave him a thrill to think about how your vastly different lives converged the day you met at Payback’s engagement party.

Bob’s not sure he believes in fate, but he’s endlessly thankful for whatever forces brought you into his life.

You giggle a little as he continues to kiss and nuzzle his face against your quickly warming skin, hand ghosting up his arm to wrap around Bob’s shoulders and pull him impossibly closer. “Bobby …” you breathe, feeling his teeth gently nip at your collarbone. “Bobby, behave. We’re out in the open.”

Your handsome Navy man just smiles and proceeds to work on sucking a bruise into your neck that will make it very obvious what the two of you got up to when you return to his parents’ house.

“Bob —“ you start again, giving the hair at the nape of his neck a quick tug to try and catch his attention, but all you get in response is a deep groan pressed into your skin. With a smirk of your own, you slide your free hand onto one of Bob’s denim-clad thighs, before giving his hair another, sharper tug. The WSO freezes in place.

“Now, darlin’ …” he drawls, his voice low and rumbly in a way that shoots directly into your core. Bob lifts his head up slowly, his eyes hooded and his beautiful pink mouth shiny and puffy from exertion. “If you want me to start behavin’, you’re gonna need to stop pulling on my hair like that.”

“How come?”

Bob’s big hands come up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes are locked on his. Your chest is heaving as you watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken, that beautiful sky blue turning to a seductive sapphire as his pupils dilate.

“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna have no choice but to take you right here,” Bob explains. “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my time with you out here. Make you fall apart the way I like …”

You let out an involuntary whimper at his words, your eyes fluttering closed as a rush of heat floods through you.

“Or is that something you want, huh?” Bob teases, his lips hovering over yours as he pulls you closer.

“Please, Bobby …” Your voice is breathy, more air than sound as you press your mouth against his. Bob’s thumbs gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours as you let out a soft groan. No matter how long it’s been, Bob always kisses you like he’s just gotten back from a months-long deployment and it makes your head swim with delight.

(It also happens to have been a few days since you’ve had the chance to properly make out, which does nothing to calm the desire pulsing in your veins.)

“Missed you,” you sigh in between kisses and you feel more than hear Bob’s chuckle.

“C’mere baby,” he mutters, sliding one hand under one of your thighs and tugging, manhandling you to straddle his lap with ease.

You let out a little squeak before settling down, pressing your crotch down to feel where he’s already growing hard in his worn-out jeans. Bob curses lowly and wraps those delicious arms around your waist to pull you closer, his hips pushing up into yours unconsciously as his mouth trails from yours to your neck, down, down until he’s peppering kisses across your chest and the top of your cleavage. You can feel the edges of his signature BCGs dig into your soft flesh as Bob works his mouth along the neckline of your sundress.

“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you look in this dress?” Bob asks after running his teeth lightly along your décolletage. “Drives me crazy when you wear it, just wanna pull it up and bend you over, doesn’t matter where we are.”

“Bobby!” you gasp, your nails scratching lightly up and down his biceps. Though he was a perfect gentleman on your first few dates — he even waited for you to kiss him first, blushing deeply when you tugged his face towards yours at the end of your third date — it didn’t take long for Bob to learn how much you liked it when he voiced all of the dirty thoughts running through his head.

It still takes you by surprise sometimes, the way your mild-mannered boyfriend can get you wet with just a few filthy comments.

And fuck are you already wet, rolling your hips against Bob’s as his talented fingers slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he can have better access to your chest. “Need you, need you so bad,” you keen, arching your back to push your breasts closer to your boyfriend’s mouth. “Bobby, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, pulling back from your chest with a luck of reluctance obvious on his beautiful face. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he adds, stilling your hips in his lap. You only realize you let out a whine because of the way he’s rubbing his big hands up and down your sides, trying to soothe you. “Just wanna get you somewhere a little more private. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

You nod almost frantically, your bottom lip between your teeth to try and hold back your moans. Letting out a deep breath, you slide off Bob’s lap and hop down out of the truck bed, your thighs squeezing together when you watch the way his biceps flex as he lifts the tailgate back into place after following.

He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, practically running around to the front of the truck and yanking the door open. Bob holds back a moment, waiting for you to climb in, but instead, you turn him by his hips and push him back into the cab so that he’s sprawled across the bench seat.

“‘M I not moving fast enough for you?” he asks with a laugh, planting one leg on the floor of the car and swinging the other up onto the creaky leather as he slides towards the driver’s side.

In response, you simply grin, before climbing in after him and pulling the door closed behind you.

But instead of laying yourself on top of Bob — which he’s clearly expecting you to do, the way his arms are hanging open to make room for you — you crouch down in the footwell and reach for his belt.

“Wait, baby, you don’t have to —“ he starts, before cutting himself off with a jolt when you cup his blue through the front of his pants.

“I want to,” you insist, fingers quickly working to open his belt and his jeans. “Want you. Want you so bad, Bobby. Next time we’re not staying at your parents’ house. I can’t go this long without touching you, it’s all I can think about.”

Bob tosses his head back with a moan, his hips lifting up as he helps you tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his hard cock. It slaps up against the bottom of his stomach, flushed and already wet at the tip, twitching slightly when you reach out to wrap your hand around the base. You wait a beat for him to lock eyes with you before you lean in and wrap your mouth around the tip, swirling your tongue around it to gather up the bit of precome pooling there.

“Oh, darlin’,” Bob practically growls, the deep timbre of his voice making you moan as you start to bob your head up and down. “Such a perfect fuckin’ mouth. You’re so good to me, baby. So g-good.”

You pull off and give him a long lick from base to tip before attempting to swallow down as much as you can at once. It took a while for you to be able to deep throat Bob like this — he’s so much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before, thick and long and just slightly curved in a way that makes you feel so deliciously full — but Bob was patient and understanding and now you like to show off for him whenever you can.

You pull off to catch your breath, a thin line of spit connecting your mouth to him, before leaning back in working your mouth down to his base, his public hair tickling your nose. You swallow around him and the feeling of your throat closing around his cock makes Bob jump and swear, a fist coming up to hit the roof. The quick buck of his hips makes you cough and sputter and he lifts your head off of him for a second to check in.

“Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that, felt so damn good I lost my mind for a second,” he rambles, chuckling softly, his thumb rubbing at the corner of your smiling mouth. “You okay there?”

Instead of replying, you just giggle and nod, nipping at the tip of Bob’s thumb before you get back to what you were doing, sucking and licking at his cock while stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bob’s stomach flex as he pants and moans above you, words of praise falling from his lips in a dazed ramble.

“So beautiful, you’re so beautiful like this, my gorgeous girl.” A loud moan interrupts his declarations, those big hands sweeping up to hold your hair back out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swallow him down again. “Yeahhhhh, just like that baby, good girl. God, you’re so good to me, love it when I can feel myself all the way in your throat, shit.”

You pull off to breathe before swallowing him down again, fingers cupping and caressing his balls as you hold him there, tip brushing against the back of your throat, enjoying the way Bob’s thighs shake and his hands tighten in your hair.

You repeat the action a few more times, tears staring to run down your cheeks before he suddenly tugs your head up and away from his cock.

“Don’t wan’ come down your throat, darlin’, need to come inside you,” he rambles, petting the sides of you head absently, his eyes fixed on your chest as the straps of your dress slide further down and reveal the soft satin of your bra underneath. “Please, baby, please let me fuck you, gonna fuck you so full ...”

The edge of desperation in Bob’s voice makes you surge up from the floor, climbing into his lap as you kiss him, all tongue and teeth and desire.

“Yes, Bobby, yeah,” you say against his mouth, tugging at his white tee shirt until he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his broad, defined chest makes you rub yourself against him, sticky wet panties brushing against the hot ridge of his hard cock.

As you roll your hips again and again, the lace catches against your clit, making you moan loudly as Bob lifts his hips into yours.

“You’re so wet, darlin,’ I can feel it, I can feel how you soaked right through your panties,” he says, eyes closing briefly at the sensation, before they fly open and he finishes tugging the bodice of your dress down to your waist. He gives your breasts a quick squeeze, letting out a soft grunt before teasing and pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric. “Such a sweet girl, my good girl, and you get so fuckin’ wet just from sucking my cock.”

“Bobby, please, fuck me,” you moan, hips working more frantically against his, chasing your high as he whispers naughty encouragement to you.

“I will, baby, I will,” he promises, voice soothing despite his movements bringing your closer and closer to the edge. He sits up properly in the seat, grabbing you by the hips and moving your body against his. “Wanna see you come like this first, watch you fall apart in my lap, love it when you get desperate like this.”

Bob drops one hand to your lap, working it up the skirt of your dress to meet your soaked panties.

With a low curse, he slides his hand into them, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing in steady circles while you throw your head back and moan at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Fuck, Bob, right t-there, I’m so close baby,” you babble, hips continuing to swivel as you grind against his hand, his cock, edging further and further to your peak, nails scraping down Bob’s torso. His murmured little “c’mon, come for me,” helps push you over with a shout, your body shaking and trembling in his arms as he works you through your orgasm.

“Juuuust like that, so gorgeous baby, so good for me,” Bob says, his thumb slowing down against your clit as you come down from your high. When your eyes flutter open and you take him in, cheeks flushed and glasses slightly fogged from all of the exertion. He barely gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls your panties to the side and begins sliding his cock into you.

You give a shout that turns into a high-pitched whine as you feel the head of him press inside you. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” you babble, walls still fluttering a little as you go to slide all the way down his cock, needing him inside you as quickly as possible.

“Uh-uh, darlin’, slow,” he chastises, grabbing your hips to still you about halfway down his cock. “Don’t wanna hurt you, just take your time, you’re doing so well for me.”

It feels like time slows down as the two of you work to get every inch of him inside, tiny little movements of your hips helping you to take more and more until your hips meet.

You take a moment to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the side before snatching Bob’s hat and doing the same. He doesn’t even seem to register your decision to rid him of his hat, already fixated on your bare chest, moving to suck one of your peaked nipples into his mouth with a moan.

“Love these tits, baby,” he mutters against you and you card your fingers through his hair in response. It’s a little sweaty from hiding under his hat in the heat all day, but you can’t get enough of the way Bob groans and whines as you tug at the longer strands and scratch your nails against his scalp. “Gotta move, darlin’, gotta fuck you now.”

“Yes, yes,” you say, lifting your hips until just his the tip of his cock is still inside you and sliding back down.

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he encourages, words already beginning to slur together as he gets drunk on pleasure. You repeat the motion and he smirks, before tugging one nipple between his teeth to make you keen. “You wanna show me you know how to ride? Huh? C’mon city girl, ride me.”

Bob’s voice gets a little breathy towards the end of his taunt and your moans get louder as you feel him press against that spongey spot within you on each downstroke.

For a while, the only thing you can hear is the sound of skin slapping together, punctuated by groans and growls and the occasional whine when Bob pinches or tugs at your nipples with his teeth, the tiny spark of pain making the pleasure more delicious. He’s so tuned into you that he can sense that you’re getting tired almost before you do, wrapping his arms around you and adjusting so that both of his feet are planted against the floor of his truck and he begins thrusting up into you, giving your burning thighs a break.

His hips move quickly, punching little “unhs” out of you with each thrust, tip bullying your g-spot relentlessly. Your walls begin to tighten and flutter against him and Bob frees a hand to rub two fingers against your clit in a slow, steady motion that contrasts beautifully with the speed of his thrusts.

“Oh my g— fuck, Bob, feels so good. You feel so g-good, love you so much.” You’re not even aware of what you’re saying, words spilling out of your mouth mindlessly as you let Bob bring you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Need to come, Bobby, I’m so close, wanna come for you, please, please,” you beg, peppering kisses all over his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere your lips can reach.

Bob’s fingers speed up, his mouth dropping open to let out a low groan, his face flushed and eyes glassy.

“Yes, good girl, just like that,” he encourages, the bottom of his glasses starting to fog up as a result of his exertion. You moan loudly at the sight, tossing your head back and losing yourself in the feeling of Bob’s talented fingers, his cock, the tension inside you building, building. “Come for me, beautiful, please. Let go for me, so perfect, so good to me, can’t believe you’re mine – shit.”

Your boyfriend’s praise tips you over the edge and you feel that band inside you snap, your vision whiting out at the edges as your walls clamp down on Bob’s cock. You’re shaking and moaning in his arms, gushing around him as he murmurs and works you through it. “Love you, love you, yes, yes, love you baby,” pressed into your clammy skin as Bob can’t bring himself to lift his mouth up from your chest, shoulders, neck long enough to speak clearly.

You come down from your high with one last shudder, walls fluttering around him and making him moan against you. You lean back to take a look at his face - pink and sweaty, a smile on his puffy lips and looking more beautiful than you think you’ve ever seen him before - before cupping it between your hands and kissing him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you just sit there and kiss, could be seconds, could be minutes, but you’re too lost in each other to care.

Eventually, though, your hips start rolling again in his lap, causing Bob to let out little whimpers and moans against your mouth. He lets his teeth tug at your bottom lip before pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “God, you feel so good, honey,” he says, eyes locked on yours as you begin to ride him properly once again.

“Wanna make you feel good, Bobby,” you coo, one hand threading through his damp hair and the other caressing his jaw.

“You a-always do, so good to me, so good baby,” he rambles, breath hitching every time you squeeze around him. “Don’t know how I g-got so l-lucky, can’t believe you’re mine, dar-darlin’.”

Bob’s hips begin thrusting up jerkily to meet yours, his eyes starting to get glassy behind those big frames. Knowing he’s getting close, you gently tug on his hair, short little bursts of pain that drive him crazy and get his hips moving faster.

“Jusss like that, god, you’re taking me so well, doing so well,” he says before grabbing onto your hips and holding you in place and thrusting up into you almost frantically. “Wanna be with you all the t-time, wanna fuck you every day, every night, keep you - yeah, do that again baby, pull my hair like that - keep you full of me.”

You moan at the idea, loving the thought of Bob just taking you whenever he pleases.

“Yeah? T-that what you want? I’ll do it for you, do any-anything for you, gonna fuck a baby into you one d-day and make our own little fa - I’m so close - family,” he cuts himself off with a few more high-pitched moans, eyes slipping shut as if he’s picturing your future together.

The idea of being with Bob, having kids with him, settling down and spending your lives together, hits you like a freight train. You don’t think anything has ever sounded better to you.

“Want that, Bobby, want to be with you forever, wanna have your babies, please, Bobby,” you babble, hands running all over his hands and shoulders to pull him closer, hold him tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, anything you want darlin’, oh my -“ he comes with a shout, eyes squeezing tightly shut and fingers holding onto you so hard that you will probably have bruises on your hips later. (You hope you do, you always wear all of the marks Bob leaves on you with pride.) You feel him twitch inside you, liquid heat making you feel impossibly full. He gives one, two little half thrusts as he finishes, before loosening his grip on your skin.

Fully panting, Bob takes a moment try and catch his breath before opening his eyes slowly. The look of pure adoration on his face almost knocks the wind out of you.

“Well,” he starts with a chuckle, pressing a few chaste kisses to your shoulder. “Nothing like that ever happened to me in high school.”

You bark out a surprised laugh, giggles spilling out as you watch Bob grin and then duck his head. The sun has almost fully set by now, pinks and oranges fading into purples and blues as the two of you laugh in Bob’s truck, faces flushed and glowing in the dusk.

In a minute, Bob will clean you up and help you get dressed, gently kissing you with each item of clothing you wrangle back on.

He’ll give you a look of confusion and then surprise when he realizes that his hat is somewhere underneath the seat and he’ll run his fingers through your hair to help you tame it before settling into the driver’s seat. He’ll rest one of those big, warm palms on your thigh as he drives you both back home, looking over to smile at you at every stop sign and red light.

You’ll both giggle, cheeks warm and eyes downcast when Bob’s mom asks about your afternoon over dinner and he’ll mentally start picking out engagement rings when he watches you bounce his nephew on your knee when the family gathers in the living room afterward.

Later that night, after you’ve both shyly admitted that you were serious about the promises you made to one another in the truck, Bob will smile as he watches the moonlight illuminate your sleeping face.

But for now, you two just enjoy this perfect moment, wrapped in one another as the crickets begin chirping outside. And neither you nor Bob think you’ve ever seen the other look more beautiful.

.

(Are we still doing readmore sacrifices?) Either way, please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!

[moodymisty]

Lately I’ve had blueberry on my mind so I was wondering if you could please do Uriel Venturis in a romantic reltationship with a female reader.

Author's Note: Uriel is so cute I love him, here is something sweet and simple. I’m not proud of it but, whatever.

Relationships: Uriel Ventris/Fem!Reader

Warnings: A brief mention of a space marine being severely injured

"Does it hurt to be in the armor for so long?"

The silence felt too heavy to be manageable as you cut Uriel's hair, trimming it back after weeks of neglect. He's only just returned, hair still somewhat damp from the barracks shower.

"It aches. The armoring suits make it feel fine enough."

It's hard to tell if he's really telling the truth or not; Sores and welts and dents heal so quickly on their skin, Uriel oftentimes says he was shot or stabbed but yet, there will be almost no evidence when you look for yourself.

You shave away the hair at the nape of his neck, and roll your eyes out of his sight.

"What if something itches?"

You're forced to move the blade, as Uriel turns to give you an incredulous look.

"Many of your kind will never place eyes on a space marine, and these are the questions you choose to ask?"

You only smile, trying to hide a guilty and mischievous laugh. Uriel turns back and lets you finish your work.

"I truly wonder if you are worth the effort it takes to hide you from Sicarius."

Hide is a bit extreme of a word; Sicarius and the other marines know that Uriel has a personal serf, however knowledge stops there.

As he wanted it to. He doubts things would go well if it was found out that he was indulging in things far outside of the norms of astartes. Well into uncharted and inappropriate territories.

Marines are not meant to, deviate, from the path set for them. Uriel treads that line quite closely and an angel of the Emperor.

But now that he’s on it, that path keeps pulling him farther down it. The feeling of your soft body in his grip, weak and exposed. A part of him wants to protect it, another part wants to smell blood. His brain was rewired long ago, and so what would’ve been normal, natural feelings ride along paths twisting and curling around each other on a broken ride.

You move around to his front, seeing the mess of stubble that decorates his chin. You wipe the sides of the blade on your thigh and look back at him.

"Do you want me to do the rest?"

You ask, referring to his stubble. He thinks for a moment, before giving a hum in response. You take a step closer, and cautiously move inward to shave away his stubble.

His hands grip your waist, firm and too tight to be comfortable. He doesn't know how to be gentler than that, so you don't complain. There’s no point in doing so.

the blade smoothly slides over the skin of his neck, taking away the stubble that had been growing. You can hear the scraping of each hair getting cut away. His hands shift and flex while you do so, and his eyes are trained on you intently.

You know that despite how close you are with him, he will never trust you. His brain is hardwired away from it and formed into a specially bred creation built for the hardest environments this universe can offer.

Not that a slit to the throat would kill him anyways. He's told you many of times of men who have come back from worse; One who had a good portion of his neck and jaw blown away, but now only has a scar to prove that it even happened.

You finish quickly- So he pulls out of that defensive, sharp eyed mode where he's hyper aware of everything you're doing.

Granted, he always is.

"Done. Ultramarine standard."

Uriel runs a hand over his hair, it almost completely dry.

"You're quick with that." He's referring to the blade in your hands, that you put away.

"I've done this to a lot of astartes since I came aboard the ship."

He gives an irritated grunt, like he's annoyed at your confession; Possession is a common trait for Astartes. He has trouble remembering you are your own person, and not his toy.

His hands still hold your waist tight, enough that breathing is just a bit more difficult.

“Do you need anything else?” He furrows his brow a moment, and you watch him.

“No. But, stay here.” His voice softens.

“It has been many weeks and I, i have missed your voice.���

[youremyheaven]

I had some perspective altering sex with this Bharani Sun & Mercury man. He's been obsessed with me for over a year (idk what it is but men who want me, pursue me for years 😳) and he calls himself my "admirer" and he's just madly blindly completely taken by me, I'd never casually say that about anyone but for a year and a half, this guy has been there for me in a way nobody ever has 😭😭and he's never even met me. He came to my city today morning from ANOTHER STATE just to see me 😭😭😭😭and we had a great time just hanging out and stuff but then we went back to his hotel room and he was just being casual and just talking to me and stuff but then the vibe changed and I started to kiss him 😳and then he stopped me and hugged me and said "I don't deserve to have sex with a woman like you. Please never forget your worth. You're so precious, very very few people deserve to see you naked" 😭😭😭😭😭 I felt so ???? like he's 34 and he's very protective of me in a big brotherly way and he's just always seen me in such a positive light??? and i felt kinda embarrassed 🤡and he literally just lay there hugging me and told me how I'll go very far in life and how I have a bright future ahead of me and how he feels blessed to even get to hold me like this 😭😭😭 but then the vibe changed and he went down on me, and kissed every square inch of my skin and ate my 🍑and idk if this is a Bharani guy thing but both arm guy and this guy (who I'll call bald guy because he's a skinhead) just stare at me lying down or lying on top of me and don't do anything 😭😭😭 Venusian men are kinda awkward at making love I feel like??? Both of them treat me like I'm too precious to be fucked which I really like kinda tbh but sometimes you just want someone to fck you like a ragdoll if ykwim 😭😭😭😭 and both of them say the same exact thing "I just want to take it all in" like ok king but I want to take it all in too 😭😭INSIDE ME THO 😭😭 and I'm literally begging him to fck me and he says he can't 🤡🤡🤡 and I was like huh 😳 and he said he cannot bring himself to fuck me 😭😭 I WOULD'VE SCREAMED, like I'm horny out of my mind 😭and idk if y'all know what it's like to be edged BUT THAT SHIT IS PAINFUL 😖😫 and I gave up and we're just cuddling and talking about stuff and he says "I love you, if you ever need anything I'm here for you, I've loved you for a year and a half now and I've always dreamt of saying it to you and now I get to, so here, I love you" 😭😭😭😳🤡 and so many of his habits in bed reminded me of arm guy ngl 😭🤡 down to some of the things they said to me and the moment they said it etc 🤡🤡🤡 it's the Bharani effect I think 😳😳😳and by that point I lost all hope but then he started touching me again and finally he lost all self control and he was like fck it and FINALLY put it in 😌😌 and when i tell you, i saw stars 😩😩 but he lost his hardness and couldn't finish and said he wasn't feeling confident and I told him it's okay because I didn't even care about cumming at that point, I just wanted to be pounded into 😭😭😭 and then we finally left 😭he dropped me home in a rickshaw (he didn't have to come but he still did 🥺) and he spent hella money today just paying for everything 🫶 and in the rickshaw he told me "if anybody asks you who I am, tell them I'm your sugar daddy" 😭😭🤡 he was just joking obviously but it kinda felt like it 😳😤😳

But it was so emotional and so healing in some ways and just the way he handled my body like I was made of crystal or something 😭 really 🤌🤌rewired my brain I feel like 😭😭😭

[askinkiskarma]

Cruel Summer | Chapter IV: 'Tis The Damn Season

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 8.2k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, Neteyam x reader being the absolute cutest, some fluff, all the feels, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: Neteyam in unable to stop himself from confessing a truth he's tried to bury for years, a truth that will change everything between you. Jake shares news with his son that will threaten whatever peace Neteyam's come to know.

A/N: there's no earthly reason why this chapter had to take so long except my own inability to write it and procrastinating with requests instead. i hope this was worth the wait, and as this is the second to last chapter, prepare yourself for the main meal soon. I don't think that will take that long, cause I've had the last chapter in my mind before I even started writing this story to begin with. I hope you enjoy, i'd love to hear your thoughts, i love to hear from you besties.

: ̗̀➛ listen to the Cruel Summer playlist here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

 

I'm stayin' at my parents' house

And the road not taken looks real good now

And it always leads to you in my hometown

Neteyam’s head was spinning with worry and mind-numbing fear, watching his sister’s spirit be taken out of her, her bioluminescent freckles that usually shine brighter than any other Na’vi he’s ever seen so dim they were barely alight anymore. He was picking at his nails nervously, a habit he hasn’t had since he was 7, watching as his mother was trying her best to shake her awake, almost like she was trying to will life back into her. The wails got to Neteyam more than he cared to admit, and eventually, he excused himself and left the family marui, settling instead for watching the tiny glowing fish as they surrounded and circled his ankles. Neteyam rarely felt powerless in his life. No matter what the situation was, no matter how dire, he always felt like he could somehow make it his own, he could somehow make it work. But now, as he stood there, listening to cries and tries, listening to his family trying to figure out how to save his baby sister, Neteyam felt hopeless and helpless, like a child. In moments like this, he missed you most. It was hard being without you always, his body having to unlearn and relearn instincts and feelings, having to rewire his brain from having been so accustomed to you and your body, and your mind and your soul for the past 19 years of his life. You would know what to do. You’d have some medical trick or a human way, you’d scream everyone out of the room and you’d just somehow figure it out. You always were able to just… figure things out. He missed that, along with everything else. 

“I’m going to contact Norm and Max, ok, baby? It’s going to be alright, they’ll know what to do. It’ll be alright.” 

Neteyam was terrified as the hours passed, waiting for the flying machine he knew would be coming any minute, and what would it bring along with it. His questions, his biggest dream and biggest nightmare, all plaguing him and his mind for the past few hours, were swiftly answered as from the helicopter came three figures, one blue one and two humans. One human in particular he cared about. His heart was beating so loudly it was almost completely covering the incessant, deafening sound the propellor blades were making. You were so beautiful, even more beautiful than he remembered. He couldn’t help the way his eyes trailed over your body and focused on scars that have appeared in the time you were apart, scars that made his stomach drop, or the way your hair was shorter, or the way you have gotten leaner and more muscular. He couldn’t help his mind wandering and twisting every change, a deep feeling of sorrow and weird jealousy, for the people that got to watch you grow, for the people that had to touch your body to heal your wounds, for the people the got to help you when he didn’t - when he couldn’t. 

Your eyes immediately found his, the way they always had the power to, and his breath hitched in his throat, the way it always seemed to when you did. He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened imperceptibly as you noticed him, nor the way they hardened as his presence took his toll on your mind. The frown and the hurt, the slight glistening of tears threatening to spill reminded Neteyam of the last time he saw you, the time that could have gone better, should have gone better than it did, and how he never got the chance to say goodbye. So many words he wanted to say, so many confessions that have rested in his chest for years that needed to be let out but weren’t, now close to spilling out as a blurt of messed-up feelings. So close, yet so far. Because this wasn’t the time - it never seemed to be when it came to you and him. You stood in the back and watched as Norm and Max greeted his father, and you all made your way back to the tent, the attention fully back on his sister who was still unconscious. The sight of her tugged at his heart so much it was making him sick, so he refused to walk in and see what they were doing, what human devices and contraptions it took to bring Kiri back to them. 

There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me

But if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me

His skin felt like it caught fire as it perceived your body in its vicinity, as you walked out of the marui and settled on the weaved pathway by the edge of the water, feet dangling off it. It felt so strange, having you back in his space. Like so much and yet nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t left you, and his life behind, his happiness and hope, like you didn’t kick him out and refused to send him off and at least pretend to make it easier on both of you. Like he never had to keep pretending his life wasn’t permeated fully by your very essence, your very being, by everything you were. 

“Vol…” 

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Neteyam felt anger bubble up inside him. This whole thing was so fucking unfair. You were so fucking unfair. He didn’t choose any of this. He didn’t want to leave you, why can’t you see that? Why could you not at least try to understand, try to be a little sympathetic towards the fact that this was killing him, and he suffered everyday, and the cold he felt from you cut worse than any blade, hurt worse than any wound. 

“God fucking damn it, Vol. Can you stop with the attitude and just please talk to me? I don’t see you in months, you show up here, clearly, you wanted to see us… see me. I’m here, so just talk to me. If you have to scream, or shout, or kick me, you can do that as long as you fucking talk.”

“I’m not here for you. I’m here for Kiri.” 

“Oh, stop it. Norm and Max could take care of Kiri well enough, and you know that. You’re not just here for Kiri. You’re here for me, too. I want to talk, we have to talk.” 

“No, Neteyam. We don’t have to talk. There’s nothing to talk about because nothing fucking matters anymore. None of it. We’re just strangers now, right? Acquaintances. I’ll see you every few months whenever Jake needs something and that’s about the extent of our relationship. Nineteen years of being there for you, of being your best friend, and in a day, you somehow became a stranger. You gave away the right to talk to me the second you walked out that door.”  

Neteyam watched as you took your leave, going back into the tent, leaving him once more to deal with all that stood to plague him.

It took hours, but Kiri’s condition wasn’t improving even with all the contraptions and equipment you were using on her. None of you knew what was wrong, although Norm and Max thought it was epilepsy. It looked like epilepsy, you thought, but if it had been, she would be back by now. It hurt you watching her like that, laying on the floor, the light of her freckles so dim they were barely visible anymore, and you touched her, running your hands over her chest and arm, hoping you could pray the light back into her, so you could tell her you’re sorry that you didn’t say goodbye to her. You would tell her that every time you are in the forest and you find a bead or flower that you’ve never seen before, you collect it with her in mind and keep it there in the hopes you’ll one day see her again, and she could use them for her tops or for the jewellery she always makes for everyone she loves. You missed her, the same way you missed them all, and you needed her to know that, despite all the hurt and the pain they’ve left behind, she would always be your sister. 

Neytiri eyed you curiously while you spent time with her daughter, and you cowered a little under her gaze. You knew it was dumb, but you’ve always loved Neytiri. You watched your whole life as she was the best mother to her children, and how patient and caring and funny and attentive she was, and you always hoped one day she’d learn to love you too, and that through her you could finally feel what it was like to have a mother, a loving mother. But she never did, no matter the time that passed or the efforts you made, so you stopped trying and forsook your futile aspirations. It was time to grow up, and you did - not fully whole, never quite the person you hoped you would become, but there was no point in dwelling on matters of the past, of realities you’d never be able to undo. 

“Will she live?” Your eyes snapped to her in shock as she spoke. She very rarely ever spoke to you directly. And not only did she do just that, but she asked you a question. A genuine question about the well-being of her daughter. You couldn’t believe she cared what you thought about it to ask. She sounded so sad and desolate, her voice hoarse and nasal from the amount she had cried. 

“I’m sure she will… she’s a tough girl. She’s special, she always has been. I think she’ll be just fine.” 

“Then why isn’t she awake yet? If it’s what they say it is… why?” Her voice broke at the last word and yours was not far off when you answered her. 

“I don’t know. But I don’t think they are right. I think it’s more complicated than that.”

She looked confused at you, then approached and sat down in front of her, across from you, as her hands also found Kiri’s body, pushing the bangs out of her face. 

“Her seizure happened at the Tree of Souls. At the bridge between this world and Eywa’s. I think nothing we, humans, or our technology could possibly do could bring her back. I think she needs the Tsa’hik.” 

Her eyes widened at your words and she immediately got up and sprinted out of the tent, and you hoped you were right, partly because of Kiri and partly cause maybe this way, not that it mattered anymore, but maybe she’d finally stop looking at you like a stray dog and more like an actual person.  

The next thing you knew, Neytiri came in with an array of people, the most imposing of which was a woman, who you assumed was the Metkayina Tsa’hik, who intimidated you beyond belief from the second she walked in, all tall and beautiful and imposing… and pregnant. You instinctively rose from your spot and got out, feeling a sudden chill in the room and knowing for a fact it wasn’t a place you were welcomed in anymore. You didn’t care, as long as it meant Kiri would be fine. You joined the rest of the family and the scientists outside, the silence thick as all of you watched with heavy hearts, hoping for a miracle. It took a while, but eventually, the silence was disrupted by gasps of relief as Kiri did indeed wake up, immediately tackled by several of her family members hugging her, consoling her as she cried. 

So we could call it even

You could call me babe for the weekend

'Tis the damn season, write this down

Early in the evening, when everything settled down, you made your way outside the marui once more, looking at the sky as it was preparing itself for eclipse, finally able to take in the beauty of this place, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before and more breathtaking than you could have ever imagined. You felt Neteyam’s presence flood your own as he approached you - your senses might never be as acute as theirs, neither your vision, or hearing, or touch able to hold a candle to their own, but none of that ever mattered when it came to him. His being was enough to turn you inside out, and sharpen your senses so that it would pick up everything about him, from his slightly musky and woody smell, that changed throughout the month as his heat approached, to the sound and cadence of his footsteps that were unmistakable to you no matter how far they were approaching you from, to the slight clink of the beads in his hair, that sometimes felt like it moved on its own accord, to even his breathing and its pattern, and the way it seemed to increase whenever he was close to you. 

“Now can we talk? Kiri’s fine, she’s finally fine. Please, Vol…” 

“Neteyam, I can’t make myself any clearer. I have nothing to say to you.” 

Neteyam felt anger overtake him again. What would he have to do to get you to listen, to get you to give him one second, just one second to explain to you, to talk to you? It was so fucking unfair, to have to lose so much and yet be painted as the villain by you, the person who’s supposed to know him better than anyone else in the world, who used to understand him, to whom he never had to explain any of his thought process because there was no need. You always just knew. He hoped he didn’t have to do this, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and with that rationale in mind, Neteyam approached you suddenly and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and making his way out of the village. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! Put me down!” Neteyam pondered her question for a second. Maybe he truly was out of his mind. None of this was like him at all, this is not something he would ever have done a while ago, never before you. Neteyam was selfless, that’s how he was brought up to be, that’s the only way he knew how to be. But for the first time in his life, he needed to be selfish. For the first time in his life, he would do what he wanted to do, and he wanted to talk to you. Alone. He wanted to feel you, he wanted to remember what it was like for his heart to jump out of his chest and for his nostrils to be flooded with the only scent that drove his senses haywire and for his mind to scramble trying to understand the myriad of emotions running through it while he looked at you. He hasn’t seen you in months, haven’t felt you in months, and he was supposed to let it go without a fight?

No fucking way. 

You were so light in his arms, it felt like he was carrying a doll, and he barely registered your tiny ineffectual fists punching at his back, although he did feel like your legs were definitely stronger, just like the rest of you was since he last saw you. He didn’t stop until he hit an isolate meadow in the mangrove forest, your annoyed huffs and croaky screams drowning out the beautiful melodies played by the birds and his family’s ikran, that now had a home in these trees.

“I have no problem with holding you like this the whole time, but I’d rather look at you while I speak. I will put you down, but I swear on everything I hold dear, Vol, if you run, I will drag you back by your feet if I have to. We are talking, whether you like it or not.” 

With that threat, he lifted you off his shoulder and put you gently on the ground. You stood where he placed you, but refused to look at him, a deep frown marring your beautiful face. He sighed, feeling defeated and unmoored, but kneeled in front of you so he can look at your face properly, and you could look at his. 

“Vol, we haven’t seen each other in months. I didn’t know whether I’d ever see you again, but you’re here. You came here, out of your own volition. I know you wanted to see me. I know you, Vol. And you know me. You’re the only one that knows me.” He takes a hold of your mask gently and angles your face with barely any force to make you face him. “I was so mad at you for the way you shut me out. For not allowing me to say goodbye the way I wanted to, the way I should have. I needed to hold you, and tell you that I’ll miss you and that you’ll always be my best friend. That I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Your eyes could barely hold it in, the urge to let it out and cry. Cry at seeing him again, at how frustrating he was, how angry you were, but how happy at the same time to finally see him again, to feel his touch on your skin and the way it lit it on fire, the way desire and ache and love pulsed through your veins at his mere proximity, how, despite all the months, all the time, all the hurt, it felt like nothing had changed between you, like seeing him again was exactly like coming back home after a long day outside, exhausted and spent, and happy to be comfortable and safe again. 

“I don’t care. I don’t care how sorry any of you are. You left your clan behind, and me, all of us behind, to go hide while we stand and fight and worry for our lives and the lives of everyone in the clan.”

Your words struck a chord in Neteyam and he felt the anger prick painfully at his mind, and despite priding himself on his composure, he couldn’t hold it in any longer, not anymore. Months of anguish kept inside finally came out and there was little he could do to stop it.

“We left so we could protect you! Why must you be so stubborn all of the fucking time? This wasn’t done to hurt you, Vol. This has nothing to do with you! None of us wanted to go! Believe it or not, you’re not the only one affected by this. I understand that you are upset and you have every reason to be, but what was the alternative? Either we stayed and the whole clan was even more at risk than it already is, or we brought two humans with us across the oceans to a new clan that hates humans?! Stop being so fucking selfish for one second and understand this isn’t only about you! I fucking lost everything that day! I lost my home, and my friends, and my future as Olo’eyktan, fuck, I lost the woman I lo-“ 

Your eyes go wide in shock at the words almost spoken, words that you imagined all your life but couldn’t believe right now. That can’t be what he was telling you, right? After all this time apart, after all the time together, in which you shared anything and everything under the sun, in secrets kept and broken promises, it couldn’t be that Neteyam was confessing to you something you swore you’d never feel for each other, something you wanted nothing more than to hear, something that would somehow both kill you and put you back together at the same time. 

“What did you just say?” 

Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

Now I'm missing your smile, hear me out

We could just ride around

And the road not taken looks real good now

And it always leads to you in my hometown

His own wide eyes settle after a while, deep, settling breaths calming his heartbeat that he could feel in his throat, in his ears, in his temples. This was it. After all this time, after everything you’ve gone through, ironically now when there was no chance for you, not that there ever was, now when he was mad at you, when he would lose you again in just a short while, now he was about to confess something that has plagued him for years, that he’s wanted to tell you, that he knew he never could. 

He slowly brought his hand to your neck and collarbone, eyes tearing up mirroring your own, and he knew it would be easy telling you this, because loving you was easy, and falling in love with you - the easiest thing he’s ever done. His thumb caressed your soft skin and he watched in wonder as your mouth opened slightly, a soft exhale escaping you, and he followed the tear that rolled down your cheek when you closed your eyes from the overwhelming feelings trying you. 

“I lost the woman I love. The only woman I’ve ever loved. The annoying, aggravating, impossible woman who I’ve watched become the most beautiful, intelligent, incredible person, who taught me everything I know about anything that matters. Who I promised I wouldn’t fall in love with, but I did. A long time ago.”

You shook your head slightly, feeling the tears fall down your face, the stitches that you managed to put in the wounds deep in your soul coming loose around him, bleeding once more, and you wondered if despite wishing to hear these words for years, now that you have, it was the last thing you were ever going to hear. Because how are you supposed to survive this now, this overbearing pain of loving him, and losing him, knowing all this time he loved you, too, and that this was so far past what you agreed on… that it was love, requited love, crazy, stupid, incredible, one-of-a-kind love?

“You can’t say shit like this to me, Neteyam. You think I’m selfish? How about you? Why would you say these things to me now? I’m about to leave, I’m about to lose you again. It took me months to put back together what you broke, and I’m still not there yet, and now you say this shit, and what am I supposed to do with it, huh? How am I supposed to move on? To accept that I love a man that’ll never be mine, that I’ll never have except in fleeting moments, in secret affairs, that I’ve had to watch turn his back to me and choose duty over me, over and over and over again. You’re being mean. You’re being selfish.” 

“You fucking taught me to be selfish. You told me over and over my whole life to be more selfish. Well here I am, I’m being selfish. I want something, and that something is you. I want you. I need you. I need you to know that I’m in love with you, and to know that at least once in my life I get to make love to the woman i love and know that she loves me too, and that this is real, and that I’ve known this feeling and lived this feeling, at least once. Please. Please just tell me it wasn’t in my head. That all these years, despite what we told each other and ourselves, I loved you and you loved me too. And it was real, the only real thing I’ve ever known.” 

He sounded so forlorn, so desperate for you to ease his pain and mend his heart that was just as broken as yours, that suffered through as much, if not more, that was laid bared on the table for you to see it, to feel it, to either take it gently in your palms or squish it under your feet. No matter how mad you were, it was hard not to be taken aback and awed at his confession, not to feel privileged to be loved by him, by the best man you’ve ever met, a man who could have anyone in this world easily, whose mere presence in a room commands respect and attention, whose mind and words inspired Omaticaya songs, whose body motivated young men and enamoured young women. He was the best there was, and he wanted you. A human, who had none of the qualities praised and admired in the clan and in his world, but all the ones he wanted and hoped for. Because you were his best friend. And you understood him, and you stood by him through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, your whole entire lives. And you loved him, despite his shortcomings, despite being different to you, and you smiled at him in the way that put the sun to shame, and your eyes lit up when looking at him in a way that put the stars out of work. And you found him funny, which few people did - Lo’ak was the funny one, not him, that’s what he has always been told, but not to you, and if he was honest with himself, he only made jokes to hear your laugh and to feel the way you punched him whenever you found something funny. You have loved him all your life, you’ve been in love with him for years, and despite all that stood against you, all that you knew would prevent your own happy ending, despite your mind telling you it’s easier to just walk away, it’s safer for you to just leave and protect your heart, your heart needed to feel his, and feel him. Your heart needed to know what it would be, to be with him knowing what you knew now, knowing for a fact this is real, and it’s everything. 

You circled his wrist with your fingers and your other hand found his hair, that you pushed away from his face. You couldn’t help your smile that felt like the first real one you’ve cracked in months, and the way your heart skipped every other beat taking in his beauty, marvelling at his eyes that were pools of love and lust, of sadness and hope, of anguish and fear. 

“Of course it was real, skxawng.” You said with soft sobs. “It’s all real. It’s always been real. My whole life, you’ve been the only thing that’s been real.” You took off your mask, and closed the distance between you and kissed him, and you both melt into it, feeling the months apart fade away, feeling your mind empty of everything outside of him and his taste and his scent, and the feel of his skin as your palms traced his face and neck, of the way your own skin tingles under his touch. As you put your mask back on, struggling to catch your breath, he reaches for the buttons of your linen shirt and undoes them with surprising gentleness and accuracy, so tiny in his huge hands, and slides the shirt down your arms until it falls on the floor. You shudder a little under the breeze now caressing your bare skin and at the way Neteyam’s thumb flickers over one of your nipples, still covered by a black lace bra. 

“You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I can’t believe I get to love you, I can’t believe you’re mine. And I’m yours, Vol. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours. I’ll always be yours.” 

You said nothing as the seed of doubt didn’t allow you to hope or even consider the future, instead getting lost in the pleasure of his skilled hands on your body, that still knew everything about you, as he laid you down on the ground gently and hovered over you, as his lips drew maps of unknown marvels on your soft skin, so different to his, but still so familiar, and he felt for the first time since his ikran landed on that beach months ago that this place could finally feel like home. He hated how despite memorising every curve, and beauty mark, and scar on your body, there were things that he had to relearn, curves he had to discover as his mouth came to terms with the changes he wasn’t there to witness, wasn’t there to get accustomed to as they happened to you. He pushed the unpleasant thought aside. It just meant he needed to relearn it, and he was happy with that. He was happy to hope he would get to once again know everything about you, and never get the chance to miss you again. 

Despite your silence, the tears still came and went, fogging up your mask listening to him and thinking about how much you’ve wanted this, and how much it will all hurt when it will inevitably succumb into nothing again. He stopped and came back to your level as he heard your quiet sniffles, ears perking up at the sound. 

“Vol…” 

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Neteyam. When you left, it killed me. It took me months to get back together enough to be normal again, if we do this, after everything you’ve said, after what i know, if i lose you, I…”

 

For the first time in his life and in your life, it was Neteyam who removed your mask covering your face and kissed you, and you swore you could have died then and been happy about it, and thank your lucky star you got to go while feeling his lips on yours, but soon enough he covered your face again and caressed your hair gently. 

“We have to do this because of what I said. Because of what you said. Because you are the only woman I’ll ever love, because for all intents and purposes, you are my mate. I want you to be my mate. Because all I’ve dreamt about for years is doing this with you knowing that you loved me too.” His expression changed, and in a serious tone, he continued. “But we won’t do anything you don’t want to, Vol. If you don’t want to do this, just tell me.”

Damn him, you thought bitterly. Damn him for having the ability of making you completely forget and forsake reason or any critical thinking when it came to him, when it came to what he meant to you. Of course you wanted to do this. You wanted nothing more than to do this. And despite how much your mind was screaming in pain at the eventuality of his loss, another part of it was screaming at the possibility of never feeling this feeling, at least once. All you managed was a meek shake of your head, and he smiled, a stupidly handsome smile and you couldn’t help yours from blossoming on your face as well, or the sense of fleeting happiness that enveloped you like a warm blanket. 

Despite whatever feelings of love you now knew were harboured in your convoluted relationship, you and Neteyam very rarely acted like it when you had sex. Your love was mostly tangible in the way you healed him, in the way he listened to your endless chattering about human stuff, in the way he looked at you when you said something that he found particularly endearing or the way you looked for him first whenever something anything of note happened to you. Sex, on the other hand, was a means to an end to you most times, just a way to relief tension and stress, a way to give your body what it needed, what it wanted, with someone who knew how to get it there. It was rough, and teasing, it was pushing your bodies to the extremes and testing your own and each other’s boundaries, but there was no need for that now. Because right now, in the way he touched you, in the way you felt, you knew this was different. You knew it was going to change everything yet again, more so than a mere confession ever could. Because now, knowing what you knew, feeling what you felt, you were making love, and it was an intimacy you’ve never experienced before. 

Back then, no matter how thoroughly he got you ready, no matter how long the foreplay, there was always a sense of urgency. It lasted all night, and there was still urgency to it. There was none of that now, as he explored every ounce of your body in languid, deliberate movements in between sonorous whispers that sounded a lot like adoration and wonderment, that told you how much he loved you, how much he’s missed you, how you were everything to him and listening to it felt a lot like heaven, a lot like comfort, a lot like home. 

He caressed your thighs from your ankles to the hips, and gently removed your shorts and placed them on the ground, next to your shirt. He inhaled sharply taking in your body and how much he missed it, and how much despite all the little changes, you were still very much yourself, and your body was still the one he used to get drunk on every night, that he got to once more tonight. You helped him out by removing your bra and underwear, and you smiled at the way his pupils dilated watching you, his eyes almost black now. You pulled him by his loincloth until he was over you again, and he took no time in attaching himself to you, and his lips to your neck, and his hands to your waist. Your heart was beating loudly as you felt him and he smiled against your chest when his lips felt your quickening pulse, knowing that his was just the same, that this was so much more than it ever was before. He never quite understood while people put so much emphasis on sex, why it was regarded as such an intimate act, especially to humans, but he understood now, as he felt you, as he knew you were in love with each other, that there was no doubt in either of your minds, that this feeling, and what you were doing, was something he could only conceive of doing with you, that this was going to bind you for life, regardless of the bond, regardless of a mating ritual, regardless of anything else. You were his and he was yours, forever. 

You reached over and untied his tewng and threw it with the rest of your clothes and just as it happened every time, you were always taken aback by his length, that somehow was always bigger than you remembered, and in light of the months spent apart, you were genuinely wondering about the logistics of how it was ever going to fit. 

“I know, I’m a little concerned, too.” 

You laughed, relieved that it was a thought shared between you, and doing your best to compose yourself and take a deep breath in, you removed your mask once more with one hand and pulled him towards you with the other, your lips meeting in a wet, messy kiss, filled with euphoric smiles and breathless moans, and for the first time in your life, you felt happy. Even it was just for a little while, just for a short, fleeting moment in time, you were wholly happy, and you had everything you ever wanted. A maskless kiss in the beautiful nature that surrounded you, shared with the man you loved, that you now knew loved you too, and the quiet hope of tomorrow. You didn’t want it to end, even as you felt the world slowly disappear from view, even as he reluctantly put some distance between you and helped you fasten it back onto your face. 

“I never missed your room more than right this second.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

As he slowly entered you, you were reminded of your first time, nearly two years ago now, and how sweet he had been, and how thoughtful and kind, and how he was the same now. He took his time, comforting you at every point, and held you as you cried from the pain of being stretched out after so long, by a length and girth no human normally was supposed to know, and he talked you through it, and you cracked a few jokes in between soft sobs and muffled cries, and you understood then what it felt like to be whole, and mended by a touch or a gaze, as long as they came from the one person in the world that mattered. 

When the pain subsided, it was replaced by ecstasy and the best feeling you’ve ever felt, as the pleasure he was always able to coax out of you was magnified infinitely by his confession, and you knew he felt the same by the way he looked at you, by how isolated tears fell from his eyes and onto your mask, how his smile was radiant and reassured, how he held you and touched you like he’d never let you go again, and God, you hoped he never did. When you came, you came together, and the overwhelming feelings left you a panting, limp mess around him, your mind empty from the high and full from the simple “I love you” that followed.

“I have missed you so much, Vol.” suddenly, he picks you up by your waist and turns you so that you are placed gently on his chest, and you sprawl on his body, with him still deep in you, tightening your arms around him and your head on his chest. You lay there for a long while, while he places kisses on your head and runs his fingers down your back and thighs, taking you in, and you listen to his heartbeat, fast and erratic, so much like your own, so much like the soundtrack to your dreams, the music of your deepest fantasies. 

It took forever for either of you to move at all, just content being in each other’s presence, making up for months of lost love and lost nights. Eventually, you removed your head from where it has found its once-more home, and looked at him. 

“I missed you, too. I can’t believe I’m here. There’s so much I want to tell you.”

And so you did. You spent hours talking, catching up, talking about anything and everything, like you always used to when you were young. You told him about training and how Tarsem is doing a good job as Olo'eyktan, how he wants both you and Spider to be a more involved part of the plan, how he’s got you training and how you feel excited to be more involved in this part of his life that you never quite got to be involved in before. You tell him about every new scar on your body and he does the same, and he goes over the village and the training, and all the new people he’s met and how he likes Tsireya and Rot’xo but not Aonung, he tells you about all the ways Lo’ak is testing their dad’s patience and all the dreams he’s had of you. That takes a while, and you laugh at the sillier ones and cry at the more emotional ones, and cry at the way he was right that you had been selfish, and how much in your attempt to deal with your own heartbreak, you forgot that he was going through his own. You never separated from each other, still hugging, or cuddling, or pressing at least one leg against the other’s, refusing to be more than a couple centimetres apart at a time, if you could help it.

Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake

I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay

So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends

Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it

And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'

You didn’t talk about the future. About how you knew you would have to leave soon, and what would happen after, you didn’t talk about the hurt or the pain, or the way it would come crashing down in front of you so soon, because right now, it didn’t matter. Because you knew for the first time in your life that all the pain the world could possibly throw at you would be worth this, and if you had to spend your whole life paying for it, you’ve made your peace with that. At least, you got this. And no matter what you lost, you’d always have this. 

In the morning, he took your hand in his and lifted you, and watched as you put your bra and panties back on. He didn’t say anything as you bent for the rest of your clothes, clearly enjoying the view, but stopped you as you were trying to get dressed. 

“Let’s go for a swim. You have a mask, you can breathe underwater better than me.” He chuckled a little. “I want to show you my new life, I need you to be part of it.” 

You were touched by his words. You nodded and dropped the shirt, and removed your hand from his swiftly. Without warning, you started running towards the beach, not looking behind you as you screamed after him. 

“Last one in the water has to do whatever the other one wants.” 

Neteyam rolled his eyes, but watched as you ran away from him, as you always did, wild and free, and he was relieved to realise some things would never change, and this was definitely one, alongside the eternal love he felt for you. He gave you quite the headstart, but eventually started running, and it took very little on his part to catch up to you, and he listened to your screams of annoyance as his feet touched the water first and he dove in, submerging his body and grabbing your waist and pulling you under with him. He allowed you to take the unearthly beauty in, with a shocked expression on your face, your mouth agape as you noticed the coral and all the fish that were circling you curiously. You reached out for them and they immediately dispersed, and he smiled at how it made you jump slightly, his heart swelling with affection and jubilance at this moment that he never thought he’d get, that he would never forget, that he would cherish forever. 

You swam for hours, and for the first time in either of your lives, Neteyam felt grateful for your mask, that allowed you to breathe underwater for extended periods of time, much longer than he could, that allowed you to go with him on an ilu and experience this new feeling that felt so different than an ikran, and yet somehow just as liberating and freeing, and you loved it, and all of a sudden he loved it a little more than he did before. 

"So what do you want?" you say playfully as you resurface, your head in his neck, his body flush against yours as you float aimlessly. He just tilts his head, not understanding your question.

"You beat me in the water. I said that whoever wins gets to tell the other what to do."

Neteyam thought about it for a long while.

"I have everything I want right now." he held you a bit tighter as he answered. "I still can't believe you're here. I can't believe these last few hours have been real. There's nothing else I could ever want."

You sighed against him, and he couldn't tell if it was happy or not, and right now, he didn't want to know.

"You're a better person than I am. I would have asked for eternal servitude."

He chuckled as his lips found your wet hair again.

"You got it, Vol."

And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own

To leave the warmest bed I've ever known

As you walked back to the village, the dream world you lived in since he brought you to the forest was quickly fading before your eyes, and the worries, and the fear were settling in again, like they always seemed to, and it felt a lot like greeting old friends that never left, just hid a little under a curtain of flowy incandescence, ready to pounce at the slightest opportunity. Neteyam's voice broke through the dark feelings overcoming you, like he always had the power to.

“I know it's scary, thinking of what's next. I know. I'm terrified, but seeing you again, Vol, this night, this morning, it made me realise I can't lose you again. So just stay. I’ll talk to my parents, I’ll talk to the Metkayina. We’ll figure it out. Just please stay.”

His words managed to put your mind as ease almost as much as they shocked you in their spontaneity and craziness. Neteyam wasn't a rash person, or a person who just blurted out big life decisions, such as this one. You laughed awkwardly, trying to defuse the tension you felt in yourself and in the air around you.

“How would that ever work, silly?”

“I don’t know. It will work. Or I’ll come back with you, I’ll come back home. We’ll figure it out, ok? Just please say yes.” 

You roll your eyes at him, but you were grateful. And so, so happy. Because despite everything, this was everything you've ever wanted, and everything you thought you'd never get. You didn't know why you came to Awa'atlu. To yell at him, to check for yourself how he was doing, if he managed to move on easier than you could. To be angry, to get closure, to say goodbye forever. But now, it felt a lot like you were here for a new beginning, for a second chance at love, and how could you ever say no to that? The little nod makes Neteyam beam, and he picks you up and spins you around, once again kissing each-other against the ticking time bomb of your forsaken mask, laughing against his lips and his cheeks as he peppers kisses throughout your whole face, on your eyes, and your cheeks, on your forehead and your nose.

"Thank you."

We could call it even, even though I'm leavin'

And I'll be yours for the weekend, 'tis the damn season

"I'll go check on Kiri. You talk to your parents, ok?"

Neteyam did just that, as he found his dad sitting alone by the edge of the water, cleaning his favourite weapon, the way he liked to do when there was something on his mind, or something weighing heavily on his shoulders. Kiri's condition must have taken a bigger toll on him than Neteyam realised, he thought absentmindedly. He was so nervous, so afraid of what he had to say and how his parents would react. His mating situation has been a matter of great debate in their family for a years now, and so to tell them he's chosen... a human, essentially giving up his chance at feeling the bond, at a child... he knew would be a lot to take in, but he was ready, and he had chosen, and for once in his life, Neteyam would have his way.

"Dad?"

His father was startled as he got pulled out of his musings, another rare occurence.

"Neteyam, it's good you're here. I need to chat to you."

Neteyam took a seat by his dad, eyeing him keenly.

"Is everything alright, you seem off."

"Neteyam..." the former Olo'eyktan winced a little, refusing to meet his son's gaze.

"The situation with the Metkayina is... a little more dire than I told you before. Tonowari told us the clan is not fully willing to accept us, that they don't consider us one of them, even despite the Uturu given by their own Olo'eyktan. He's worried for our future here, and honestly son, so am I. I don't want us to have to leave again, to have to uproot our family once more.

He's... thought of a solution. For it to be an easier transition. A way forward, a way to unite the clans, the power of the Omaticaya, the blood of the Toruk Makto with the ruling family of the reef people. As you know, Tonowari has an older daughter, a warrior. She's said to be one of the most proficient and skilled warriors this tribe's ever seen. They say she's beautiful and smart. Kind and charismatic.

Neteyam... in order for us to stay, you will have to mate with her."

And I’ll be yours for the weekend..

‘tis the damn season.

Taglist: @liluvtojineteyam @pinkpantheris @fanboyluvr @bananafruityawne @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @netemoon @www-interludeshadow-com

[lasirenatarot]

Why haven’t you met « THE one » yet?

Pick a picture:

Pile1:

Cards: 7 of pentacles; 9 of swords; ace of cups; 4 of wands reversed, knight of swords reversed;7 of cups reversed.

- Right off the bat, I feel like you have been waiting for a long time to meet “the one”, or at least that is how you feel like, you may talk yourself out of believing you will meet them. You may feel hopeless at this point to find real love. What you may actually want is more of a platonic/soul level typa connection, but at the same time you want the completely opposite: freedom and relations in which you wouldn’t have to put much of your energy and effort into. The main problem I see here is that you may not exactly know what you actually seek in a serious relationship and have some sort of commitment issues you may even not realize you did.

Extended version. Click.

Pile 2:

Cards: 10 cups; queen of swords; death; ace of pentacles; 2 of swords

- You may be too focused on your job/studies/career, too focused on making money and the logical side of life, instead of your feelings. In fact, you may have a bad habit of numbing your feelings and pretending they don’t exist for long periods of time so you wouldn’t have to deal with them and lose your precious time and focus on whatever it is that you do- work or studies.. You need to realize that everything in life is about balance, that may be your mission before meeting “the one”, you may need to undergo a personal transformation in order to find balance. All cards here talk about balance, this may be key for you. You may need to understand that you would have to put as much time into this relationship as you do with your work for it to flourish and be full of happiness.

Extended version. Click.

Pile 3:

Cards: the devil; 3 of swords; nine of cups; 5 of swords; the chariot

- People who have chosen this pile, there are three options: you may have been cheated on in the past, someone may have cheated on their S.O. with you or you have been used for your body. Whatever it was you may have some trust issues because of it, also a hard time believing someone can actually love you for you. ( an example popped in my head for no reason: beautiful women and rich men have it the hardest when it comes to trusting they are loved, for the same reason. Usually people don’t love them for them but use them for what they got. This may mean sth to someone..). You may definitely have some past trauma when it comes to relationships or haven’t gotten over a heartbreak. You may have felt like an option but never ‘the chosen one’. You need to regain your trust in people and rewire your brain into thinking you deserve the be someone’s only option.

Extended version. Click.

Want to know what you can do to attract the one faster into your life?

Subscribe and check the extended version here: https://ko-fi.com/lasirenatarot

- La Sirena💋

[gravytrainnaturebornn]

the power of self-talk in the fight against self-sabotage (for binge-eaters and ppl who have never been skinny🫶)

disclaimer: this is not proana. this is for people who struggle with binge eating as a form of self-sabotage, emotional comfort, self harm, etc. overeating can cause just as much harm physically and mentally as undereating. please be safe. now, on with the show!

weight loss, but specifically extreme weight loss, equals change. change equals discomfort, so people tend to subconsciously avoid change. this is why starting to see progress on the scale or your body can trigger the urge to self-sabotage that progress and binge eat.

for people who have been big their whole lives, that fear is heightened by the fact that being thin is completely uncharted territory. by following through, youre entering a new world that youve never navigated before. your brain might get scared, say its much too big a mountain to climb, and tell you to give up. its easier to say fuck it because for most people, unhappiness is a comfort zone. if youre used to hating your body and wanting it to change, then actually *changing* it poses a very serious threat to your comfort and the lifestyle youre used to.

questions like: "what if i reach my goal and im still unhappy/unattractive?" "what if i dont look like myself?" "what if i reach my goal, cant sustain it, and then i gain it all back and humiliate myself?" can all make someone feel anxious about succeeding in their weight loss journey. and for people with overeating issues, this is a big trigger for binge episodes.

so how do you combat this instinct to self sabotage? well, im not a psychologist so take this with a grain of salt, but for me it helps to soothe these subconscious fears and train the brain to fight these urges. self-talk and thought-correction play a HUGE role in rewiring the pathways in your brain that lead you to bingeing. truly, practice and consistency are the only things that are going to cause a big change, so stick with it !

correcting problematic thoughts *immediately* when they form is key to preventing problematic behavior in the future, and that starts with being able to identify those thoughts. the moment you catch yourself thinking about food, cut yourself off with a correction. maybe even think about food on purpose a few times to practice recognizing and correcting it.

for example, if you just ate an hour ago, chances are youre not actually hungry yet. tell yourself that as soon as you realize youre thinking about food. i like to tell myself "i dont need to eat, and im not gonna sabotage myself by eating that." by acknowledging it and calling it what it is--literally an attack, by my brain, on my own progress--i immediately attach a sense of accountability to the actions that follow. there's no deniability. its no longer a passive choice. theres no mindless eating or "i wasnt thinking about it." if i eat after acknowledging the act of eating as self-sabotage, then that is me *actively* choosing self-sabotage over self-control. accountability alone can change a lot if you let it.

what i tell myself changes depending on the situation, but i find that repeating some of these phrases throughout the day helps to fight urges in general, and certain ones help for specific cravings and situations.

below are some examples of things i tell myself that have helped me fight the urge to self sabotage. they dont all have to be true when you first say them, the point is training your brain to think a certain way. it may feel unnatural at first, but the more you say them the more natural it becomes, until eventually it becomes apart of the way you actually think and you dont have to work so hard at it. remember: consistency. is. key.

okay ill stop blabbing! here:

•i allow myself to be thin.

•i accept the change that comes with losing weight.

•i am ready to see myself differently and cope with any complicated feelings that may come with it.

•i am prepared for my body to change.

•i will deal with my wardrobe when the time comes, and im not afraid of dressing differently for my new body.

•i will adjust to my new dietary needs and appetite when i reach my goal weight. i will not always be hungry; eating less will be my new normal, and i will be okay.

•i am not afraid of being hungry.

•food does not comfort me, nor does it solve my problems or make me feel better.

•i am ready to navigate a life that looks different to the one im living now.

•i am not afraid of reaching my goal. if i do feel afraid, i am confident in my ability to work through difficult feelings and continue towards my goal.

•im not going to sabotage myself by eating that.

•i accept that people will perceive me differently, and i am ready to navigate that change.

•i am prepared to receive comments about my weight loss.

•i am not afraid of getting what i want.

•i believe i deserve what i want, and im dedicated to working towards getting it.

•i am capable of adapting to new routines and habits.

•fear is not a reason to give up, and i will continue to work even if the possibility of change makes me uneasy.

•i am prepared to face the future, even though i do not know what it looks like.

•i allow myself to make mistakes, and i will not use them as an excuse to quit.

•my long-term satisfaction is more important than what i want in this moment.

•i am in control of my actions and i am capable of resisting the urge to binge.

•i allow myself to have the body i desire.

•i allow myself to change.

•i allow my life to look different and i am not afraid to see a new person in the mirror.

•i am excited to reach my goal, and prepared to navigate any changes that come with it.

•i am ready to meet and introduce others to the new me.

[beanghostprincess]

Usopp keeps the toad he had on Wano and brings it with him to the ship without anyone noticing (because he fears what Nami will say to him, honestly) and Sanji catches him one day with it in his workshop. Usopp tries to make up a excuse, saying the toad just jumped into the ship with them and it has nothing to do with the fact that he has grown very very fond of it, but Sanji knows better. He suddenly goes away and Usopp fears the worst, thinking they're gonna make him get rid of his baby. But then Sanji comes into the workshop again, this time with a little plate in his hand and Usopp can't believe the sight in front of him.

Sanji is visibly uncomfortable but trying to keep up with a smile. "This is the hardest thing I've ever done. For fuck's sake, get this thing away from me or I'll throw up instantly." But he's referring to the plate he's holding, and not Pyonnosuke. Because he's prepared what seems a dish with some insects and stuff they use to catch fishes and other animals. Basically, Sanji got into the storage room and grabbed the insects they use for bait to give them to the toad.

Usopp never thought he'd fall in love more with Sanji, but turns out he still can.

So he just grabs the plate for him and starts feeding Pyonnosuke with a huge grin on his face. He thinks that Sanji will still be disgusted, but he's knelt right beside him watching the toad eat, being the happiest Usopp has ever seen him.

The sniper rests his head on Sanji's shoulder and looks up. "Isn't this... Extremely disgusting for you?"

"The insects?" He shivers at the thought. "Fuck, yes. I fucking hate them. But-" Sanji keeps staring at Pyonnosuke, and, you know, it looks adorable. "I think I like this little guy a lot. Cute thing you've got there, Usopp. How could you hide it from me?"

Usopp looks away, a bit embarrassed at the confession. "I didn't think you'd like him, honestly. You don't seem very fond of... Amphibians?"

Sanji shrugs. "I'm fond of whoever eats my food happily and looks just as adorable as this little thing. Right, cutie?"

And so Usopp has to watch Sanji get along with Pyonnosuke for a long, long while, talking to the toad as if it were their real child. And turns out Usopp isn't even bothered about Pyonnosuke jumping to be on Sanji's hands and loving him, perhaps even a bit more than he loves Usopp. The sight he's witnessing is the most adorable thing on earth.

After a while, Usopp just has to ask. "Are you... Going to tell anyone about this?"

"What?!" Sanji seems so offended that he ends up yelling, Pyonnosuke jumping to rest on his shoulder. "No! I love Nami-san, but she would kick this baby out of here. I'm not letting anybody do this to our little family, mon coeur."

Little family.

Okay, that rewired his brain completely.

Usopp stares at Pyonnosuke falling asleep on Sanji's shoulder. Thing he does only when he feels safe enough to be with somebody. He's just as frightened of the world as Usopp is, no wonder he only feels safe around Sanji. The sniper can't fight the smile he makes when he sees this. "I think he likes you."

"Really?" Sanji pats the toad on his little head. "I love him already."

I love you, Usopp wants to say. But he doesn't. He just approaches Sanji without any warning and steals a soft, short kiss from him. The cook blushes uncontrollably while deep red takes over his cheeks. "What was that one for?"

Usopp shurgs his shoulders. "I think I like you even more than Pyonnosuke does."

Sanji can just laugh at that. "You two are very similar, after all." The cook holds his hand while he caresses the back of his palm. "I like you a lot too."

[allthoselostthoughts]

Lately, I have been obsessed with 'The Uglies' series by Scott Westerfield. It's recently come out with a (not very good apparently) film and I loved it as a kid so my ADHD brain has circled back around to hyperfixation.

TLDR (because this is important); Making the choice to fight for yourself and rewire your brain in the throes of mental illness is hard, but every time you decide you're worth the effort you are shaping your brain for the future. Every choice to bleed in the fight for your wellness and future matters. You matter. And eventually, it's worth it. (As relayed by/ related to 'The Uglies' series)

I've been listening to lots of reviews on "The Uglies' series and I can't help but feel that they miss the point. Or what I thought was the point as a kid and even a teen at least. Something especially relevant if you subscribe to the 'Death of the Author' theory for literary interpretation. I subscribe more to the idea of 'The Author is a ghost guiding my thoughts with whispered fingers, gentle like the kiss of butterfly wings rather than bludgeoning like a Louisville slugger'.

Aka: The author's intentions matter and can help guide our interpretation but cannot fully change our perceptions as our lens is so intrinsically connected to and shaped by our own personal experiences.

In 'The Pretties' Tally (the main character) takes a 'cure' for what we now know are brain lesions, secretly put on the brain of every child at 16 when they undergo plastic surgery to become 'pretty'. The lesions are a kind of lobotomy, keeping everyone pliant, minimally questioning, and breaking their ability to quickly reason and critically think. Thus their society is a bunch of pliant happy pretty people with no real freedoms due to this 'brain damage'. However, we later learn that in actuality Tally did not take the cure and has instead been having to work around these lesions and 'rewire' her brain on her own.

People seem to find this kind of silly, like the theme is the idea that brain damage can be fixed if you're just special enough with all that main character energy. Perhaps it's because we're currently in the 'Neuro' part of medical school but I find this take to be completely missing the point. I've always been of this opinion but now that I understand the brain better, I can actually articulate why I believe this using actual science. The point being that your mental pathways MATTER. Your brain must use previous experiences to predict the correct responses to new ones because otherwise moving your arm to take a drink from someone's hands would take so long they'd have already dropped it before you got there.

In that way, each time your brain is right or wrong it uses that info to recalibrate your predictions for next time. Similarly, the paths that are taken most often in your brain will be the most myelinated aka they'll be the fastest most 'well-traveled' roads. Creating new ways of thinking requires shaping and changing your knee-jerk predictions and choosing new pathways to myelinate rather than taking those that are well-worn. Just like how driving to your new job takes tons of mental energy for the first few weeks but in a few years, it takes so little that you find yourself at work without even remembering how you got there.

THAT is what I get as a takeaway. Tally didn't get a pill to fix her brain, it would have been nice if she had, but she was able to rewire it herself with tons of effort and energy. And it was HARD. We see later, when they eventually create medication to help with this 'rewiring' how much harder Tally had it having to do it alone. It's not saying that you can fix literal brain damage or that medication isn't great, it is, but your thoughts MATTER. Every thought and action is a CHOICE that will shape your brain over time. I'm not saying mental health is easy, it's not, and a lot of us start off making these choices at a disadvantage compared to those who are 'neurotypical' but we still make choices.

Mental health is hard, overcoming mental illness is constant work and energy and effort. It's draining and maybe you don't choose to fight every day or win every battle, but you can win the war. And a not insignificant part of winning that war is choosing to do things to restructure your brain, even if that choice is taking the medications that fuel the neurotransmitters that spark those pathways or making that therapy appointment or deciding to tell yourself that it's okay to be exhausted rather than feeling guilt pricking at your skin when you can't muster up the energy to get out of bed and wipe the tears from your cheeks.

The point is that healing your brain is work. and it's not easy, but it matters. Every time you make the choice to fight for yourself, it matters. Eventually, it gets easier. And eventually, it's worth it.

[ghostcasket]

i think your hallmark story rewired my brain like. i heard you were making part 2 and i freaked out (/pos!!)

i also kinda wanna know what the gurls are up to etc etc i think they can get redemption arcs and kiss

hi anon here again. (the one who asked abt how the girls are now)

i feel like i didnt phrase my interest (?) properly i want anika and chloes realizations to be absolutely CRUSHING i want it to pull them out of their "im the most selfless person on earth and what i did was completely justified and ok" bubbles so HARSHLY they cant go back to functioning like human beings ever again

i need them to drown in the guilt and their new "good guy" boyfriends to not know what to do bc they kinda suck

i love misery its so interesting and fascinating to me also sorry for using your askbox to ramble lol hope you liked my random words if you actually read it

—

bestie your mind is so huge. brain wrinkly & wet & such. maybe i’ll write a character study for the gaslight gatekeep girls at some point. you’re so right though misery is just So fucking delightful to read about and it’s a special kind of delectable when the characters deserve said misery.

i’m sure chloe and anika will get what’s coming to them. i can’t imagine either will remain particularly happy in their respective christmastreefarmvilles (or doodootowns, as levi would say) with just the most mediocre blandest white men who haven’t expressed a single genuine emotion since 1970

THANK YOU for your super kind message ! please use my inbox for rambles it is So delightful to me i love hearing y’all’s rambles it’s the best!!

[murfpersonalblog]

Murf's AMA: Mayfair Witches

@adamnablelittledevil you sent me such an incredibly lovely & thorough ask that I wanted to address every single point you made. So I'm breaking your PM up into separate AMA-style posts. Thank you SO much!

"And your comments on the stories really help! I don't know if I'll agree with you, but you're able to say something I can completely comprehend without spoilers and give me an idea of how they are, so thank you!"

Any time! Yes, my particular stance on AR's Mayfair books is largely based on my own personal fascination with different IRL conceptions of the afterlife, and how IRL witchcraft/magic/divination/necromancy all fits in wrt communing with the spirits of the dead/undead. So reading The Witching Hour completely rewired my brain--I owe AR a huge debt. Her ghost stories just give me everything I need.

"The way you described Lasher sounds terrifying. 👀 I wonder if it is as bad as Lestat's turning, the story of the twins or the Roman Coven killing the palazzo boys and torturing Armand because those were the darkest moments of TVC for me (I ignore what she pulled on TTOTBT). Is it just as heavy or worse?"

Hrm. It's complicated for me. Like, IMO Armand has hands down THE worst & most sympathetic backstory out of all the TVC characters (except Claudia). Kidnapped & gaslit & brainwashed by a satanic cult, and abandoned by the one person you trusted & loved the most when you failed to meet his ridiculously high standards/expectations.... IMO Armand is the strongest character to have withstood all that for so long and still come out the other side with his soul intact, omg.

As for Lasher, it's the totality of his iron grip over the Mayfairs for 500+ years that makes me personally put his treatment of people on the same/similar level as the Children of Satan.

There's no one Mayfair I feel particularly sadder or better for; it's them as a collective whole. There's things Lasher does to some of the Mayfairs that is just...it's graphic. With Armand it's different, cuz of the heavily romanticized & disjointed way he often tells his story. The gothic horror comes from seeing the ways traumatized people reflect on the bad things that happened to them--Armand's memory is just as spotty as Louis' sometimes; and the way he talks about Marius alllll the way to Blood Communion makes the fandom divided on what we're supposed to do with them.

But with the Mayfairs, there's no sugar-coating the carnage or softening/obfuscating the blows at all--AR describes things viscerally & graphically & explicitly in a way that you CANNOT excuse Lasher for. Even at the end of Lasher, when they "Let the devil speak his story," the prophecy (AR's Word of God) has already decided that his pretty words & excuses & tragic backstory don't effing matter in the end--he WILL be killed. Cuz he is 100% a PREDATOR, NOT a problematic love interest with abusive/grooming tendencies (a la Lestat & Marius).

Like, the vast majority of the TVC/IWTV fandom laughs at incest wrt Lestat & Gabrielle, cuz Lestat romanticizes so much of his trauma that it's hard sometimes to take it seriously. But incest with the Mayfairs is no laughing matter. It's sheer horror that's supposed to make you darn near physically ill reading about how much Lasher's twisted & manipulated everything. He's a MONSTER, eff how much he cries.

Granted, I still think the Mayfairs were awful immoral people, in ways that I don't see Armand. Unlike a brainwashed cult member, the Mayfairs KNEW Lasher was evil and that everything he gave them was tainted by his evil deeds. They call him the Devil. Unlike the Twins, they didn't control spirits ethically, in order to help their community and work towards the betterment of their society--they controlled Lasher selfishly, in order to gain riches & power. They think they can outsmart him, and pay the price.

But because they're women, they're vulnerable by default, as they lived during the Middle Ages & Tudor period & all these other times when women were being systemically persecuted by the Church; and then domestically oppressed at home as their husbands had full legal control over their bodies AND their money. The Mayfair designees completely buck the system; they're entirely matriarchal, but their power STILL comes from a demonic patriarch. So I sympathize with the lengths they felt they needed to go to, to remain at the top of the social pyramid--even if they were slaves to their greedy desires, and slaves to Lasher, as he manipulated them into thinking it was the reverse. They're victims and villains, in the best & worst of ways that always makes AR's characters so dang complex & interesting.

I think what happens to them is beyond effed up, but sometimes certain witches (*cough* Margueritte, Julien, Rowan, etc) I feel kinda deserved it???? But not even, cuz there's so much incest & mental illness in their family too, which makes me go Dang! They're not right in the head, so is it even fair to even blame them for all this? And ofc a ghost is LITERALLY manipulating them. But at what point does personal responsibility & accountability come in, esp. for Rowan?

Like, even Carlotta's evil arse has a lot in common with Coven Master Armand's most extreme(ly bad) actions--someone I absolutely love. So why do I hate her? When really, she was right all along! Her extremist draconian methods SUCKED; but if she got The Witch Carlotta book the way we got TVA, would my opinion of her change? More than likely! (Unless it was more like Blood & Gold, in which case....bye Felicia. 🙄😒)

So yeah, I see the Mayfairs as very similar to the Children of Satan, but flipped--they worship the Devil to get rich; NOT cuz they think they're inherently evil & deserve to suffer (a la Armand & the other vampires).

[reejindeed]

Hi ceej, hope you're well! I was wondering how you draw scenes with multiple characters without getting overwhelmed and how you decide what poses they should be in?

When it comes to big group shots, I try to break things down into little vignette scenes by grouping characters together, usually in groups of two-three. Those two to three characters all have something going on, either someone's doing something and the rest are reacting to it or someone is striking a pose and the others are striking poses around that pose. You give yourself one anchor point, one action, and then think of how the characters would react to that action... Then you just keep repeating that process with however many characters you need to squeeze into the piece. From there it's about contrasting body language and facial expressions. Just the regular "family photo" shot can be kind of boring, especially if it feels overly posed. Generally I try to go with something that feels very candid.

Unfortunately when it comes to how to decide what to start with from there, I can't help much. I've never fully been able to describe my method beyond I'm just... Drawing what I see? I don't always feel like I'm really the one deciding what's going on in my drawings, everyone has always kind of moved around and did whatever they want. I just apply the filter of "this is supposed to be this character." I can "direct" in the way that you can direct a model, but unless you physically went up to them and moved them around like a paper doll yourself there's only so much control you have.

This is why I really struggle to explain HOW to draw something (like hands or faces) or how I choose what I draw. In my eyes, I'm drawing what I can see. I spent a lot of time training myself to "look harder, see more," throughout high school and college, so this is the method I've always preferred. Even though I'm not working from photo reference or anything like that, I can "see the model" that I get the basic shapes and movements and gestures from that I can apply to whoever it's meant to be, if it's meant to be fanart.

So other than breaking open your skull and trying to completely rewire your brain to be as crazy as mine, my suggestion would be to look at group shots from comic books and photos. See how everyone is interacting with each other, and what little stories they seem to be telling... Then think about what kind of story you want to tell yourself. It doesn't have to be a full epic, it can be as simple as "X decided to annoy Y and Z finds that amusing. A and B are judging from the sidelines, having their own conversation about it." I think a lot of baroque-era genre paintings also set these scenes really effectively, if you want something more historical to look to.

[honeyandthunderstorms]

Hello there dear, I just wanted to you to know that I have been fangirling over closer I get, can you resist? for some time now. I normally tend to avoid stuff where both of them are not drivers (one of them being an f1 driver though, that is my jam). But I read can you see right through me?  and I was hooked and wanted more, because that was some peak angst. So good, now I can not unsee this Daniel Charles angle it is forever written somewhere on my brain. So that is how I got to closer I get and it got to me with the first few chapters. Like it is such fun take on their dynamic and I the way you write pining/grovelling Mas is just so precious to me (also his obsesion with Charles while not realising that he is in fact obseses with him before they even got together, yay). And the way Charles is confused at every nice thing he does, it just made me swoon for them. They are just so good for each other in that fic. How both of them actually handle the thing with Pierre like mostly adult humans. Your writing is so good, it just flows so nicely. You get the characters across so well. So yeah, just came here to gush about you and your writting for a little while. I do have a question though, do you have any other projects in the pipeline? And a second one, how do you manage to have multiple wips at once (I would cry)?

hello loveeeee 🫶🏼

I’m so happy to hear how much you’re enjoying it so far 🥹 it’s the first fic I’ve really let myself continue to indulge in and write (longest fic I’ve written to date). so it means a lot to hear whenever anyone likes it so thanks a million for this ask 🥹

and ugh, can you see right through me? rewired something in my brain when I wrote it. I do not know where it came from, but I’m so glad to hear you like that one as well. it was my first lestappen fic that I wrote (even if they’re only in it at the end 😅) so it’s very dear to me.

now, for other works, I have so many in my drafts, but they’re all one shots for now. I’ve been sitting on a Miami GP fic literally since Miami… but when it comes to lestappen, they really do get my brain juices flowing and I always have ideas to think of. though, my main focus is getting my main 2 fics pumped out before I super worry about anything else. of course, if an idea strikes me so, I must write it hehe 🤭

and onto having multiple wips at a time, it is a pain, trust me. I do cry a bit bc I feel I'm not being completely fair with updating both. however, CIGCYR, is already mapped out completely and just needs to be written. usually I am a go with the flow writer so I’m very happy to at least have an idea with where I’m going with that fic.

thank you for your support, honey. it means the world. also thanks for spending your time to send this. much love 💗

[scullysflannel]

alias season 3 is not even close to as good as seasons 1 and 2 (what is) but what I love is it's so MAD. from everyone else’s perspective sydney bristow came back from the dead; from sydney’s perspective, which is also ours, she woke up one day and found out two years had passed and everything was different. everyone wants her to smile and be gentle and instead she seethes. I will never ever forget the feeling of being 14 years old and expecting her to say yes of course I'm fine when vaughn came to check on her, only for her to eviscerate him and tell him she's doing horrible and by the way he was a bad boyfriend for not believing she was alive after they identified her dead body in the charred remains of her apartment. that one rewired my brain. it was better that she was barely making sense. women didn't have to be small; women could be fucked up in a way that takes up space. sydney's a brilliantly realized character in the first two seasons of alias — she's self-righteous alongside her vulnerability, and as smart as she is she gets rash and illogical whenever it gets personal — but the way she and the show keep so many balls in the air dazzles you into thinking she's always going to be able to cope this well. and then in season 3 she kind of comes back from the dead wrong. but not really back from the dead and not really wrong, because she's just keeping it real. she's being a little mean. she picks fights with her ex-boyfriend's new wife and admits "I hate her." and when her ex needs her help fixing the problems he caused, sydney stands in front of him in sunglasses with her arms crossed. cool! ALSO!!! her evil ex-boss has rehabilitated his image and is now a global humanitarian because bad men are given infinite second chances no matter how many bodies their empire is built upon. but sydney won’t forget. she literally has no memory of his rehabilitation, and neither do we, and she's not buying it, and neither are we. it’s a vacuum in the narrative. he asks her to believe he's done the work and she says no when no one else will. and isn't that how the whole world feels. 

it’s a season of almost complete isolation in the wake of this violent series of violations: her body, her mind, her home, her relationship, and now she’s even being told she should be nicer to the man who killed her fiance and her best friend. and I’m not letting the writers off the hook for one of those violations (they took her ova), but the way the season and the show are anchored in her perspective is emotionally visceral in a way that covers a few sins. when sydney was a child she was hardwired not to be brainwashed (trained by her father, one of the only men she actually gets closer to in season 3 — a violation circling back around to being the only kind of love she knows) and I think alias is sort of like that. it’s so hardwired to tell the story from sydney’s point of view that even when it isn’t totally facing the consequences of the plot (she gets one episode to cry that they took her ova) they’re still deeply felt. one thing alias always understands is the cruelty of expecting a woman to smile through her suffering, so the more she suffers the angrier the show intuitively gets. so sydney just goes around biting people’s heads off

[outrunningthedark]

i feel like i watch the show the same way you do. i pick up on the ~vibes~ and see how buddie COULD work if they went that route, but i don’t think they ever will and i also see how if they did it would come completely out of left field to a casual viewer

Yep, this is exactly it. I was absolutely 100% in the same boat as the bloggers coming up with ways in which every Buck and Eddie story line can bring us to canon!Buddie back when I first joined fandom (in time for season four) right up through 6x01, but after that...sometime between Eddie not going to Buck to talk about Chris's quest for independence (despite CONFIRMING that if Chris would confide in ANYONE it would be Buck) and Buck actually being a successful sperm donor after what you'd think would have been multiple "signs" from the universe that he shouldn't go through with it...my brain like, rewired itself where I just...stopped looking at everything as a shipper. And listen, there's nothing wrong with only watching a show for a ship - I have admitted many times that the Buckley-Diaz fam is what interests me most because of Chris's presence - but realizing that this show and this ship doesn't dictate my happiness or my reason for existing on tumblr allowed me to step back and take the content for what it is in the moment instead of trying to figure out what secret meaning there could be behind it *if* (I think there are some folks who definitely forget we're speaking in hypotheticals!) the show runners are contemplating making the transition from friends to romantic lovers. Everything we've seen from Buddie so far in s6 is an extension/continuation of something from a previous season, save for Eddie showing legit fear when Buck was dangling from the wire, but...even in his delirious state post-shooting he was worried about Buck, right? The concern was elevated a notch to match the circumstance. (& then Oliver had to come out and be like "Please do not read into it right now. It's how a best friend should react.") The biggest reason why it felt/feels "different" to people is because we just went through well over a full season of both characters in relationships and the show couldn't throw either of them into ANOTHER ONE right away, so we were bound to get Buddie/Buckley-Diaz content while living the single life to mirror s3. The funny thing is, though (it's one more thing nobody wants to point out)...Buddie content outside of work was nonexistent in 6A because of "different dynamics" WHILE THERE WERE NO LOVE INTERESTS. Once 6B came around and Eddie's dating arc was about to start? Once Buck was about to meet Natalia for the first time? Oh. Look who can be friends again. How, exactly, is that different from what we witnessed in s4 and s5? Uh huh. That's what I thought. :)

[elderflowergin]

Hey hey! I don't know if can articulate it as well as you. But, My Dearest has endeared me to him quite a bit(a lot). I am in the rabbit hole at this point, currently on episode 12 of Hot Stove League, and it is so weird to see him so demure(?) compared to his other roles where he does use his full body quite a lot to express himself. Here, he gets shoved around and startled, and it's a far cry from the sword wielding warrior he is in My Dearest. But he does it so well, I kinda want to cradle his face in my hands and until he sees himself the way I see him, which is 😍😍( when he held a baby for the first time). I also stopped One Dollar Lawyer for similar reasons and The Veil. However, I did spend some time on Falsify(a hidden gem, truly). Him and Oh Junge Se are brothers, journalists, and it delves into the world of journalism and the responsibility of media in shaping public opinion etc, I haven't finished but he's so good at, I don't what to call him, to put it simply, a man who is angry at what has been 'done' to his brother and by extension him. By the way, any hopes or expectations for the 2nd part of My Dearest, for the characters and the story? I kinda don't want to create any illusions of what is to come, and just enjoy the story for it is but ahh, the situation looks so dire. Thanks for welcoming me into your inbox.

Hi again Anon! I completely get you. I loved how different he was in Hot Stove League - it’s such a restrained performance. The character of Baek Seung-soo is interesting to me because he feels like a cold and distant person when you see him, and you realise how principled and generous he is only through his actions. It’s a challenge for any actor, and I love that he did it well and was such a good foil for both Park Eun-bin and Oh Jung-se. I don’t wish to cradle his face (I’m afraid I’d break it) but I did want to put him in my pocket and carry him everywhere.

Sadly Falsify doesn’t seem to be on any of my services, so I will have to wait until the coming Namgoong Minaissance encourages someone to carry it. I didn’t check it out so I didn’t know he plays Oh Jung-se’s brother, which is fascinating to me since I loved their arc in Hot Stove League. Thank you for telling me more about this show!

As for Namgoong Min in My Dearest: he is so expressive and I absolutely love that about watching him.

I could go on and on (and I will!) but I’ll talk about one scene in particular: the one where he carries Ahn Eun-jin across the riverbed which rewired my brain. She’s being carried by him, which must be a novel sensation, since she’s alive to his body in a way the other girls were not. She sees the perspiration on his face, and you can see how it makes her feel, how she’s overwhelmed by — not handsomeness, really, but pure attraction and want. She’s almost entranced, and she touches his face, his sweat, which is, yes, gross, but deeply intimate, like blood. And he notices; how can he not when she touches his temple? He could probably feel her gaze from a mile away, let alone a physical touch. And so he turns and looks at her, and that face says so much, reflecting so much possession, want and banked desire.

Both actors are so subtle and wonderful, and yet convey the undeniable attraction between the characters. For two people who talk nonstop at each other and deny their feelings throughout it all, their true feelings reveal themselves with surprising ease in other ways. I love that so much.)

As for season 2: I didn’t like how their arc ended at the last episode of part 1, but I don’t think it was inconsistent with Jang Hyeon’s character or bad writing necessarily. I’m ultimately glad Gil-Chae stayed with her family. I hope Gil-chae and Ryang Eum become besties. I hope Gil-chae continues to be the successful businesswoman that she is. I hope her friends remain by her side. I think Jang Hyeon has a lot of work and growing up to do. I get that the storyline needs them back together, so for what it’s worth I hope he grovels and begs and is a repentant, changed man when he returns to her.

(I understand that this isn’t a prevalent opinion about them as a couple, and I’m fine with that! I also get that all of this is unlikely to happen, so I’m not resting my hopes on it :’().

Thank you Anon for letting me go on and on about this. Happy watching Namgoong Min and I hope Oct 13th gets here soon! ❤️