#i get on my knees and cry for His inability to to Just. To have some Feelings.

[bluesidez]

request for curvy girl and Miguel on their first date night after having a baby?

[Parents Night Out]

 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Curvy!Reader, Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel and his girl enjoy a night out without their baby as best as they can.

content warning: fluff, mom and dad pet names as endearment (and a hint at something more), Miguel loves reader’s body, some mentions of a horror?? film (but nothing gruesome or horrible), a little suggestive but mostly fluff

word count: 2k

a/n: It took me a while to get here, but I hope you enjoy it!

You pull your dress down at the sides, smoothing out the wrinkles, the material scrunching up every time you move. 

Dangly earrings to match the necklace on your chest, a spritz of perfume to your wrists and neck, a slide of gloss across your lips, and a final look in the mirror to see if everything was in check. 

“Honey, you almost ready?”

Miguel stepped into the bedroom, eyes focused on the cuff of his shirt.

“Yeah, I just need to put on my heels,” you peer at him through the mirror and turn around. “You look very handsome right now.”

Miguel peered up at you with a soft smile on his face. He walks over to you as you stand, “Thank you and you look stunning, Mama.” He runs his hands over your hips, squeezing the plush skin.

“No, no, no. We said no baby talk tonight!” you chide like you didn’t almost cry leaving your baby at your mom’s house. You gave her what felt like a binder full of notes just for her to lodge it back in your passenger seat with a comment on how she knew what she was doing. When you got back to your house, you wallowed for an hour before realizing that you could finally take a long, long nap without the small cries of Gabriella forcing your eyes open.

“I didn’t say anything!” He holds his hands up. “I’m just saying your name.”

You hum as your head tilts, “Is this just a scheme for me to call you Daddy?’

Miguel pursed his lips before he answered, “No. But, I’m not opposed to that.’

“Of course, you’re not,” you laugh as you move him out of your way. 

He follows you as you walk to the closet and grab your shoes, hands never leaving you when you bend down deep.

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this,” you sigh as you snap back up and look at him from the corner of your eye. “But we have to make it out of the house today.”

“We’re going, I promise,” he kissed your lips. “Let me put on your heels for you.”

Miguel held your waist as you both walked to the door, taking constant glances at you. 

During the third trimester, you had worried that the baby would change your body drastically, a frown on your face as you rubbed cocoa butter onto your stretch marks. Miguel was always there, taking over with steady rubs and affirmations into your skin. 

You were doing something magical and remarkable by bringing another human into this world, by having his child. He was going to remind you everyday that you were beautiful. 

Plus, the baby weight only made him love your body more. He’s been holding you from the waist down nonstop for a little over a year now. 

He let you use his shoulders as leverage as he slid your strappy shoes on and kissed your knee after tying the strings tight. The movement was a habit built from your pregnancy and inability to see your feet.

“Let’s go party.”

The two of you were a vision in coordinating red and black. Miguel’s tiny details from his tie and threading matching the dark velvet of your dress. 

Getting to the restaurant is the fun part. 

He won’t let you touch a single door handle, running to every door before you can even blink. 

He holds your hand as you step into the passenger seat and buckles your seatbelt for you, grinning wide when you peck his cheek. 

On the way to the reservation, the two of you sing wholeheartedly to R&B with no fear of waking the baby with the slightest sound. 

At a red light, Miguel belts through a long riff using your hand as a mic as you laugh at his antics. When the song switches to something even more romantic, he’s gripping your thighs and rubbing circles into the top of your hand. 

When he pulls up closer to the restaurant, you gasp loud. 

“Miguel!” your eyes sparkled as you read the large sign. It was a place you were dying to try for over a year, but every time you called, they were booked. “How did you even get a reservation?”

“I have my ways.”

At the valet, he runs around the car and guides you out, holding your purse for you, not wanting to see you bothered with it. 

He handled everything tonight, from the place you were going to, to the reservations to the movie tickets. You could only see him as he gave his name to the host at the front. 

“Thank you,” you say to him once you both are inside and settled at a table. “Such a gentleman tonight.”

“Anything for you. Don’t want you to worry at all. Just enjoy this.”

The waiter came with complementary bread and water, sliding the menus in front of you both. Miguel ordered a bottle of wine, not even gawking at the price, while your eyes scanned the list of options. 

You both settled on an appetizer to share, entrees to split, and a sweet dessert to feed each other. 

“It’s so lovely in here,” you look around, the dim lighting making it a more intimate scene. A jazz band was playing softly on a stage and the centerpieces sparkled on the table. “I love it.”

“I’m glad,” Miguel reached across the table, “I know you’ve been eyeing this place for a while. I really wanted to surprise you.”

Your eyes almost tear up taking in his sincere expression, “Thank you, truly. This means a lot that you listened.”

“Listening to you comes easy. It’s only when I can’t do something to help you that I feel like everything closes in.”

“Oh,” you blink fast at his words. You look up and fan at your face, “Miguel that’s-”

He pulls out his handkerchief, not wanting you to ruin your makeup. 

“Don’t cry here, baby,” his voice is soft and sweet. 

“I won’t. I just love you lots.”

“And I love you lots more.”

By the time the food comes, you both have stated several more love declarations and recounted your younger days together. You helped yourself to glass or two of wine, the smile never leaving your face, but the giggles escaping every second. 

Now, Miguel was telling you an old story about how he busted his ass to impress you. 

“You don’t get it, cariño. I was so…adamant about getting a certain look because I was certain you didn’t even know who I was.”

“What you don’t know is that a lot of women love nerdy men. I definitely noticed you, I was just waiting on you to make a move.” 

Miguel fed you the last bits of a cream puff dessert, watching your lips slide over the fork. 

You hum and cover your mouth as you chew, “Do you remember that punk phase you had?”

“Oh, would you look at that,” Miguel glances at his watch and waves down a waiter. “If we don’t leave right now, we’re going to miss the movie.”

You cackle at the peeved look on his face.

He was cute with his uneven mullet and pleather jackets. It definitely wasnt’t his scene, though.

The night continues in a pink, warm haze. The sun is slowly setting as you both head to the theater. Miguel hands you more comfortable shoes and places his tie in the back. 

It’s fun to walk into the theater hand-in-hand like a young couple without a care in the world. Buying a popcorn bucket to share and big slushies like you didn’t just eat. 

The movie is what messes you both up. 

It starts off nice. The two of you are settled on the last row with no one else around, the perfect spot for cuddles, kisses, and more. 

Miguel moves the middle arm to bring you closer to him and you slot into his hold like butter. 

The main characters are a couple moving into a new home in the middle of nowhere with a teenager, a child, and a baby. It’s sweet and a little cliche with the couple thinking that the change in scenery would help them connect with their oldest daughter. 

However, of course, there’s something wrong with the house. It’s a bit too perfect, the area too serene. 

You hold Miguel tight as you watch the mom and dad fight for their lives to make sure whatever entity that resided in their house didn’t take their family away from them. 

The father is kicking through a bolted door, trying to pry it open for freedom. The mother is holding her daughter by the legs as she tries to keep her brother alive. You breathe easier as she pulls her brother out of the crumbling floorboards. Your heart stops its rushing pace as you see four of the family members rushing outside. 

“Where’s the baby?” Miguel’s voice snapped you back into pace. His hands were firm on your skin but his eyes were glued to the screen. 

“I, I don’t know,” you whisper.

The scenes that played after had Miguel anxiously moving in his seat. His foot was shaking by the end of the chair, his arms were twitching around your body, and his hands kept fiddling with your jewelry. 

The dad traversed his way back through the house, listening for cries. Miguel looked like he was holding back a yell, body leaning forward as he locked in on the scene. 

The father made it out alive with his baby daughter in his arms. 

By the time the movie was over, the velvet of your dress had his handprints all over. 

You look at him as the lights turn on, his face blank of emotion. 

The walk to the car is quiet, nothing to be heard but the crickets in the grass and the blast of music from someone’s passing vehicle. 

When he slides into the driver’s seat, you lean over the console with a squeeze to his arm, “Are you alright?”

“Is it,” his hand grips the wheel. “Is it ok if we call your mom? To check on Gabriella.”

“Of course, baby,” you rub his shoulders and pull out your phone, your mothers number at the top of your most-recent list.

After a few rings, she picks up. Her head shakes as she takes in both of you with your heads smooshed together in the camera’s view. 

“Look at you both,” she fusses. “Just sad.”

The camera blurs for the longest seconds of your lives, and then it shuffles over a sleeping Gabriella. Her chunky belly moved up and down with her soft breaths and her eyelashes long against her cheeks. She was like a little angel, tiny fingers twitching every now and then. 

Miguel let out a long breath next to you as if he was holding it all this time. 

The camera goes back to your mom who shuffles back to her own bedroom, “Do you two know what the definition of break is?”

“Yeah, mom. Miguel just wanted to check on her. The movie we watched frazzled him a bit.”

“It didn’t frazzle me,” Miguel sniffed. “I’m just a concerned father.”

“Well get unconcerned and don’t call me back! Me and my grandbaby are perfectly fine and you’ll see her tomorrow. Got it? Good.”

She hung up as you let an affronted sound, “I guess you heard that.”

The night ends a little easier. Miguel is more relaxed and decides to take advantage of the empty house. 

He prepares a hot relaxing bath filled with bubbles and a flowery aroma, candles lighting the bathroom while you turn on a sultry playlist and bring out some champagne. 

There’s a dark glint in Miguel’s eyes as you step into the tub, body open for him to see. You bend down and lay on him face to face. 

“This was an amazing date night. Baby-snatcher house and all.”

“We should do it again sometime,” Miguel massages his hands into your back. “While we still can.”

“But for tonight?” your hands run over his wet shoulders, eyes roaming from the curves and turns of him up to his lips to his eyes. “Let’s have fun.”

Miguel groaned as his lips met yours, the water splashing around as his legs move to the edges of the tub.

“Let’s go all night.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[faghubby]

No secrets

"I am serious, he begged me to fuck his ass" I heard My wife Alice tell her friend Jill. Although she was trying to be quiet. As I walked into the kitchen. They both fell silent as I walked in. Jill smiled unable to hide the fact that she knew I had over heard them by my red face and inability to look at them.

"Did you, did you like being fucked in the ass?" Jill asked giggling as she looked me in the eyes.

"He did" Alice smiled knowing I would enjoy being exposed. "Didn't you sweety?" Alice stood behind me running her hands across my ass. "Tell Jill how much you love your ass toyed with" Alice cooed.

I couldn't speak. But Alice continued to tease me.

"Alice he has a nice big toy he likes to fucked with its much bigger then his little pee pee" Alice laughed. I was ready to cum in my shorts. And wanted to cry. Jill looked on with amusement. I couldn't hold back and came in my pants. A wet spot appeared in the front of my shorts.

"Naughty boi" Alice scolded me. "Go get cleaned up" Alice to

me. then leaned in and whispered. "Maybe a pair of my panties would fit" she kissed me on the cheek. I scurried off. We had never discussed crossdressing. But I was intrigued by the idea. I found a pair of pink satin panties in her drawer and put them on they where tight but I loved the softness. Alice walked in dropped her pants I watched as she strapped on her toy.

"Did you like me telling Jill?" She asked she sat on the hard backed chair in the corner of our room. "Come sit on my lap. And ride my big cock, slut" Alice told me. I walked over to her she had me remove my shirt and pulled my panties to the side. She lubed my ass as I lowered myself onto her cock. I moaned and stared to fuck myself. Taking a bit more every time I came down.

"Tell me you are a slut, a fucking homo slut" Alice said biting my ear.

"I am a slut, I love your cock in my ass" I told her.

"Homos like their ass fucked. You mist be a Homo" Alice told me she scratched my chest and bit and sucked my neck.

"I am a homo" I moaned.

"I know baby" Alice laughed. I came again this time all over her stomach.

She held me in place, all 8 inches buried inside me. She scooped up my cum on two fingers. And bought it to my mouth.

"Homos eat cum" she told me. She pushed her fingers into my mouth.

"Such a faggot" Alice smiled and kissed me. She let me up and then stripped the rest of the way.

"Come fuck me" she pulled me into bed. But having cum twice in such a short time I couldn't get hard. "Well use your tounge then" Alice scolded. I made her cum then she held me close cuddling I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke Alice was not there. I found a pink lace thong Alice had left for me with a note.

"Went out for a drink, put these on" it read. I cleaned up and did just that. I then texted Alice to see when she would be home.

"Don't worry about that girlie boi, I am out with some friends." She replied. "Wouldn't you love it if you where smooth like a real girl" she sent then went silent.

It was very late when she came home. She was drunk. Someone had dropped her off.

She pulled me close and whispered in my ear.

"I am a cheating whore" she told me grasping my rock hard cock. I wanted to push her away. Yell, scream. But instead I just stood there in her panties shivering with excitement.

"OH god" I moaned. She pushed me to my knees and lifted her skirt her panties where soaked with another man's cum. She pulled my face into her. Rubbing my nose in his cum. She peeled her panties off. Still holding me close. She pushed my head into her crotch again.

I licked and sucked his cum from her as she stood with her legs spread moaning. Not until she was sure I had cleaned up every drop did she push me away. She stood me up and led me to the bedroom.

"I think you should wear this" Alice told me pulling out a satin nightie. It was very tight on me.

"You haven't said a word" she giggled. But as I went to she put her finger to my lips to silence me. "You didn't shave" she commented looking disappointed. She stripped and slept naked spooning me. She ran her hands all over my satin nightie as she told me how she was so excited to have had a real man afrer years. I was rock hard the whole time. She drifted off to sleep. I was so excited I couldn't sleep. So I reached down and started to jerk off. But just as I started Alice stirred.

"No, baby stop that. That's not how girlie boi play with themselves" Alice told me pushing my hand away.

"Tommarrow I will take you shopping for you're very on vibrator" she told me tucking my still throbbing cock into her panties. She pulled the back to the side. She grabbed some lube off her night stand and rubbed it against my whole. Her fingers slipped in easily after fucking it this afternoon.

She then curled me up lifting my legs. She guided my own hand to play with my ass.

"That's it deep, finger your pussy. She encouraged me to work more fingers in. I had four fingers working my ass after 30 minutes the front of my panties where soaked in my own cum as it was milked out of me.

"God you are such a slut" Alice told me trying to work even more of my hand into my ass. I was done and wanted to stop bit Alice kept pushing me to go further. "You should of told me how much of a faggot you are before we got married" Alice told me. Finally letting me stop and go get cleaned up.

As I came back to bed Alice said. "I expect you are going to love your new role around here" as she kissed me on the forehead and held me as we drifted off to sleep.

[monoclesnapple]

Intermediate Shenanigans

Bungo Stray Dogs Chuuya Nakahara & Gender Neutral Reader + Osamu Dazai & Reader + Odasaku X Reader Summary: Headcanons about taking care of middle schooler Dazai and Chuuya and dating Oda Beginning Note: Shoutout to all the class clowns/funny people, they're great inspiration for scenarios. @kiwibeanv helped with the stories of said funnies. Word Count: 2629 (Fluff/Crack)

First off, you're their parent figure and they live with you. All comfy with you and they trust you a lot. Now to move on to their stupidity.

Immaturity at its finest.

It’s constant arguing, pointing fingers, and the like.

They’re always fighting for your attention, pushing against each other so your hand can pet them.

You’re sitting on the couch, watching TV, when Dazai runs into the living room and jumps to the spot next to you. Since you’re leaning against the armrest, there’s only one seat next to you.

Dazai pushes himself under your arm and hugs your waist as he sighs contentedly. You idly rub his arm for a few minutes before Chuuya comes in with an annoyed expression.

“Oi, StinkZai, do your history homework before you go do whatever.”

Dazai whined and buried himself deeper into your side. “I’ll do it later! I’m tired right now.” He closed his eyes.

“Dazai, you need to do your assignments before you eventually forget and never get them done,” you told him. He let out a groan at that, “Why can’t Chuuya do it? Isn’t he supposed to listen to me since I’m smarter?”

“You’re not smarter than me! Even a shrimp can do better than you!” Chuuya sped to the two of you and pulled on Dazai until the latter fell to the floor.

“Ow!- That’s my spot!” The brunette rubbed his arm. Chuuya had stolen his spot in your arms now and smirked at the other.

“Maybe you should’ve done your homework first, you idiot!” He blew a raspberry and rested his head on your shoulder.

You sighed, “If you two continue to fight, I’m simply going to go to my room and relax without either of you.”

They both froze and looked at you then at each other. Despite their inability to cooperate without trouble, they agreed on the fact that your presence was probably the most important thing they want. They begrudgingly decided to keep quiet, moving so Chuuya can sit on one of your knees while Dazai reclaimed his initial place.

Eventually, they get their emo phases. One day, Dazai just randomly started wearing bandages over his eye, saying that he looks better.

“Why are you wasting bandages?” “Because I look so cool and a lot of girls come up to me and say I look nice! I know that so many people have a crush on me, especially when I’m like this!” “Just wait til they find out that this stupid mackerel is actually a bad person and a major turn off!” “Chuuya, don’t say that, please.”

And Chuuya had a Sonic phase. He thought the hedgehog was so cool, he wanted to be like him in as many ways he can.

He then found out about Conker’s Bad Fur Day and asked you if he could get it. You thought it’d be a wholesome game for kids, but when you looked at the plot and ratings, you didn’t buy it for him. He was sad, but got over it.

And then he came across Devil May Cry and decided to watch the gameplay and cutscenes because you might not buy it for him (you may consider, but it still has some scenes that you’re skeptical about.)

Nero from DMC4 is so cool despite the excessive “Kyrie!” throughout the game, Chuuya wants to dress like him. And dye his hair white.

Every time he loves a character, he wants to dye his hair their own hair color, but you never let him because why should he ruin his lovely hair? (He may or may not ask to dye his hair just so you can compliment him.)

Hot Topic is their favorite store because it has so many aesthetics and they love the style of the apparel.

They start simping for characters and reading fanfics. You know what they’re reading because they use the family/shared device and don’t delete the history. Why are there so many lemons? What do they mean? (Unless you’re a fanfic reader yourself)

They kinda know what sex is, they have a faint idea, but they’re probably wrong on a few things.

Hence, Dazai is excited for sex ed! Wooo! His head is smacked by Chuuya because the latter is embarrassed that he just yelled that out and now kids are looking at them.

When they’re learning about it, Dazai’s snickering at the pictures. But not the childbirth, what the actual fuck did they just watch? 

Oh boy, now they’re the cringe and immature kids who laugh at everything that can vaguely be related to sex.

Anyways, now to the scenario that was the whole reason for this

You were sitting on the couch, Dazai and Chuuya on the floor and you’re petting their heads. You check your phone, keeping a hand on Chuuya’s head and caressing it. He’s smiling with his eyes closed in bliss. Oh, how he loves this affection.

Until Dazai pushes and climbs on him to be the receiver of your pets. He smiles innocently when you glance over, but smirks at Chuuya, who shoves him as well and takes his spot back.

This continues to go on and you’re about to say something, but then the door is unlocked and opened. Dazai excitedly turns to see Oda coming in. He runs over and hugs the man while Chuuya sets himself in your lap.

After greeting Dazai, Oda is carrying him and walks to you and Chuuya, pressing a kiss to your head and ruffling Chuuya’s hair.    

You're in a relationship with Oda, and Dazai loves it.

His two favorite people together, who he might call his parents? How blessed he is!

He doesn’t know who he prefers, so the two of you are equal in his eyes. But when it comes to physical affection, he might go to Oda since Chuuya’s all over you and Dazai’s too tired to do anything. Also, he doesn’t see Oda as often as he does you.

Chuuya thinks Oda is great, but he’s not as close to him as Dazai is. If he had to choose between you or Oda, he’d honestly choose you.

Oda loves coming home to find you three waiting for him on the couch. It warms his heart that he is wanted and loved.

Either he comes home to you all cooking dinner, sleeping in a pile on the floor, playing games (board games or video) , or watching TV.

He still takes care of his adopted children at the curry shop, but he also enjoys the company of Dazai and Chuuya

Sometimes, he would bring those five kids to your house so they can play with Dazai and Chuuya. Everyone has fun, it’s like a party. (Sneaking kisses in the kitchen as everyone else plays video games on the TV)

Oda is a gentleman, whenever you two go out, he always opens the door for you, pulls out your seat, and kisses your hand when you both meet and bid goodbye to each other.

If Dazai ever sees you and Oda share a kiss, he’s cheering in his mind. Whereas Chuuya just brushes it off with an unnoticeable upwards twitch of his lips and an eye roll.

Once, you spotted Oda talking to Dazai outside under the moonlight. You knew the former was telling the teen about the right thing to do. Dazai had expressed his want of being involved in some well known group.

He hinted a little about maybe being a detective or even following Oda’s footsteps of going to the mafia. You really didn’t want him to go with the second option, but at least he’d have Oda to guide him if he’s even alive at that time

Thus, he’s told to prioritize other people’s happiness over his own. It’s tough, but it’s for the better of everyone.

He also says the same to Chuuya, but he goes into more detail with Dazai. You mainly handle Chuu with the lectures since he’s more likely to take your words to heart.

Chuuya has great friends in school, they seem like a lovely bunch, and you trust them. You’ve met them before and they were very nice.

Dazai doesn’t have as many, but you can tell he’s not really clicking with them like Chuuya is with his own. When his mood seems to lower, you go to him when he’s alone and you two cuddle. You can faintly pick up the sound of sniffles and feel your clothing moisten. After the session, you two don’t mention it because you know Dazai doesn’t want to remember that.

With any trauma, you take them to therapy. If it’s affecting either kid negatively, they need to talk about it. Initially, they talk to you, but they go see a professional if that doesn’t work.

Academically, the two of them are good. Dazai’s grades are always A’s even if he procrastinates or doesn’t seem to get his work done.

Chuuya usually gets B’s, but his PE is the best with an A+. He signs up for any sports the school offers if he’s interested.

Dazai’s lowest grade is PE, around a C because he’s not athletic like Chuuya.

Both Dazai and Chuuya have the same PE class and teacher, but their participation and effort are the opposite.

“Okay, everyone needs to do fifteen seconds of push-ups and fifteen sit-ups, let’s go! Get started!” The teacher instructed. They were walking around their class in the gym, ensuring everyone was doing what they were told.

They noticed a student lying face down next to the wall and when they walked by, they pointed at him and asked, “Who is that?”

Chuuya heard their inquiry and answered, “Dazai.”

The teacher was silent for a second before focusing back on the other students, “Let’s go! You should be on the next exercise now!”

Whenever there’s a fundraiser, they’re begging you to please donate so they can get a prize.

“Pleeeaaassseee? You can get a refrigerator stuffed with $200! Or even an iPad!” Dazai’s giving you the puppy eye(s) [depends if he’s bandaged his eye or not] and Chuuya is hugging you and kissing your cheek. “We love you so much, can you pretty please with a cherry on top donate? We’ll pay you back!” (They don’t make money, nor do they have an allowance.)

When it comes to projects, Dazai always waits until the last minute.

“Hey, can we go to the store and buy supplies? I have a project.” He whispered to you.

“Huh...?” You were woken up by him at whatever the time was, so you rubbed your eyes and sat up. Oda was still asleep beside you, a peaceful expression on his face. You kept your voice to not disturb him, “What?” When you checked the time, it was 2 am.

“I need some things for my science project,” Dazai was just standing by your bed, with big eyes, looking as though he had thrown up.

“When’s it due?”

“Tomorrow.” You frowned at that.

“Sorry bud, can’t help you. It’s too late, why aren’t you in bed?”

“I had to work on my project and other assignments,” he shifted in his spot and awkwardly averted his eyes. “I only need two things, glitter markers and a poster board.”

You stared at him tiredly, before sighing. “What happened to the ones I bought at the beginning of school?”

“I lost them.”

You blinked, unmoving. “And you can’t borrow Chuuya’s?”

He shook his head, saying they weren’t what he needed. At last, you moved the covers off your body and made your way to the closet. “Fine, go get ready. You should be thankful I’m even entertaining this idea.”

Dazai silently cheered and sped to his room. Why were you so lenient with these children? They’re gonna be spoiled.

His project was claiming that potatoes can power up devices. As stupid as it sounds, he somehow makes it convincing until it’s actually tested and obviously it doesn’t work. But he still gets a passing grade for the effort.

During one of their classes, Chuuya asked to go to the bathroom and ten minutes later when the teacher was about to ask about his location, he comes back with a lunch tray.

“Where’d you get that?” “I look like a sixth grader.”

He just munched away as everyone stared at him confused before they got back to the lesson.

Another time, the teacher left the room for a few minutes. Since Dazai wondered what their coffee tasted like, he waltzed over to the desk and took a sip and immediately spat it out.

“Ugh! It tastes like shit!” When the teacher came back, the whole class silently agreed to stay quiet and not tell on him.

When it was around Halloween and everyone could wear a costume, Dazai wore a squirrel suit. He brought an acorn prop and clipped it to the front of his pants. When walking up to the stage for the best costume contest, he hit the acorn with his legs, playing with it, until it accidently hit his balls and he crouched to the floor in pain. Of course, the guys winced at it, but it was pretty funny. Someone, Chuuya probably, yelled out, “He busted a nut!”

More nonsense, pantsing sometimes occurred. And Chuuya was the unfortunate target for Dazai. He had snuck up behind the former, and yanked down his pants. Regrettably, Dazai’s fingers also caught onto the waistband of the undergarments and when it came down, he got a face full of balls.

He was so traumatized despite being the one to commit the act.

Food fights can also happen. While Chuuya was peacefully eating his lunch, Dazai threw a tomato slice at him and the fruit made a satisfying splat! on Chuuya’s cheek.

He also tried to throw cheese, but he missed and it landed in the hair of someone who was just walking by. (And somehow did not get in trouble).

For presentations, Chuuya had to do an audio recording, and Dazai just sneezed at the beginning of it, He recorded another but when uploading the audio files, he accidently clicked the sneeze one. Presentation day was funny, but Chuuya didn’t necessarily like it.

If they had online school, Chuuya would be talking to the camera before a ball smacks his face. He falls out of frame, and Dazai is just seen running in the background.

There are also interviews or random school news done by the student council. They hate having to work with Dazai and Chuuya together because they always argue. The one time the video went right was when Chuuya had a voice crack.

Rallies also happen, and students would have to cheer as loud as they can for their team. Chuuya and Dazai are the loudest, but they also suffer from voice cracks. After the rally, they lose their voice for about a day.

Rocketry is an elective, and there’s a weird Russian kid named Fyodor. Both the boys don’t really like him. Since he’s associated with rats (Kids call him Rat, and one person did see him surrounded by rats in an alleyway as though they were dependent on him), they wanted to get a rat plushie. They asked you if you could get them the plush. You decided to buy it for them, not knowing why they actually wanted it.

They taped it to a rocket they made for the elective, put more power into it, and they launched it into the air. When it blasted off, they looked at Fyodor with threatening stares.

Occasionally, you and Oda would volunteer to help with some school activities. The first time both of you arrived, so many students had a crush on either of you. They’d go to Chuuya/Dazai and whisper “That’s your parent?”

Oda’s a dilf and you’re also a milf/dilf.

What a happy family you lot are.

[madschiavelique]

Hi! This is my first request, sorry if it isn’t that coherent. Is it cool if I send a hurt/comfort drabble request with gn reader x Miguel?

Maybe something where an enemy takes advantage of Miguel’s lack of spider sense and is severely injured to the point where he can’t keep up his tough exterior anymore. He’d probably dread how vulnerable the situation made him and would want the reader beside him for the next mission, as some kinda filler spider sense after he recovers (or just has them there for comfort but doesn’t wanna admit it LOL)

hiya anon !! this was coherent don't worry hehehe

summary : miguel gets severely injured on a mission and wants you by his sides for all the upcoming ones

content warnings : blood, cuts, miguel almost dying (he doesn't dw), flangst (?), this turns sweet, no use of Y/N, gender neutral!reader word count : 2,2k

tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel found himself alone on the field. This wasn't usually a problem, as the number of individual missions he'd carried out before forming his entire Spider Society was vast. It hadn't always been easy, of course, but he'd always managed to pull himself up, like a true Spider-Man would.

The rain clattered against the pixels of his suit, thunder rumbling between the dark clouds where skyscrapers sank like daggers into a black cotton belly.

He was out of breath, the anomaly he was facing was the typical weak point of his mutation: it was invisible, and extremely fast, which didn't help as Miguel's Spidersenses were profoundly insignificant, or even to put it simply: non-existent.

If he could get a visual on his target, everything would be perfectly fine. He could carry out his mission like the usual without a care. But invisible? That was undoubtedly his Achilles' heel in anomalies.

His hand was pressed against one of his bleeding sides as he stood breathless on a rooftop. The anomaly kept using its invisibility and speed to make unpredictable sprints to cut him from side to side.

He muttered an insult under his breath, his shoulders, arms and legs riddled with cuts of varying depths that were causing severe pain all over his body.

The anomaly was taunting him, laughing at one corner and then the next second calling out from another. The situation was becoming far too complex, and he could feel that the loss of blood from his body was starting to have an impact, weakening him enormously in this fight. It was more than a weakness actually, it was a real danger.

His eyes were looking in all directions, turning in on himself. Silence and the inability to know where his enemy was had never frightened him so much. He knew very well that the invisible things were just as dangerous as the visible ones, if not more so.

You don't always see love when it's coming, and you sometimes fail to recognise death when it arrives.

Call for help? Yes, perhaps that would be best, no matter how proud he was and how independent he wanted to be. Trying to regain a less shaky breath, he swallowed as he brought his lips to his watch:

"Lyla call the-" but he was cut off instantly by the anomaly that came at him in a flash, slicing into the back of his leg with such power that he fell to his knees with a grunt. The puddle into which he had fallen became darker, the red of his blood mingling with it under the light of one of the neon advertisements on an adjacent building.

He groaned in frustration, bringing the watch up to his mouth again.

"Lyla-" he breathed a little louder, but the anomaly cracked the silence with a high-pitched laugh as he cut into his back with a straight, deep line of his own.

Miguel arched his back, a growl mingling with a cry of desperation and terrible frustration as he lay on the ground.

Was it the rain, or was his vision becoming blurry ?

The anomaly materialised before his tired eyes, kneeling beside him, tilting its head to one side.

"All so," he laughed horribly, "big and strong and muscular." the anomaly grabbed his arm evilly, squeezing his hand over a cut that was burning hellishly, and Miguel let out screams through his teeth.

"But I'll tell you something, big buy," the anomaly said simply, moving a little closer to Miguel, who was beginning to find it harder and harder to stay awake. "In the end, we're all made of flesh that can be cut, and bones that can be broken."

He held up his knife, which the raindrops were cleaning of Miguel's blood, still glued to the blade. He then placed it against Miguel's cheek, his vision completely blurred.

"Lyla," he whispered, barely audible, using what little strength he had left to cry out for help.

He saw the knife rise, thinking to himself, this is it, it's over, he thought.

He murmured something, just something ? No, it was more important than that. He murmured your name.

He wanted, no, needed to see you now. Hear your voice, see you once more before… he just needed you by his side.

He felt so lonely.

He could’ve chosen anyone to be by his sides, heck someone was literally by his side at the moment and it was an anomaly, so he wasn’t exactly alone. But still, still, he wanted you.

The knife elevated, ready to strike him down, the sound of the anomaly’s laughter echoing in his mind in a numb way. And that’s when he saw a bright orange in the reflection of the bloody puddle, and lost consciousness.

He awoke in the infirmary, his eyes gradually adjusting to the whitish light. The aseptic air caught his nostrils, his lips were dry and a slight headache tugged at his skull.

He was lying on a stretcher in a position somewhere between sitting up and lying down. As he tried to straighten up, he was immediately stopped by an intense pain, and immediately tensed up.

"Hey hey hey, easy, easy."

He knew that voice, very, very well indeed. He opened his eyes again, slowly.

You were there, at his bedside, just above him to make sure he didn't try to get up again. He inhaled slowly, breathing hurt a little, and he wrinkled his nose in pain.

"How long was I out?" he asked, his first thought always remaining on the subject of organisation.

"Three days," you replied, standing next to him, arms folded.

"Three d-!" but the rise in his tone made his whole chest ache.

"Hey shh shh shh," you soothed, coming to rest your hand on his cheek to provide a point of anchorage for him in the middle of all of this pain.

"Three days," he breathes against your touch as he squirmed around trying to find a comfortable position without feeling like his whole body was on fire. "It's too much wasted time, I have to go back-"

"You're not going back anywhere for a little while, Miguel." you cut, voice calm.

"But I have to-" his breath came a little sharper.

"Miguel, you're not going to do anything at all except rest." you reiterated.

"Listen to me-"

"No, you listen to me," you interjected this time in a much less calm and more strict tone, which surprised him enough to stop him from continuing to fidget and breathe almost frantically. "You had a near-death experience, Miguel," your words were categorical. "And I refuse to allow you to not recover from that properly just so you can kill yourself at work instead, because... fuck, I was so scared." your voice had trailed off on the last word, broken.

Your eyes avoided his, looking up at the ceiling, biting your lip as your gaze fell back on the countless cuts he had strewn across his body. Your hand, previously on his cheek, came to rest beside him on the stretcher.

And you could feel his eyes on you, expecting your next words.

"When Lyla appeared to us... I had never seen her so serious and anxious at the same time. I have always seen her as playful and," a sigh, "sassy. But then, what she said made my heart drop," you admitted, looking him in the eye, trying to articulate.

A tear rolled down your cheek, and you immediately brushed it away, trying to pull yourself together.

"When we arrived, you were in an indescribable state, you were motionless... gosh Miguel I've never wished so much to see someone make just one movement," you breathed in, wiping away the other hot tears that wanted to flow further down your cheeks. "You can't imagine the relief I felt when they stabilised your state."

He looked at you, lips parted as he listened intently. And he thought of how he had wished you in death to bring him life and how you had wished him in life to stay away from death.

"I stayed, you know? By your side. Days, nights, whenever I could," you smiled, a small breath living your lips as you sniffed.

His heart was overflowing with emotions, all the sensations and thoughts that had taken hold of him during his confrontation with the anomaly coming back vividly to his mind, and yet he felt it all squeezed into his chest.

"I..." his voice grew small, and he swallowed to try and make his throat more cooperative to make the lump that was forming in it disappear.

"I thought... I'd never get to see you again," he admitted, inhaling softly.

His hand came to rest on yours, his fingers gently caressing your skin as you took it in yours.

"I..." his eyes were veiled by a curtain of tears that stung his nose, and he bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at your hands interlaced.

He thought back to the rain that kissed him goodbye, to the thunder that rumbled through the dark clouds as if to lecture him, to the feel of the sharp blade on his skin and the life that was gradually leaving him. But above all he remembered his vulnerability, and the possibility that this moment might be his last.

"It was so cold... I just," a tear finally rolled down his cheek, "I just wanted you to be here," his eyes returned to yours, "with me."

You could see it in his eyes, the fear, the dread that something like this could happen again. You bit your lip, your chin trembling as you gripped his hand a little tighter in yours.

"I need you by my side," he declared.

Your free hand gently wiped the tears from his cheeks, his lids closing.

"I will be by your side," you whispered, "I will protect you."

He breathed in gently, his eyes meeting yours again.

"From now on, everywhere I'll go, you'll go with me," he concluded, and you squeezed his hand in yours again.

"I'll go with you," you agreed, wiping the last tear from your cheek, the salts of your two cries combining on the back of your hand like an oath.

Miguel had recovered well. At first he'd inevitably flinched at the fact that he'd let everything be controlled by someone other than himself, but in the end he'd let it slide.

You came to visit him every day, not only to make your report but also simply to spend time with him. You always brought him empanadas from the cafeteria, knowing how much he loved them. It has to be said that if there was one thing you could often bribe Miguel on, it was empanadas. That and maybe stroking his hair...

When he finally came out of the infirmary, a tiny celebration was held. He didn't like the idea at all, but you knew deep down that the intention behind it warmed his heart.

Life went back to what it used to be, with of course a slight change that surprised everyone.

As agreed, wherever he went, you went. Every spiderperson in the Society had obviously noticed the sudden change. From one day to the next, Miguel couldn't go anywhere without you by his side.

You went on walks with him in the park, you would always eat with him at the cafeteria, you were in his office whenever he was, and it felt to most spiders now that you two would eternally be inseparable.

The time finally came for Miguel to go on a mission, where you would work with him to catch the anomaly but above all to lend him your Spidersenses, which were working to the highest perfection.

The portal formed in front of you, Miguel tensing slightly. You put your hand on one of his shoulders and he turned to you.

"It's okay, I'm here" you remarked.

This simple fact lifted a weight from his shoulders as if by magic. He smiled at you before you put your mask on, his own mask pixelating on his face, and you stepped through the portal.

You reached a rooftop, the gate closing behind you. Silence fell and Miguel tensed. He had no idea where the danger might be coming from.

"Hey, look at me," you said simply.

He turned to you, still as uptight as ever.

"Just breath okay?"

He breathed in gently, relaxing his shoulders as he listened, a little more reassured by your simple presence.

You waited patiently, not moving an inch. And what if you couldn't feel certain sensations either?

But he had nothing to worry about, because you immediately took him by the arm and drew him against the wall of the roof exit, pressing your body against his as next to you a kind of big multicoloured puddle burst violently onto the ground right where you previously were.

He was breathing heavily, his back pressed against the wall, while you were as calm as when you had arrived. His head turned towards yours, your two masked faces immensely close.

"I meant it when I said I would protect you."

He chuckled.

Wherever you go, I'll go with you.

[glitter-stained]

Hear me out because I have a vision:

Barbara- centric hacker movie. (Barbara-centric, not Birds of Prey for this one.) Like not a dc adaptation, a hacker movie that's an AU. Fair warning: I understand nothing about how hacking works.

Barbara is a thirty-five years old bisexual overqualified librarian. Every time someone asks her why she works in a library and if she's never bored she replies she likes the quiet and the books, but we see, on her work computer, that she's always reading like one science article one philosophy book and news article etc at the same time to stay stimulated; she also has several degrees and on screen we see notes of her working on p=np because it'd be funny. On a date, we see her hint that she likes that the library is calm because she gets excitement from her nightlife.

The nightlife in question: Her hacker name is of course Oracle. At first, she learnt how to code because she was bored, and then she got invested in the secrets she could unravel, but her real entry into cyber activity happened after she hunted down the identity of the man responsible for the stray bullet that paralyzed her during a shootout and framed him for tax evasion. This isn't like, the heart of the story or anything, just a little flashback to explain her motivation and how hacking helped her regain her self-confidence and grow around it. That part was cut in the final version of the movie because it was very very long but Barbara's actress and those who have seen the director's cut agree it's an important context for her characterization.

The movie is about her uncovering a fucked up ploy by the government to cover up an industrial catastrophe that's already killed hundreds, and continuing to poison people because they're burying the proof so that the industry can carry on for profit. It becomes even more complicated when she finds out not only is this a corrupted government officials issue, but the cia is involved because of the potential interest of whatever chemical is being produced in this factory as a weapon, so it's one woman against the giants of this world.

Thankfully, Barbara isn't truly alone in everything. She has or builds close relationships through the movie, such as:

-Dinah: her old highschool friend with whom she had lost contact, but Dinah doesn't know that at first: she's down on her luck (lost all her money+ scum boyfriend after scum boyfriend, etc.) and Oracle calls her and offers a sketchy job. (She cuts into the funds of some billionaire to do this, highjacking the dumb algorithm he made for tax evasion.) She calls Barbara her conscience and Jiminy (her own conscience is perfectly efficient and still she says that). Barbara is always calling her on an old kind of phone because she doesn't like technology. Barbara calls her "My hands, my eyes, my heart". Around the last third to fourth of the movie, at the start of the build-up to climax, we have the famous "Barbara...call me Barbara moment", except after that the scene continues and they fuck, like you don't see everything but it's not fade to black either, Dinah's mouth on her neck, hands untying clothes, fingers trailing across the other's skin drenched in water from the pool, the classic cliche fingers intertwining, dramatic music, and then we can fade to black.

-Dick: a 25 years old bartender with an inability to keep the same job for more than a couple of months who is haunted by the death of his parents in a circus accident when he was a kid. They start to date because she's investigating his parents' involvement in her case (they were killed to stifle down whistleblowing), I don't want them to kiss in the movie just they're clearly starting dating and then he wakes up alone in her bed and thanks to some adequate plot excuse Dick finds the file about his parents and falls to his knees. I want a scene where he's kneeling at her feet, devastated (idk if crying or not, director's choice) and she's trailing her fingers in his hair and asks him if he wants to help her get him his revenge and he looks at her with so much grief and devotion and says he'll do anything. After that moment they don't really break-up (esp since they weren't officially together) but their relationship has shifted, there's a form of affection/care/devotion but it's less romantic than the cute dating from the beginning (but no less weirder or intense). The music for them is not when she brings him back to her apartment but when he's kneeling at her lap because that's where the climax is.

> I'm not sure who more to include but I'm considering versions of Cassandra Cain, Helena Bertellini or Selina Kyle. Keep in mind that these are civilians in a hacker movie, more than having meta abilities or insane hero skills they need to be smart, brave, motivated af with a bone to pick, trusting in Oracle and generally normal people (though a reasonable measure of Selina's b&e skills certainly wouldn't hurt.)

> They find help in allies amidst doctors/scientists trying to study the apparent epidemic (but the research is being pushed down), maybe Talia al Ghul and Barry Allen?

> In any case I want Barbara to be badass and flawed in a way that's like kinda a bit morally grey, but it's not in a "everyone's a bit of a villain here"; there's a scene in the movie where Oracle is blackmailing a corrupt guy into double-crossing the cia for her and he's like 'you think you're so much better than me" and Oracle is like "oh, it's terribly easy to be better than you, I don't even have to be good."

Anyway the scandal is released and there are protests and justice stuff and they win. I'm not sure how the story ends for Barbara, maybe the last shot is her at the library working on her equations as if nothing had happened but with a tiny floating little smile, maybe she disappears mysteriously from everyone's life leaving a shadow and they're all wondering what she's up to now and why she left (leaving ground for a potential sequel that might never live up to the original) Dick is reflecting about how she changed his life forever and the last shot is Dinah thinking about the way she's missing the part of her soul that was whispering in her ears, etc.

The movie gets released in the theatres etc for a little less than one week before it's cancelled and forbidden forever because of some concerning similarities between the plot and some existent factories that somehow made it to the big screen without anyone noticing, however the movie is already circulating, it's all over the internet, grainy footage from the theatre, leaked bits from the director's cut (not the final cut remember), alleged snippets from the original script appearing on forums, etc. It's too late.

Idk, just- Barbara centric hacker movie. "Any similarities to real life circumstances is purely accidental" type of stuff.

[butchpeace]

hi there! thank you so much for you're response to my anon ask- i was honestly expecting you to mock me and then tell me im in a cult and am bringing down other women- which is the response i usually get when trying to ask radfem blogs things- i understand why they would say this but i am asking questions genuinely. I've looked through the medical articles linked in your page, I'll be honest it is concerning but currently I am enjoying the physical and mental changes on testosterone and dont want that to stop- obviously while paying attention to my body and working with my doctor if any issues occur. i think i'll talk about doses with my doctor to understand what options i have when i want to taper off or vaguely slow down, i hope my approach to medical transition isnt seen as aggravating or flippant this is just my general philosophy about things :) i dont know i kinda feel like crying this is kinda the first radfem space i have felt safe in?

i enjoy having a deep voice- being hairy, being flat chested and these are all things women can do-- i feel that my decisions to get a mastectomy and be on hormones to achieve this shouldnt be used to kick me out of butch spaces but maybe im just being naive 🤷

A lot of radfems have that knee jerk reaction to trans identified women. Those are the kinds of people who pushed me away from radical feminism before I transitioned, so I know how that feels!

There aren’t a lot of people who both identify with radical feminism and also have the empathy and understanding needed to help us work through our gender issues. My goal is to be the person I needed back then.

My viewpoint is that people have a wide variety of different feelings about their gender, but at its core it all comes down to the same thing: The inability to accept our bodies as they are.

That’s something butch women particularly have been dealing with for a very long time. Of course butches want to be more masculine. Why wouldn’t we? We live in a patriarchy, and physical masculinity and androgyny is considered attractive in butches.

But my opinion is that accepting our bodies as they are should be the ultimate goal, and that messing with our hormonal systems and having cosmetic surgeries is objectively a negative thing. Not just because of health risks, but also because it’s a way of rejecting femaleness. I believe that all forms of rejecting the female aspects of our bodies come from misogyny. Because of that, giving in to the pressure to change our bodies isn’t a positive thing in the big picture, even if it makes us feel subjectively better about ourselves.

But I feel that way about all cosmetic surgery, including botox and all the other things women do to alter themselves. I don’t think that the way we’ve altered ourselves is any different from what they’re doing. I’m against all of it, but I don’t see us as the problem, I see patriarchy as the problem.

Whether radfems agree with it or not, the fact is that many butch women have taken hormones and have had mastectomies, and we are still women. Testosterone and mastectomies are so widespread among butch women these days that it’s kinda just part of who we are at this point. That doesn’t mean it’s a good thing or that it should be encouraged, and people have the right to criticize it. But we should be accepted.

Our appearances are altered but that doesn’t change who we are, and it doesn’t change the fact that we need community and a sense of belonging.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 21 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary - you and Spencer both make decisions you can’t come back from.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - past sexual abuse of a child, swearing, tears, murder, cheating, brief mention of oral (f receiving), vomit, pregnancy symptoms, double crossing, blood, stab wounds, death of a father, bruises, aggression, use of “whore”.

WC - 5.8k

Chapter 21 - Miss Mysterious

The clock on the wall chimed twelve times in quick succession, echoing around the otherwise silent room. Spencer sat on the edge of the coffee table, the SIG still pointed at his father, who hadn’t moved from the armchair. 

He didn’t know what he was so hesitant about, he could have easily killed him by now and been out of the house and on his way back to Caesars but something was stopping him. 

Did he want an explanation? And even if he got one, nothing in the world could excuse what his dad had done to him or anyone else. His dad was a sick and twisted person who had abused his own son’s trust and ripped little pieces of his soul away every single time he crawled into his bed in the middle of the night. 

His fathers actions had affected him in more ways than he’d ever even realised. Of course there was the obvious, his building of walls, his inability to get close to people. It had taken until he was twenty six before he was intimate with a woman for the first time. And he’d shut himself in the bathroom afterwards and cried and it was a long time before sex didn’t make him that emotional. 

It had later manifested itself in his dominance in the bedroom. You weren’t the first person he’d treated that way in bed, it had become a pattern for him. He had to take back his power by being in control and never submitting to anyone else in that way again. In doing so he was able to harness his emotions afterwards and not have to indulge in a post-coital sob. 

But there were repercussions from his fathers abuse in which he had never really noticed until now. When he’d finally been pushed over the edge to kill, every single man he had ended the life of was simply a surrogate. Each one was around his father’s age, all violent and evil human beings. Each man was a substitute for the real target of his rage. A rage he hadn’t realised had been building for over thirty years until right now. 

William Reid was Spencer’s ultimate boogeyman, the monster lurking in every shadow. He was Spencer’s Goliath and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to slay him. He just had to focus and not let himself get dragged down this dark rabbit hole. But it may be too late. 

He could still hear the sound of a zipper cutting through his mind in that room that was supposed to be his place of solace. He could see his fathers manic eyes as they loomed over him in the darkness. He could feel those rough hands all over his body and hear his own cries which his father simply ignored.

Daddy, please! You don’t have to do this. 

He felt his hand shaking as he held the gun, hot tears pooling behind his eyes. He sniffed them back, not willing to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him cry again. He clenched his jaw firmly, grinding his teeth in a furious fashion and sat forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“You ruined my life.” Spencer croaked, his voice so unlike himself.

“I made you stronger.” William countered, narrowing his eyes on Spencer. “I was teaching you how to be a man.”

“Oh yeah? And how is that?” Spencer’s brows furrowed in angry confusion.

“You were so weak, pathetic, really. You never would have been able to take care of yourself. I was showing you the harsh realities of the world, you needed to learn that to get by in this life you have to be strong, grow a thick skin. I helped you.” William shrugged.

“Helped me?” Spencer spat, hand shaking violently. “You think molesting me helped me?” 

“That’s such an ugly word, Spencer.” William rolled his eyes. “But yes.”

“You’re full of shit.” Spencer jumped to his feet, proffering the SIG closer to his dad. “Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night? That you fucking helped me? What about the other’s? Did you help them too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” William shrugged again. 

“Cut the crap, dad. I know there were other boys. A sexual predator doesn’t just stop unless someone stops him.” 

William slowly pushed himself up with the use of the arms of the chair. He was shorter than Spencer by a few inches, he’d gotten his height from his mother. Thankfully he’d gotten most things from his mom and not this man in front of him. 

“Let’s not talk about the others, Spencer.” William smiled at him. “You were the only one I cared about.” 

“Fuck you.” Spencer sniffed again as his eyes welled with tears once more. “You didn’t care about me. If you cared about me you wouldn’t have done what you did. I’m your son for fuck sake! You were supposed to keep me safe from monsters, not be one.”

“Of course I cared about you. I love you, Spencer.” William raised one arm and moved to stroke the side of Spencer’s face but Spencer quickly slapped him away with his free hand.

William, although frail looking, was fast and managed to grab Spencer by the wrist and circle his fingers around it. He noticed his dad’s eyes cast down to the silver band on his finger before looking back up to meet his eyes. 

“You’re married?” William frowned. 

“Yes.” Spencer tugged his arm free of his dad’s hold. 

“Does she know what you really are?” A smirk tugged at the older man’s lips. 

“She knows I’m a murderer.” Spencer spat, proffering the gun closer again. “I’ve killed multiple men just like you, the scum of the earth who need to pay for their crimes. And she loves me for it. She respects me for it.” 

“And let me guess, it's my fault you turned out this way?” William sighed as if he was bored. 

“Who else's fault would it be?” 

“Your wack job mother, perhaps? How many times did you witness her being violent towards me when you were young?” 

“I’m sure it wasn’t anything you didn’t deserve. And seeing my mom lash out from time to time when she didn’t take her meds and having my father sexually abuse me are two very different things!” Spencer raised his voice, spitall flying from his mouth in rage. 

“You got all your worst traits from her, you know?” William kept his cool. “Volatile, over dramatic. It’s a shame you didn’t turn out more like me.” 

“I’ll never be anything like you.” Spencer straightened his back, tried to rein himself in.

“Oh Spencer, you're already so much more like me than you realise.” William chuckled darkly and it made Spencer’s stomach turn. 

“That’s not true.” Spencer shook his head.

“I’m going to let you in on a little secret.” William stepped closer to him and Spencer should have just shot him but he didn’t. He let his father come close to his ear and he closed his eyes when he felt the older man's breath against his face. “I killed Riley Jenkins.” 

Spencer stumbled on his feet, feeling his stomach somersaulting wildly and he briefly worried he might throw up. His father was cackling maniacally at the look on his son's face.

“No, that’s not true.” Spencer lowered the gun without meaning to. 

“The truth is Riley had more guts than you and he was going to tell his father what I did to him. So I had to kill him.” William didn’t show a hint of remorse for his actions, in fact he looked proud of himself. “So if you kill me, you’re only proving my point that you’re just like me.”

“No.” Spencer’s tears wouldn’t stay contained anymore and they started to fall. “No, I’m nothing like you.” 

“Put the gun down and walk away, son. Prove you’re not like me” William smirked at him.

“I…I can’t.” Spencer shook his head frantically. 

“Spencer,” William suddenly turned stern. “Put the gun down and walk away.”

“N-no.” Spencer’s lip quivered.

William exhaled loudly and before Spencer knew what was happening, his father advanced on him, managing to free the gun from Spencer’s hand before Spencer even saw him coming. With his other hand he swiftly punched Spencer in the stomach and when his son doubled over in pain from the blow, he grabbed him by the hair, tugged him one way and then shoved him to the floor. 

Spencer groaned as he hit the carpet but noted the knife hadn’t dislodged from his waistband. His father stood over him, pointing his own gun down at him and looking at him in frustration. 

“I don’t want to kill you, Spencer. But if the choice is between me and you then I will not hesitate in pulling this trigger.” William spat.

Spencer rolled onto his back, making sure the blade stayed concealed from his fathers vision. It was his only way out of this, he needed the element of surprise on his side. He just had to work out how to unsheath it and get one up on his dad before the other man got off a shot. 

“You want to kill me, go ahead.” Spencer shrugged, tears still silently rolling down his cheeks. “You’ve already taken everything from me, I kind of wish you’d killed me when I was a kid so I didn’t have to live with the memories of what you did to me. So just do it. Put me out of my misery.”

William swallowed, lifting his arm a little and aiming the muzzle right at Spencer’s skull. His hands were steady, tightly wrapped around the butt of the SIG and looking like he may well actually shoot Spencer and probably sleep easy afterwards. 

If Spencer didn’t act fast he was as good as dead. But he refused to let it end this way, at the hands of his abuser. He had to formulate a plan and enact it to perfection or he would die on this shitty carpet, in this crappy house and the last thing he would have seen would be the eyes of the man who molested him.

***

At some point you probably should have stopped to think about Spencer but honestly, he was the furthest thing from your mind. Not even your wedding band could distract from the intense pleasure that Jesse was bestowing upon you, quite frankly you could barely remember your own name. 

You’d lost count of how many times you’d imagined what his beard would feel like between your legs and tonight you’d finally been privy to it. The friction from his rough facial hair made the experience even more incredible than any other time you’d ever been eaten out before, and you found yourself grinding against his face to feel more of it.

He made you come with complete ease, as though he wasn’t even trying and when he sat back and wiped his hand over his mouth he was smiling sinfully at you.

“Jesus Christ.” You panted, still slightly writhing on the couch beneath him. 

“That’s half the reason I keep the beard.” He chuckled, laying down on top of you.

“What’s the other half?” You wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“How good it makes me look.” He kissed you again and you tasted yourself on his lips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and using one hand to pop the button on his jeans. You were both still fully dressed, too desperate for each other to think about undressing. But you wanted to see more of him, if this was the last chance you got to be with him, you needed to commit him to memory. 

As if reading your mind, whilst you worked on shimming his pants down to his thighs he made quick work of getting his shirt off. You pulled him back closer to you, nestling him between your legs and your hands starting to graze over the tattoo on his peck.  

But then your stomach suddenly lurched in a way you’d gotten all too used to recently and suddenly you were shoving him away and jumping to your feet. 

Jesse fell back to the couch, staring at the back of your head as you sprinted to the bathroom. He heard the toilet seat being lifted and moments later the sound of you retching reached his ears. 

He pulled a face, tucking himself away as he got to his feet, cautiously following in your tracks. He found you kneeling over the toilet seat, head in the basin while you violently vomited. 

“Are you ok?” He approached you, sitting down on the edge of the bath and stroking your back. 

“Hmm.” You grumbled, sitting back once you expelled yourself and wiping your mouth. “That’s been happening a lot lately. It’s nothing to do with you, I swear.” 

“I should hope not.” He laughed, rubbing circles between your shoulder blades. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” You frowned up at him. 

“You’re pregnant right?” He frowned back at you. 

“No?” You shuffled backwards out of his touch. 

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Sorry, with the vomiting I just assumed. And I don’t mean this in the completely perverted way it’s going to sound, but I haven’t even seen you shirtless tonight and I can tell your breasts are huge. Bigger than I remember and I remember them pretty well.” 

“I…I don’t even know what to say to that.” You glanced down at your chest where your dress was stained with the drink you’d spilled. 

“Have you had any other signs? Urinating more regularly? Strange cravings or aversions to things?” He asked with a soft smile. 

You felt the colour drain from your face, feeling like you could throw up again. The signs had been there staring you in the face and you’d ignored them. But surely you couldn’t be? 

“I, uh, maybe? No. I don’t know.” You pushed yourself up to your feet. 

“When was the last time you had a period?” Jesse stood as well. 

“Too personal.” You shook your head with a groan. 

“Y/N, come on.” He cocked his eyebrow at you. 

“I don’t know.” You pinched the bridge of your nose. “They’ve never been all that reliable and I have been pretty stressed recently. There is no way, I cannot be pregnant.” 

“I should probably go.” Jesse smiled sadly at you. “This was a really bad idea, wasn’t it?”

“It certainly wasn’t a good idea.” You felt your eyes welling with tears although you didn’t know why. “I’m so sorry. I wish he didn’t have this hold over me.” 

“It’s called love, Y/N.” Jesse tucked your hair behind your ear. “You love him and you shouldn’t apologise for that.” 

“Maybe I don’t? I don’t know.” You shook your head. 

“Answer me something,” Jesse folded his arms over his still bare chest. “You killed Mary because she was threatening him.”

“That’s not a question.” 

“No, I know.” He chuckled lightly. “My question is: would you have done that for anyone else? For example, would you have killed her if she was threatening me?” 

“No.” You didn’t hesitate. “No I wouldn’t have.” 

“And that’s because you love him.” Jesse shrugged. 

“But loving him makes me feel like such an idiot.”

“Now you know how I feel.” He smiled wistfully at you. “I really should go before he comes back. How long are you in town for?” 

“Just tonight, I think.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. 

“Far to travel?”

“I’m not falling into that trap.” You smirked at him. 

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He laughed. “Stay safe, Y/N. And if you are pregnant, good luck. For what it’s worth I think you’d make a great mom.” 

“Did you forget the part where I confessed to murder?” You frowned at him. 

“We all make mistakes.” He started walking backwards towards the door. “Take me for example, I was about to sleep with a married and potentially pregnant woman.” 

You followed him out into the living room and smiled to yourself as you got a great eye full of his ass, even if it was inside his jeans, as he bent down to pick up his shirt. You made sure to commit that to memory. 

You watched him put the shirt back ok, also trying to memorise every one of those tattoos adorned his body. He sidled closer to you again and cupped your face gently in his hands. 

“We can’t keep meeting in bars, Y/N.” He chuckled lightly. “It has to be goodbye this time.” 

“I still think you followed me here.” You teased him and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“You wish.” He chuckled, reluctantly letting go of your face. 

He took a few steps backwards towards the suite door and you had to force yourself not to follow him. He gave you a sad half-smile as he exhaled heavily and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor.

“See ya, I guess.” You shrugged, once again wrapping your arms around yourself. 

“That’s you’re parting words to me? See ya, I guess?” He chuckled with a shake of his head. 

“What do you want me to say?” You laughed. 

“What I want you to say and what you can actually say are two very different things.” He rubbed his beard. “So let’s leave it at, see ya, I guess.” 

With that he offered you a wave and reached for the door handle, closing it behind himself. And just like he was gone. 

You stumbled over to the couch and collapsed onto it, your head spinning with the evening's activities. You’d really fucked up this time. Being with Jesse back in Butte was ok because you and Spencer hadn’t really been married. But now you were married and you’d let yourself get caught up in Jesse once more. 

Maybe in a way Spencer deserved it for the way he’d treated you in the past. You’d blindly followed him only for him to treat you like dirt. Sure things had been better lately but you never knew where you stood with him and truthfully, you weren’t sure if you felt safe with him. 

And what the fuck happened if Jesse was right and you were actually pregnant? Bringing a baby into this messed up situation, to be raised by two killers? That didn’t even bear thinking about. 

He had to be wrong. There was no way you could be. You were on the pill…

…fuck. 

You were on the pill. Right up until Spencer had talked you into leaving DC and you’d left your contraceptive behind in your hurry to leave. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

***

Jesse McGill took the elevator down to the ground floor and found a quiet area in the lobby before pulling out his cell phone. He ran his hand over his beard with a large sigh, a wave of emotions crashing down around him. 

He gnawed frantically on his lip as he pulled up the number he’d received a call from yesterday and then held it to his ear. It was answered on the third ring. 

“Did you do it?” The hurried voice came down the line. 

“I did what you asked. I saw her but I didn’t see Spencer and she didn’t say where he was.” Jesse sighed, he didn’t feel good about this at all. 

“Did you ask her about Mary?” 

“Yes.” 

“And?” 

Jesse closed his eyes. He had two options here but he had no idea which was the best one. He could lie and say you wouldn’t tell him anything about what happened to Mary, which wouldn’t be completely unexpected. He could tell the truth, tell them that you confessed to killing her but you wouldn’t give up where the body was buried. 

Or, he could go with option number three. He could tell a combination of the truth and a lie. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled loudly wondering how the hell he’d gotten himself into this situation in the first place. 

“Well? What did she say?” The voice came again, impatience riddled in their tone. 

“Mary’s dead.” Jesse opened his eyes again, making his decision as he spoke. “Spencer killed her.” 

“Goddamnit. I knew it!” The other man growled, slamming something loudly and causing an echo down the phone. “Did she say anything else?”

“No. She told me the body was buried somewhere it would never be found. Apparently Mary was blackmailing Spencer and he just-”

“I don’t care why he did it.” The man scoffed. “And she didn’t give you any indication of where they’re living or anything like that?” 

“No, I tried, I really tried. But she’s not stupid.” Jesse pushed his back up against the wall, eyes fluttering between people entering and leaving Caesars. 

“You know you did the right thing, Jesse? I know you probably don’t feel good about this, but you did the right thing. It’s not her we want, it’s Spencer. I’ll make sure she’s protected.” 

“I know, but it feels fucking rotten.” Jesse sighed again. “What happens now?”

“That’s not for you to worry about. We’ve got this from here. Get a room for the night, it’s late, catch a flight home tomorrow. Let me know how much they cost and I’ll ensure you get reimbursed.” 

“I don’t care about that.” Jess shook his head. “I liked her and I feel like I’ve betrayed her.” 

“You did the right thing.” The voice repeated. “I promise I only want what’s best for her. And that’s to get her away from Spencer. You’ve been a huge help. Thanks again Jesse.” 

Jesse hated being a part of this, depised that he’d been dragged into this fucked up mess. He’d meant it when he told you he loved you which only made this harder. But they say if you love someone you have to let them go, if they return they were always yours and if they don’t, they never were. 

He knew exactly which one you were. 

“Agent Alvez?” Jesse blurted out. He closed his eyes as if it might somehow relieve his guilt before he spoke again. “There is one more thing you should know…”

***

Spencer leant against the wall in the elevator as it made its ascent, staring at the closed metal doors while he tried to piece his night back together. 

Everything that happened after his dad shoved him to the floor and took his gun was a blur. His stomach ached, he wouldn’t be surprised if his father had left him with a nasty bruise. His fist had clipped him right in the steadily healing scar from the knife wound you'd inflicted on him months ago. 

He remembered the pain, he remembered trying to think of a way to free the knife from the back of his pants. But it was like at some point he blacked out because the next thing he knew he was standing over his fathers dead body covered in blood. 

He’d counted forty three stab wounds in his fathers torso, sliced like Swiss cheese and damn near eviscerated. The man who had molested him, his biggest demon was dead. And the most poetically tragic part was that Spencer didn’t remember killing him. 

Maybe the haze would clear and over time he’d be able to piece the events back together. It was possible his brain was trying to protect him from the trauma of recollecting the murder of his father, but if it had safeguarded him from the memories of being eight years old, there wouldn’t have been the need to kill William in the first place. 

He’d cleaned up the crime scene, the messiest one he’d ever had to face due to the amount of blood that wept from those forty three wounds. He put his fathers body in the trunk of the Impala and found a sweater in the backseat which was lucky given the amount of blood on his hoodie. 

He stood in his fathers bathroom and stared at his reflection. His face and neck were splattered in the red sticky substance and his hands were almost entirely covered. He cleaned himself off the best he could and before he knew it he was driving away from the house. 

He stumbled through the lobby of Caesars as if he were drunk, his brain felt that kind of intoxicated haze too. He made it up to his floor and slotted his key in the door. In all honesty, after the events of the night, he completely forgot you’d be there. So when he shoved up the door and found you sitting on the couch in the suite, he had to blink a few times as he tried to piece back moments from earlier in the day. 

You pushed yourself to your feet, taking a few steps towards Spencer, your brows furrowed at his obvious confusion. 

“You ok?” You didn’t come too close, you were wary of him. 

“Uh, yeah.” He swallowed before clearing his throat. “Yeah I think so.” 

“You’ve been gone for hours.” You rolled your lips between your teeth. 

“I have?” He rubbed one of his eyes. 

“Are you drunk?” 

“No, no. Not drunk. Tired, maybe?” He questioned himself. “I should probably…I don’t know, sleep or something.” 

He started in your direction and moved past you and as he did so you caught the familiar smell of blood. That coupled with the tiny red drop you’d noticed on the side of his neck confirmed your theory about where he’d been.

“Did you get your phone?” You asked as he passed you. 

He turned back to you, squinting a little, clearly confused. 

“Uh…” he swallowed again. “Sure.” 

“Spencer?” You folded your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah?” 

“Who’d you kill?” 

He closed his eyes, inhaling sharply through his nose. He should have known you’d see right through him. 

“No one. It’s nothing.” He mumbled, opening his eyes again. 

“You have blood on your neck. And I’m pretty certain if you took your sweater off your shirt would be covered in blood.” You took another step forward. “Who’d you kill?” 

He sighed over dramatically, by way of telling you he didn’t want to be having this conversation. He rubbed his eyes, subsequently helping to clear the daze he’d been in and looked at you curiously, as though it was his first time seeing you. You noticed his eyes flick to your bicep and you followed his gaze, only then realising your mistake. 

You involuntarily raised your other hand and placed it over the flashing beacon that had been left behind on your arm, a symbol of your infidelity. 

“What have you done to your arm?” He grinded his teeth, loud enough that you could hear it. 

“I must have, uh, walked into something I guess.” 

“No. Nuh uh.” He shook his head, advancing on you and roughly tugging your hand away from the array of bruises around your bicep. “Try again.” 

“I don’t know where they came from.” You whimpered. 

“You’re lying.” He spat. “I’ve left enough bruises on you to know they are from someone’s fingers.” 

He wrapped his own hand around your arm just lower than where the red mark was adorned on your skin. 

“I guess you must have done it then. We did have sex earlier.” 

“No.” He shook his head. “That wasn’t me. Who the fuck did this to you?” 

“N-no one.” You chewed heavily on your lip, teeth digging deeply into the flesh. 

“No one? So you’re just magically producing bruises?” He snarled at you. 

“No.” You pouted. “Stop changing the subject. Who’s blood is on you?” 

“Who gave you these bruises?” He countered, still holding your arm. 

“Who did you kill?”

“Who hurt you?” 

You were at a stalemate, glaring at each other wildly, neither one of you wanting to admit the truth to the other. You’d rather he hurt you than admit that you’d cheated on him. And he’d rather die than tell you about what his father had done to him.

He suddenly let go of your arm and huffed loudly, stepping backwards and raking his fingers through his hair. 

“What are you keeping from me?” He mumbled as if talking to himself. 

“We all have secrets, Spencer.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “You more so than anyone. So you don’t get to be angry at me if I choose not to tell you everything.” 

He glared at you, rage filled eyes scrutinising you in a way he’d never looked at you both. 

“Who the fuck even are you?” He shook his head. “I don’t even recognise what you’ve become.” 

“Me?” You spat. “Whatever I’ve become you turned me into!” 

“I made you!” He growled. “And this is how you repay me? Lying to me and keeping secrets?” 

“What can I say? I learnt from the best!” Your anger rose rapidly. “I should have known you were lying to me tonight. You butter me up with up sex and leave me here alone while you go out and kill even though I’ve proven to you time and time again that you can trust me! So yeah I went downstairs to the bar and I thought, hey, if my husband doesn’t want to spend time with me, maybe someone else will.” 

“You did what?” He snapped, suddenly grabbing you roughly by both arms and pushing you back against the nearest wall. “You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

“What if I did?” You snarled, refusing to show your fear. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

“Who was he? I’ll fucking kill him!” He slammed you into the wall. 

“You’ll do no such thing.” 

“I cant fucking believe you! How could you do that to me? I married you! And now you’re picking up random men in bars? Have some self respect!” He was really close to your face and the metallic smell was overwhelming. 

“Since day one in this relationship you have done whatever you want to do and not given me a second thought. Why should I give your feelings any consideration when you give mine none? You just hate that I’ve grown a fucking back bone!” You fought against him but he was stronger.

“You think cheating on your husband is the same as my trying to protect you from what I’m doing?” 

“Project me? Oh please.” You scoffed. “I have killed three people Spencer, I don’t need protecting.” 

“Who was he?” He asked again, slamming you into the wall once more. “Or did you even stop to get his name before you spread your legs for him?” 

“Fuck you!” You screamed in his face.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you little whore. What kind of man fucks a married woman? A married woman he just picked up in a bar who he doesn’t even know? It actually says more about the man himself than you.”

“Fuck you!” You repeated, louder this time. “Jesse is twice the man you’ll ever be!” 

It was a complete slip of the tongue. You didn’t think you meant to implicate Jesse in that way but your rage had taken over. 

Spencer suddenly softened and his hands fell from your arms to his sides and he stumbled backwards like you’d punched him in the gut. He blinked at you as you kept yourself pressed against the wall.

“Jesse?” He croaked. “As in that fucking mountain man? He was here? You and him…? You really know how to fucking hurt me, don’t you?” 

He fell back to the couch and put his head in his hands. He thought you loved him, he thought he knew you. Maybe it was all an act that he’d fallen for hook, line and sinker. Maybe he’d never really known you, maybe he never would. Maybe you’d been on completely different pages all along. 

When had your heart ceased to beat for him, when had it turned numb? He loved you with every fibre of his being but perhaps it was time he let you go. 

Because as he looked at you now, he had no idea who you were. Behind your eyes you were a perfect stranger disguised as the woman he loved. You were nothing more than a mysterious effigy of the heart you’d broken. 

Miss Mysterious, who are you?

Who's the girl behind those eyes? Just a stranger in disguise?

Miss Mysterious, who could you be?

Where's the ghost of what we had? Did you erase it from your past?

Oh, so I pointed in every direction,

Oh well, looking for answers I'll never know.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

Miss Mysterious, may I ask:

Is your sunshine like my rain? Is your pleasure like my pain?

So delirious, casting your stones,

With the blood fall to my face,

Hoping that you'll lose your aim.

Oh, well it looks so bright with the lights out,

Oh well, I guess our stars forgot how to glow.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

No baby you, you broke my heart,

Now how do I get closure when you're only ever closed off?

Tell me who could take your place?

When these memories are telling me,

That we were not always,

Now don't even try to tell me that I should just relax,

And we're not strangled and over the tracks.

I tried to reach, I stretch out my hand but you turned around instead,

So many nights living inside just to connect with you.

Now I'm trying hard to win this but we've lost all we can lose,

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right?

The saying goes "if you love someone let them go".

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

Or let me know when your heart went numb.

I said go, run for your life, and tell me I'm right,

The saying goes "if you love someone".

Said if you love someone,

Now if you love someone,

Let them go.

Let them go.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom @nomajdetective @rebelliousstories

[parkerdoeswriting]

Not Allowed

(TASM! Peter x GN Reader)

category: angst > fluff blurb

summary: reader is having issues with their mom, peter is there for them. 

warnings: family issues (specifically mum issues), cringe vent fanfic, very specific to my life so if you relate i feel sorry for you LMAOOO

word count: 0.5k

A/N: This is kinda a VERY cringey vent post🤩 not doing good cuz MY MUM is driving me up the walls with her favouritism of my brothers and her inability to let me live my life! 

Knock knock knock… 

Peter’s ears perk up at the noise, instantly getting up. He had been home alone after Aunt May went out with some of her friends, and they both weren’t expecting company. He quickly descends down the stairs, checking the peephole before opening. He doesn’t see anyone and so he opens, wondering if they got mail. But when he opens the door, he isn’t expecting what he sees. 

You’re sitting on the Parker’s front porch steps, your hands buried into the palm of  your hands as you cry. His eyes widen at the sight of you, automatically going into comfort mode.

“Babe, you okay?” he sits next to you, his arms instinctively wrapping around you. 

You shake your head, his hands still holding your face. He rests his chin on your shoulder and he presses chaste kisses to your temple, trying to comfort you. 

“Sorry” You weep softly, wiping my eyes. 

You look at him, your eyes red as your lip quivers. Your face is red from embarrassment, your hands shaking as you try to stop crying.

“Don’t be sorry, let's go inside and talk, alright?” he speaks softly, cupping your cheek with his hands. 

You nod slowly, his hands going from your cheek to your hands, pulling you up. He leads you inside, heading to the living room, his hand never once letting go of yours. You both sit down on the couch, wrapping a blanket around the two of you. He turns on your favourite movie, waiting for your words to start falling out.

“Well, my mum, she’s just been so mean?” you sniffle, cuddling up to him.

“She’s been totally inconsiderate that this is my life and I don’t want to “fit in” with everyone.” you add, biting the inside of your mouth. 

“I just wish she could understand I don’t wanna be a carbon copy of her, and that I'd like to do things, to learn different things!” you bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them to your body. 

“I’m sorry” he frowns, pressing chaste kisses to your face. 

“It’s whatever, I dunno” you wipe your eyes again. 

“Have you tried talking to her about it?” he asks softly, his hands going up to play with your hair.

“Yeah, and everytime she completely misses the point and discredits my feelings every time!” you exclaim, your fists balling in frustration.

You can see his mouth curling into a frown as he tries to think of something to say, his hands pull you closer to him, your face contorts as you try not to cry again. 

“I’m sorry, I’m probably oversharing or whatever” you try to back away from his grip, putting on your half assed poker face. 

“No, come back” he frowns, grasping onto your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. 

He manages to pull you back despite your best efforts, screw having a superhero as a boyfriend. His legs wrap around you, trapping you in as he attacks your face with kisses.

“I’m sorry your mum is treating you like this, you don’t deserve that” he says in between kisses. 

“I just want her to be supportive of me” you sniffle, your eyes all teary. 

“I know, just know I’ll love you no matter what and you can always talk to me about anything” his face resting in the crook of your neck.  “Thanks babe” your head leans against him.

[lovelylotusf1]

loved the second chapter of sweet kitten ahh! i would love to see or hear about charles’ perspective and just how mean he REALLLYYY wanted to be if you ever feel so inclined to chat abt it!

Thank youuu, so happy you enjoyed it <3

Honestly, the only thing holding sweet kitten!Charles back is my inability to figure out where exactly the line between “dom/sub undertones”, “light dom/sub” and “dom/sub” is and just keeping everything as light as possible cause I didn't want to retag it :((

I feel like Charles wants to coax every possible expression out of Max, and if the only option to do it is by making sure Max isn't thinking about anything else but him, then by god will he take that option. It's less about the power dynamic of dom/sub for me, but rather how possessive and obsessed lestappen are with each other. I could see them talking about subspace (read: Charles bringing up the idea and cornering Max about it until he's finally ready to talk), purely because Charles wants to burn the image of Max all spaced out behind his eyes forever. And if Max starts crying out of pleasure, than that's an added bonus for him👀

I saw an ask game going around, where an option was to flip-flop a scene, so here you go anon! A tiny snippet of chapter 2 written from Charles’ perspective as a bonus :D Obvious nsfw under the cut.

“On your side,” Charles orders, his voice leaving no room for compromises.

“What are you going to do?” Max asks quietly, and his voice wavers, an unstable little thing. Delight curses through Charles’ veins at the reaction. He wants to bottle up those sounds so he can replay them all the time, the confident Max Verstappen reduced to a sweet kitty just by pushing a few of his buttons.

Before Charles can answer, Max gets up, wincing slightly.

Poor kitten. Kneeling for so long must have been horribly uncomfortable. Maybe he should have kept him on his knees for longer, just to see if Max would have complained eventually.

He doesn't know which outcome he would like to see more. Telling Max to close his eyes and stick his tongue out, patiently waiting for something that never comes, a fiery blush on his face. Or seeing the brat he knows is in there rise to the surface, trying to intimidate Charles with angry words that sound more like angry hisses from a kitten than being actually frightening. Maybe trying out a few punishments until Max becomes a blubbering mess, just because he can.

Charles' list of things he wants to do to Max keeps getting longer and longer.

But for now, he smiles and makes sure that the threat beneath it is visible. “I can’t fuck you, so I will simply fuck your pretty thighs instead. And you are not allowed to touch me or yourself. You either come because I let you, or not at all, baby.”

Max gapes at him like a fish out of water. Charles simply raises an eyebrow in response, keeping his mouth in a neutral line despite how much the grin on his face wants to form.

With a fresh rush of heat on his cheeks that makes him positively glow, Max slowly lies down on his side, facing the wall.

The sight of him lying there, embarrassed but still obedient, does horrible things to Charles. Makes him want to keep Max naked forever, collar and cat ears the only thing he's allowed to wear. Makes him desperate to figure out if the blush that's on his face and neck can go even further if he just keeps him worked up long enough.

The image of Max's flushed skin covered in hickeys and bruises enters his mind unbiddenly, and Charles bites his bottom lip so hard he almost draws blood. He wonders how long he could get away with toying with Max. Leave him aching and begging for Charles to touch him, and simply refusing it. Maybe Max will start crying if Charles doesn't let him come for hours.

Charles shakes his head to clear the thoughts. He must look ridiculous, but Max can't see him like this, so he doesn't care about his appearance for once.

He already has a plan laid out for today. There will be plenty more opportunities to drive Max crazy.

[sweetcreatxr]

♥︎ Always been you ♥︎

✰ Part 1. If the world was ending ✰

Chris Evans X singer!male reader (29)

⚠︎ Warning : angst, sebastian being the best big brother (???), Feels talk, post break up, Drunk Chris and sad Y/n ( these are not really Warnings but we never know !)

A/N : ♡︎ ok so first of, this is my second time writing in English because I'm French so pls if there are any spelling errors don't insult me or anything else pls ! I'll try to do my best ! シ︎

Part 2 !

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Pov y/n third person

Y/n was sitting, arms crossed and cross-legged on the edge of the stage where he was going to perform in less than three hours.

His fingers rapidly tapping on his phone and his furrowed brow showed his anxiety and inability to stay calm.

Sebastian, who had promised to be present and who was sitting in the same place as his brother, noticed that he was not well and came to hug him.

"Shuuuu it will be fine y/n, I'm sure he's mad at himself as we speak, he's just an idiot but an idiot madly in love with you."

Y/n was crying in his big brother's arms, his emotions having taken over everything else.

He had been in a relationship with the one and only Chris Evans who happened to be one of his brother's best friends.

They had met during the filming of the first Captain America in June 2010 and the two men had quickly created a strong bond despite their age differences.

It wasn't until 2014 that their relationship became official worldwide, making Chris the happiest man in the world by his side.

"You guys are meant to be together, this breakup is only a painful passage. I'm sure of it! You're like mussels and fries, one will be never be without the other!"

Y/n chuckled lightly, amused by the sort of joke his brother had tried to pull off to cheer him up. But the breakup with Chris came back to him just as quickly and he started crying again but this time he got up and stood in front of Sebastian who was looking at him with a sad smile.

" Seb Chris has been ignoring my messages for more than 5 months, my calls yet he sees them but he doesn't do anything about it! He acts as if he and I never existed when we've been together for more than 8 years! 8 fucking years!"

He stopped to catch his breath and immediately continued

"We had plans! We wanted to build a family, get married too! But damn it I can't take it anymore, I'm tired! We left each other for bullshit , just because of a fucking misunderstanding seb, a misunderstanding...."

He finished his sentence while trying himself on the ground and folding his knees on his chest.

"I love him so much if you knew, I could die for this man and he doesn't give a damn about it"

" what are you saying y/n, he's also at his worst, he loves you mad too, you are everything to him!"

Y/n took his phone and put it in brother's face before returning to his initial position.

It was Chris' Instagram where you could see that he was in a nightclub surrounded by several girls and guys who danced with him and some who touched him.

" It doesn't look like he's at his lowest, he seems to have endless fun, it's like he was just waiting for this..."

There was jealousy in his voice as well as sadness, a lot of sadness. How could Chris forget 8 years of a relationship in just 5 months?

" I'm going to go talk to him, okay?! I'm gonna ring him and bring him back to you, I'm gonna go now and wave to me when the show starts, I don't want to miss your entrance!"

Sebastian walked towards the exit of the performance hall leaving a tired, sad and angry y/n.

POV Chris third person

Chris was currently sitting on the edge of the sidewalk which was loosening on an establishment in which music could be heard at miles, cigarette in hand, heavy heart and breathless.

He only smoked on rare occasions, breaking up with the person he considered and considers the love of his life, being an excellent one according to Chris.

He had no idea how he ended up there, unhappy and alone when he could have been in the arms of his lover. His own brain refused to function properly, only remnants of their argument came back to him.

"Are you kidding me or what?"

"You're so naive y/n"

"Chris stop it, I fucking love you! You have nothing to fear!"

"Liar! Don't pretend you didn't notice!"

"Chris I don't know in what language I have to tell you again but NOTHING HAPPENED BETWEEN HIM AND ME! He's just a friend!!"

While Y/n was climbing the stairs to take refuge in their shared room, Chris spoke again and it is exactly THESE words that he will regret for the rest of his life.

"That's it ! Run away! That's all you know how to do anyway! And while you're at it, WHY NOT GO AND MASTURBATE EACH OTHER THROUGH YOUR PHONES AND SPREAD YOUR LEGS LIKE THE WHORE YOU ARE !"

Y/n had turned around, his face filled with tears, deeply shocked by what his boyfriend had just thrown in his own face.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF CHRISTOPHER AND I SINCERELY MEAN IT !"

His brain not allowing him to hear the other words spoken by him as they were so violent Chris then remembers leaving their house, for a walk refresh one's mind.

He ended up heading to Scott's house, his brother, without telling him about their big fight. He first didn't want to blame himself but Scott's accusing face and Sebastian's threats (being his best friend and his ex-almost-brother-in-law) had made him realize that it was entirely his fault.

But being stubborn and proud as he was, it was impossible for him to return home. Chris stayed for more than 4 months with his brother, not finding the strength to return home, being alone, knowing Y/n on world tour, he didn't know exactly what city he was in, but he knew he was still in the US.

Chris didn't have time to think more that his phone rang, displaying the name of his best friend: Sebastian.

But Sebastian was above all his lover's big brother and he knew that this one was the reason why Seb was calling. He hesitated all the same, not wanting to be scolded even if he thought he deserved it.

"Ha-hallo?"

"Chris, damn finally I've been trying to reach you for days ! You better explain to me what went through your head to do such a crap"

Chris knew that Sebastian was referring to his argument with Y/n but he didn't have the courage to express himself.

"I-I"

Before he could formulate an apologetic sentence, sebastian cut him off.

"You know what? I don't even want to know, get your ass back here and quickly. According to your geo-location you're only 1 hour away so be quick!"

"But I don't know where you are..."

"You'll find out by yourself like a big boy, and by the way, sober up before you come, you smell alcohol even through the phone...bye!"

Chris sighed and got up trying not to stumble, he had only assimilated half of his best friend's words but he was sure of one thing: he wanted to fix things with Y/n and returned to the course of their peaceful life, loving each other madly.

He walked to his car which was parked not far from the club where he had spent the night drinking and smoking endlessly.

Taking the road drunk was certainly a bad idea, that's why before taking the road he asked a barman for $100 to pass him some ice cubes, the barman complied without asking him for anything. It wasn't every day that a celebrity gave him big a tip!

Chris left with his huge bag of ice cubes and headed back to his car. He looked at the bag while sighing.

"That'll teach me to get drunk, come on Chris, you can do it! For your man!"

And he poured the contents of the bag over his head while letting out one more shrill cry which made turn the few passers-by who were present.

Among them, certainly paparazzi being informed of the presence of Chris Evans in a Bostonian club. Chris could not give a damn about them, all he wanted was to find y/n the love of his life! settled in his car being still wet and retrieved his phone then went to the geo-location app and looked for Y/n's

"They can't be far if it's only an hour's drive"

Chris thought while looking for y/n's geo-location.

Turns out Y/n and and Sebastian were in Boston as well but across town.

"Well, looks like they're really close..."

He trailed off and sighed. He hoped despite Sebastian's words that he would have a little more than an hour to think about his apologies. How he was going to do to be forgiven by Y/n, knowing that he had hurt him deeply.

He threw the address on the GPS and started the engine, he was definitely not ready but one thing was sure, he wanted to be by his boyfriend's side in any way possible.

‐-----------

Part 1 completed ! ✅

Argg I'm so happy to begin this mini journey with you guys ! At first I wanted to make 1 part only buy I figured out that it was way to long to do it in 1 sooo there's probably going to be like 3 or 4 max ! Anyway hope you enjoyed it because I did !!

[x-atlas-x]

Yugi could remember the last time he’d felt this heartbroken. He remembered sitting outside with tears streaming down his cheeks. He remembered clutching his knees to his chest, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

He admired the full moon and glittering stars above him through his blurry vision. He vowed to never let himself feel this way, but it had happened again. It happened twice, and he was beyond furious with himself.

How could he be so stupid?

He heard footsteps behind him. He quickly wiped his tears and covered the sound of his sniffles with a cough muffled into his sleeve.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re not bawling your eyes out.”

“I’m not,” He grumbled. “It’s just allergies.”

“I’ve been standing here for the past five minutes. I know you’ve been crying this whole time.”

Yugi rolled his eyes at Atem’s inability to respect his privacy. He peered over at him when his roommate sat down beside him.

“You really suck. You shouldn’t watch someone while they’re having a pity party,” Yugi huffed. “It’s strictly private business.”

“To be fair, I came out here to tell you that the shower’s available for you—you know, like you asked,” Atem’s cocky smirk didn’t make him feel any better. “It’s not my fault I accidentally stumbled out here while you’re weeping all over the place.”

Yugi sighed, “Yeah, well, you should’ve walked away as soon as you realized it.”

“Maybe,” Atem shrugged. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re not doing this in the shower. You would definitely run out of hot water—though, that would’ve been amusing to hear…”

“You just love to watch me suffer,” Yugi mumbled, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Only when it’s harmless,” Atem frowned. “I’m sorry about what happened. You didn’t deserve that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yugi muttered. “It happened regardless of whether or not I deserved it.”

“Your boy—I mean, ex—was a prick.”

“He didn’t act that way when we first started dating.”

“They never do,” Atem hummed, “but they have to start showing their true colors at some point.”

“After a year and a half of being together?” Yugi winced when he felt another rush of tears flooding his eyes. “God, I thought I fucking knew him so well, but—“

“You didn’t,” Atem finished. “He’s notorious for that. He woos people, butters them up, then dumps them out of the blue. He always makes them feel like they’re the problem, when they’re not. You’re not the problem, Yugi. He is.”

“I guess…” Yugi trailed off. “I hate feeling like this. I wish it didn’t hurt so much.”

“I know,” Atem wrapped an arm around Yugi’s shoulders and pulled him into his side. “It’ll be okay, though. You’ll move on, and you’ll get over him at some point. He’s not worth dwelling over.”

Yugi nodded and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He laid his head on Atem’s shoulder, then timidly asked, “Will you stay with me?”

“I will. If it gets any colder, though, I’m dragging your ass inside. My hair’s wet, and I’m not risking getting hypothermia.”

Yugi playfully scoffed, “It’s not that cold out here.”

“You’re not the one with wet hair.”

“Good point.”

They lost track of how much time they spent out there. At some point, Atem tugged Yugi to his feet and led him inside, complaining about his hair still being damp. They bid each other a good night, then disappeared into their respective rooms to get some sleep.

And if Yugi wandered into Atem’s room in the middle of the night, then that was nobody else’s business but his own.

[troutsoup]

my bloodweave escort au

Alternate universe—no illithids, takes place during the same time period as the game's start.

Newly-escaped vampire spawn Astarion flees to Waterdeep; he's always liked cities, and this one is huge, with more than enough space to go into hiding build a new life for himself. Well-practiced in the skill of seduction and hindered by his inability to go out during the day, he starts work as an escort, complete with a cheesy fake name and a regular clientele. Sure, he'd be more successful with a procurer/manager, but he's trying this new thing called governing himself. Besides, he makes plenty enough to get by.

Gale is surrounded by tressyms, crying into a pint of ice cream getting by just fine, thank you very much. He may not get out much, or talk with anyone besides Tara, and he may spend hours each day reminiscing about his past relationship, but he's surviving. Loneliness is easy enough to overcome, with time. And money.

Can you see where this is going?

Maybe it's Tara that encourages it, please, Mr. Dekarios, we both know you could use the companionship, or maybe she wordlessly leaves the flyer she'd ripped from the city's advertising board on his desk for him to find and be terribly offended by—until that night when he's haunted by dreams of Mystra, and, okay, maybe he should do something about this.

Astarion's nights are booked to the hells and back, but after his regular cancels and a new potential client makes himself known with a magically-sent message (dripping with almost-pathetic desperation), his curiosity is piqued—and he's not going to miss out on some coin.

They meet at an inn.

Gale's hands are shaking when they meet. They're shaking when the elf—who is gorgeous and seems to know it—takes them in his own dainty, pale ones and leads him over to sit on the bed, asks him questions about all manners of things and smiles politely, says his own name to him like it's a secret—Gale of Waterdeep—and Gale's not sure if he's being teased or flirted with but it doesn't much matter when they're kissing, suddenly, or when the elf climbs atop him to grind their hips together, or least of all when he gets Gale's robes undone and brings him off with a practiced hand.

"What can I do for you?" Gale asks, gesturing to him, and he shakes his head, kisses Gale's nose and says, "Aren't you tired, darling, shall we sleep?" And he does, holding the elf while he trances.

He starts to get the sense that despite the circumstances of their meeting, the elf might actually like him.

Astarion realizes quickly that this guy's a fucking moron; the kind of lovesick dweeb he'll be able to drain for some serious cash. He collects the night's due from Gale on his way out, giving himself just enough time to get home before the sun rises.

They keep meeting.

One night: Astarion on his knees with Gale against the wall, whimpering into his elbow because (and Astarion's sure of this) he's never had such good head before.

The next: on the bed, Astarion teaching Gale how to fuck him (he's much too gentle—it's not like Astarion's made of glass, and he says so, and Gale whispers in his ear that he just doesn't want to hurt him).

And then, because Gale keeps begging him to, Astarion lets Gale suck his dick, and he doesn't know what the hell he's doing but Astarion talks him through it and Gale's so damn thrilled about it that it ends up being fun for both of them.

Gale is fucking delighted a very normal amount of excited about their meetings. It's nice to have something to look forward to, but mostly just to feel wanted, even if he has to pay for it. The elf reveals himself to be incredibly quick-witted, and oh is he fun to converse with—they spend the first few hours of their nights together just chatting, and as loathe as the elf is to reveal anything about himself, it's still great to be listened to.

In spite of himself, Astarion starts looking forward to their meetings, too. Gale's sweet to him, and the sex is good, and he doesn't ask Astarion to do any of the weird fetish shit he's accustomed to with some of his clients. At some point, they switch from the inn to house calls, and he can't deny liking Gale's cute little living space, the balcony where Gale reads poetry to him while their legs are slung across each other's on the bench, and most of all his darling tressym, Tara—that is until Astarion arises before Gale does one day and sees Tara staring at him through the mirror where his reflection should be.

Astarion whips around, ready to—well, he's not sure exactly. Pull the dagger he keeps in his boot? Stab her? That's a bit extreme, even for him.

Tara flicks her tail at him. "You can't honestly think we hadn't discovered. Your eyes are red as bloodstones."

"He never said anything—"

"He thinks you're insecure about it. The same way you're insecure about that scarring on your back." And then, calm as anything, she starts a walk to the kitchen. "Come, have some tea. The sun won't rise for hours."

So. The fact that Gale knows about his vampirism settles like a heavy weight on Astarion's chest: the knowledge that Gale sees him as he is and cares about him despite, and the guilt that comes with it.

It only gets worse when Gale comes down with a rough case of I-Can-Save-Him Syndrome, also known as Pretty Woman Disorder—and what used to be questions about how Astarion got into the business start to become questions about what he'd like to be doing, otherwise, and encouragements to pursue other lines of work.

The worst part is that Gale's right in his assumptions—Astarion is sick to death of using his body to trap people. But he doesn't know how to do anything else. He doesn't remember how to do anything else.

Astarion snaps at him one night—"You just want me all to yourself, how pathetic you are to think I'd actually like you for something besides your wallet—" and from the way Gale looks at him, he can tell his little outburst does not have the intended effect; Gale doesn't hate Astarion for it, he hates himself.

Whatever. Not his problem to solve.

He cancels all of his appointments indefinitely and spends a week to himself, draining rats and such. Back to his roots. It feels awful. Is there nothing in this life that will fulfill him?

At least he was making coin before.

Gale messages him again. Something something he's sorry, Astarion was right, please come over. He'll pay for his time.

It's the only reason Astarion acquiesces.

It's startlingly easy to fall back into old patterns as soon as Gale opens his door; Astarion is on him at once; kissing his neck, grabbing a fistful of his robes to pull him closer, ignoring Gale's stop, stop, until he gets a hand on Astarion to shove him away.

Astarion's heart pounds hotly in his chest. What the hells?

But Gale's staring hard at him. "I won't bed you tonight."

"Fine, darling, I could bed you."

"No—" Gale runs a hand back through his hair, frustrated, looking for once like he's got nothing to say.

Astarion has a similar problem. He settles on "You really don't want to bed me?"

"Not tonight," Gale says, surging forward to take Astarion's hands in his own. "I like you," he says, "and I think you like me, too."

"You don't know me."

"I'd like to," Gale continues, unfazed. "Let me."

Maybe it's the wide-eyed, unapologetic vulnerability in Gale's eyes that makes him say yes.

Maybe it's that it's time to try something new.

Maybe he figures it's time to make a decision for himself.

"There's a lot we don't know about each other, huh?"

Gale's smile is shy when he traces the lines of his chest tattoo up his own neck. "We've got the whole night ahead of us."

They sit on the balcony where they can hear the waves.

Astarion tells him everything, starting with his name.

[fortunefavourstheboldau]

chapter 4: the descent

"Hey Anya. How far are we from the next stop?"

Curly sat down next to Anya, yet another cup of coffee in hand. The amount he was drinking per day was starting to become a problem, but eh. He'd deal with that later. At least he didn't have to worry about Jimmy using the autopilot key, now that he'd put it away. He'd have to deal with Jimmy later that day, though. God, he was terrified. Anya stared at him, eyes widening. She sat forward.

"Why do you ask?"

"I think you should get looked over by another medical professional. Might be able to remove that parasite."

She sat back, satisfied with that answer. Curly smiled at her, mustering up all the confidence he could find.

"I don't want you suffering because of my inability to act as a captain. You never deserved that."

Anya looked away, avoiding eye contact with him. She shifted, fidgeting with her jet-black hair.

"Curly, I don't blame you for not acting sooner. I'm glad you're finally acting now though. I'm quite... surprised about the sudden change though."

He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Should he tell her about... the memories? Would she even want to know? Could she even handle knowing he failed her so badly that she was forced to take her own life just to get away from Jimmy? He shivered, guilt flooding through his veins. One last chance to make things right.

"Guess you could call it a change of heart."

Her eyebrows furrowed at that, head tilted inquisitively.

"Mind explaining what caused this change of heart...? I'd love to know, as your nurse."

Curly rested his head in his hands, feeling the flames flicker across his spine yet again.

"You'll call me insane if I tell you. Captain's finally gone off the deep end."

She laughed, whacking him with her book.

"You dipshit, I'm going to believe whatever you tell me. You're not just my captain, you're my friend. And I'm not just your nurse."

He smiled, head still firmly planted in his hands.

"You're the best, Anya. Buut, if I tell you, swear you won't put it on the reports? Can't let ol' Jimmy fly the ship."

"God, keep your voice down. He's always lurking about. I swear it though. I won't put it on the reports."

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"I believe you."

Curly stared at her in disbelief. How could she believe him? It all just sounded like some stupid nightmare he'd had that kept haunting him.

"You do? You don't think I'm going insane?"

She shuffled closer, and took both of his hands in hers.

"You're not going insane. Quite frankly, none of what you've said is out of character for any of us."

He felt a lump form in his throat. He hadn't let himself properly cry in a long time, and he damn well didn't want to start now. Anya sighed, pulling him into a hug.

"Let it out. It's not healthy to bottle it up."

"I-I'm so sorry- sorry I failed you-you like that."

He sobbed, burying his face into her shoulder, trying to stifle the wretched cries. Curly hated being emotional, especially out in the open. He'd always waited til he got home, so he could run upstairs and shut the door before he let himself cry. His father would beat him whenever he showed emotion, telling him he'd never be anything great if the only thing he was good at was crying.

"You haven't failed me, yet. You failed the me in your past. But you still can fix things now. It's why you got sent back, I'm assuming."

Curly moved back, grimacing at the tear stain on her jumpsuit. He'd offer to wash that with his pay, once their conversation was over. Anya stared at him, confused on why he'd pulled away.

"I saw the letter. I know I've already failed you. You don't have to lie for my sake, Anya."

"You... You- How did you get that?"

"Big Swans."

"...Are you mad at me?"

She moved her stare to the floor, trying to not make eyecontact. Curly sighed, leaning back.

"No of course not. I agree with everything you'd written. I want to help you write a report. Everything will be fixed by the next stop, I promise."

Anya stood up, setting aside her book.

"You can't be making promises like that. I can't afford to get my hopes up."

Curly cringed at himself. She wasn't wrong, he hadn't exactly proven that he would come through on his promises. From her perspective, he's just told her about some crazy bullshit where he didn't do shit against Jimmy, and Jimmy mutilates and kills almost everyone. She died, and he was still alive. He didn't trust himself either. How could he go around, making promises that he'd fix everything, when that was the exact thing he'd done back then? Words didn't mean shit if the actions didn't back them up.

"I understand. I haven't exactly proven that my promises mean shit, but I'll make it up to you, Anya."

"You don't get it, Curly. I've reported him so many times that the system told me Pony had blocked me from making any more reports. I have reported him. I need you to physically do something, cause Pony's never going to do anything. Subdue him, kill him, chuck him out the airlock, whatever. Anything at this point, Captain. I'm so tired of pretending I'm not terrified to be here. I know you know how that feels."

She moved over to the coffee table, running a hand through her hair to reveal spots on her scalp where she'd picked at it til it bled, strands falling to the floor.

Grant winced, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Christ, Anya, that's horrific! Are you okay?"

Anya glared at him, shaking her head in disagreement, before continuing.

"You have a responsibility to take care of all of us, above my own. You need to get rid of him, and consider training Daisuke, Swansea, or myself on pilot controls, if you're worried about losing a co-pilot."

Curly paused. Training someone else to be his co-pilot wasn't something he'd been taught how to do, but Pony had told him he could cut that corner and upskill his crew. He hated cutting corners, and so begged for a full crew, even to his own detriment. Who would be the best to upskill? He'd gotten bored and made Jimmy show the boy basic flight skills, in case something happened to both of them, but it wasn't enough to consider him 'co-pilot' level. 

"Who do you think I should train? I'll have to do it when Jimmy's taken care of, which is risky, but it should be fine."

"I'll leave that up to you, Grant. It might be nice to have a woman co-pilot, though."

Anya winked at him, before walking off towards the med bay. Curly sat there, confused. Why would she be interested in flying? She'd always told him about how much she hated the idea of being responsible for an entire ship, and how back on Earth, she hated heights. Did she mean something else? He looked over at the book she'd been reading. ' The Rainbow Serpent: Dreamtime stories, and their cultural significance ' Dreamtime stories? When was she ever interested in Indigenous culture? He was a quarter aboriginal, but that was on his father's side. He hadn't talked to the guy since his parents divorced.

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"Hey Daisuke?"

Daisuke looked up at him, eyes squinting when Curly opened his bedroom door.

"Duude what if I was wanking in here? You gotta knock first."

Curly laughed, walking over to Daisuke. He wasn't wrong, Curly really should start knocking when he goes to talk to other crew in their own spaces, but the thought of walking in on the boy was morbidly hilarious.

"Fine, fine, I'll knock next time. I do have something to ask, though."

"Yeah what's up dawg? Sit on the shoe cabinet there, I need to wash the bedsheets later. I spilt that gross coffee on the sheets when I tried drinking some. Went everywhere."

Daisuke snorted as Curly sheepishly made his way over to the shoe cabinet. His room was a complete contrast to Curly's, heavily decorated with vibrant colours, posters stickered all over the walls. He wasn't sure what Daisuke's aesthetic was called. He'd heard the word "decora" but he'd never heard of what it was. Curly's room was less... entertaining, decorated with muted blues and blacks, a solar system painted painstakingly on the ceiling. He'd spent way too long on that damn ceiling to ever admit it, but as poorly done as it was, he was proud of it.

"Has Jimmy ever... done anything to you? Ever said anything inappropriate?"

Daisuke's nose crinkled, his lip raising to show his disgust.

"Of course he's said shit. He's a weirdo brony guy. Most L rizz guy I've ever seen."

"Gonna need you to explain the last two sentences for me, champ. I don't understand a word you just said."

Curly scratched the back of his head. Jeez, was he really that old that he didn't understand modern lingo? Soon he'd be clutching his back, going "Back in my day we did this, you youngins are lazy!" He scowled at the thought. Nah, he wasn't that old yet. Mid 30's wasn't too bad.

"Oh I forgot you're a grandpa, Captain. Jimmy wanks to pictures of ponies. He's a freak, of course he's said weird shit."

God, that was not something he wanted to write on the report. 

'Co-pilot often has fantasies of sexual intercourse with horses.' Maybe that explained his strange obsession with Polle? Ew. He wasn't a grandpa either!

"Daisuke, I'm only mid-30s."

"That's the thing you take issue with?? Not Jimmy being a freak??"

Daisuke looked horrified, both hands on his desk. Curly rolled his eyes at the intern. Of course he took issue with more than just getting called a grandpa! He couldn't really express anything negative about Jimmy with the boy though. Daisuke would blab about it to Swansea, and then Swansea would reprimand Curly for his immaturity.

"No, no that's not what I meant, Dai. It's not professional for me to discuss my own thoughts about Jimmy's... actions. Can you elaborate further about what Jimmy's said to you?"

Curly wasn't sure why he particularly cared about 'being seen as professional' anymore. He'd practically left all the weight on Anya's shoulders, and only complained about his inaction, instead of really doing anything. He wasn't worthy of his title, even though he'd had it for a solid 5 years of his 10 years with Pony. He'd had more than enough time to 'learn' how to be a good captain, and still he hadn't. Daisuke sat back down, turning down the sound on his gameboy.

"He says a lot of shit about you guys. Says that Anya's a.. uh.."

The boy stared at the floor sheepishly, kicking himself under the desk. Curly cursed under his breath. He vaguely knew what Jimmy had called Anya, because it was Jimmy's favourite thing to call women who didn't want to sleep with him. Jimmy always said it like it was his favourite word, rolling it around on his tongue like he was trying to savour its sound.

"I'll just assume what he calls her. You don't have to say it. What else does he say?"

Curly continued, pulling a coffee stained notepad out of his pocket. He'd put it in there in case Daisuke had something he could add to the report, but he wasn't sure how much the boy would have to say.

"He says people have to be worth their titles, and he thinks you're praised for doing less than the bare minimum and that you're a fake bitch. He thinks he should be captain instead, because he thinks he'd do a better job running this shitshow."

Daisuke shifted nervously, awkwardly giving Curly a thumbs up. Curly sighed. Of course Jimmy was trying to undermine him through yet another intern. He'd been criticising him ever since he got the role, trying to find anything to get Pony to fire him.

"Yeah he loves saying that to the newbies. Swansea backhanded him when he tried that shit on him. Anything else?"

"No, not really. He says I'm a failure and that I'm wasting space, air and food, and I shouldn't even be here. But that's uh.. normal to hear."

Curly patted Daisuke on the shoulder. Swansea was always criticising the poor boy, but at least he meant it out of an inability to show affection. Jimmy only meant it to get under your skin.

"I hope you know you're doing very well here, and that you deserve to be here as much as anyone else, alright? I know it probably doesn't mean much, hearing it from me, but I mean it Daisuke."

Tears ebbed at the boy's eyes as he began to shake, a whimper escaping from his mouth. Curly pulled him into a hug, stroking his back.

"T-thanks Curly. No one's said- said .. anything nice to me in a while."

Oh dear.. He'd have to work on improving crew morale. How had he not noticed Daisuke beginning to crack under the constant criticism?

"Well, I'm going to set a new quota on compliments. You shouldn't have had to go through so long without atleast someone saying something nice."

Daisuke stayed quiet, clutching a little tighter. He needed this, and Curly had the time to spare.

note: building up to the jimmy confrontation :3 posted this on my main accidentally 😭🙏

fic link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61405324/chapters/157217209

[ghoulangerlee]

For your prompt thing, and if you want... could you spare some... SWISSRORA B L E A SE. Anything sweet and playful between them would be... I would cry. Thank you, I owe you my life (if you decide to choose this)

HELLO THIS IS A BIT LATE but life you see

ANYWAY this is mostly inspired by the shenanigans that Swiss got into on stage during the tour.(mainly him being on his knees for her...a lot...) Aurora may be new but she knows how to care for a big boy :')

content: vague references to heat/rut though there is no actual heat or rut, cunnilingus, masturbation, dirty talk, Aurora is In Charge :^}

**lemme know if you see any glaring errors I wrote this on my phone and my keyboard sometimes glitches oop**

-

"Oh baby," Aurora coos softly, her palms cupping Swiss's flushed face, she's standing above him, dragging the pad of her thumb gently across the apple of his cheek, "Are you in heat?"

Swiss makes a noise in his throat, leaning into her touch as his eyes flutter shut, he vocalizes, a low sort of rumble deep in his chest that has Aurora giggling, lifting one hand to drag her fingers gently through his curls.

"Sweet boy," she says, "You're so desperate for it you've forgotten your manners, haven't you?" She asks, her voice sticky sweet, "I know you can do better than that, baby."

He makes another noise this time, a garbled version of her name as his hands come up to grip the backs of her bare thighs and he shuffles closer to her until he's resting his chin against her stomach, staring up at her with wide, pleading eyes. "Aurora, please," he says, words coming out thick like his tongue is too big for his mouth. "Please, let me have a taste."

She laughs then, the sound light and happy as she brushes her thumb across his cheek again and then downwards, running the pad of it over his lower lip.

His tongue follows it, swiping gently across her fingertip as he tries to close his lips around it.

"Ah," she says, somewhat sharply, "None of that, baby, you'll get it when I give it to you, alright?"

His eyes flutter closed at the reprimand and he makes a sad noise, "Sorry 'rora," he mumbles, tipping his head forward so he can press a kiss to her stomach instead. "I'll be good."

"I know you will, baby," She says, gently scratching her nails across his scalp, "You're always so good for me when you remember your place."

He makes another noise, this time somewhat pleased, at the overly generous praise that she's given him—he is not good, most of the time, and they both know that, they both get off on his inability to be patient sometimes, on how he'll just take when he's in certain moods.

Today though, he wants to be good for her.

He presses one more kiss to her stomach, gentle and closed mouth before he leans back on his heels, letting his hands fall from where they'd been holding her thighs to rest palm up on his own folded legs.

"Look at you," Aurora murmurs with a soft smile, "Beautiful," she compliments him, rubbing her thumb over his lower lip again, briefly pressing in and dragging it down a bit so she can see his teeth—sharp, his glamour flickering the more aroused he gets, "You'll have to get rid of those if you want to pit your mouth anywhere near me," she says, the tip of her thumbnail resting gently against his lower canine.

Swiss whines softly when Aurora lets go of his face and he runs his tongue across his lower lip, tasting salt and barely there sulfur from her touch.

"Touch yourself for me first," she says after a few moments, her eyes dark and possessive, "Let me see what you have waiting for me, sweet one."

Hurriedly, he complies, he's only wearing sweats, his chest bare—cock tenting his pants where he's been hard since Aurora had touched him what feels like hours ago now, the two of them watching a movie together, cuddled up on the couch.

He had been paying attention for the most part, until Aurora had slipped her hand beneath the blanket over their laps, her small hand rubbing at him through the sweats.

She'd giggled, leaned into him when she realized he hadn't been wearing underwear, murmuring in his ear about what she wanted from him. (His mouth.)

He wraps his hand around himself, it's a bit dry, but he knows it won't be for long, especially not with the way he's leaking, twisting his fist just under the head, brushing the pad of his thumb over the tip—Aurora's watching him with heavy eyes, like she wants to eat him, her eyes trained on his fist.

He slows down a bit, rocking into his fist like he's fucking it, slow rolls of his hips as he squeezes around his own cock, "Fuck," he breathes out.

"That's it baby," Aurora says, her voice breathless, her own hand hovering just over the wet spot in her panties, fingers teasing through the sticky material. "Imagine that's me, squeeze yourself a bit tighter now, you're so big you barely fit," she coaches him

Swiss moans, eyes falling shut as he follows her directions, squeezing his fist tighter around himself, his palm now wet and sticky, overly warm from the friction—he fucks up into his fist, "'rora," he mumbles, mouth falling open as he pants.

She gasps, biting her lower lip as she quickly strips off her sticky underwear, stepping closer to Swiss—she can clock the moment he smells her arousal, the way his eyes snap open, focusing on her like a predator their prey.

Smiling at him, she moves closer, cupping his jaw carefully to tilt his head back a little as she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes, fitting herself just over his mouth, "Keep touching yourself," she orders, the words trailing off into a groan as his tongue drags wetly over her cunt. "Make me come first and you can come tonight, sweetness."

Swiss groans, the vibrations making Aurora shiver and push herself higher on her toes—her voice in his ear as she begs him for more, her scent so strong and pure where his nose is buried against her making him close his eyes again.

With a careful hand, Aurora parts her folds, toes curling against the carpeted floor as Swiss's tongue nudges against her clit for a moment before, "Not inside baby," she's quick to correct him when she feels his tongue swipe over her hole, and the moan that he lets out—either in disappointment or because of her taste is almost enough to make her rethink her words.

Because he's so good, Swiss focuses his attention back on her clit, mouthing at it and wrapping his lips around it, tongue gentle and just what she needs as the waves inside her build slowly, the pressure in her lower belly warm and pleasant.

"Good boy," She praises him, whining a little when his pleased moan sends a sharp course of arousal through her, "You're doing so well for me, taking such good care of me, baby."

Her hand goes to his hair, holding on tightly as she grinds down against his face, fucking herself against his tongue, "Just like that," she breathes out on a moan, her thighs shaking, "Let me use your mouth baby, just like this."

He's so good to her, keeping his tongue out, letting her grind down against it—she can feel him breathing heavily against her, spurring her own faster, "Just a little bit more, baby," she says, words starting to leave her, "Almost—" she breaks off with a gasp, a sort of low pitched moan as she grips Swiss's hair tight enough to pull, grinding against his tongue until she's feeling wrung out and oversensitive.

And then Swiss's hand is there, on her hip, both holding her up and guiding her into rocking against his mouth as he licks at her, tasting her until her thighs clamp around his head and she's coming again.

He moans, loud and pained as he fucks up into his hand a dozen or so more times before he's coming too, his spend landing on the floor, some landing on her ankle closest to him.

Aurora finally pulls back, still shaking, as she pets through his hair, soothing where she'd pulled at his scalp.

"Good boy," she murmurs, finally dropping down to straddle his lap, uncaring of his sticky with come hand grabbing at her hip, pulling her closer.

His mouth is wet, and he smells so strongly of her that Aurora almost wants to shove his face between her thighs again—but instead she kisses him, slow and deep until he's moaning into it and starting to chin up again.

"Again?" Aurora asks when she pulls away, grinning sharply at him as she cups his face.

Swiss licks his lips, tastes her on them and immediately pushes himself into a standing position, scooping her up as he goes—luckily, the bed isn't too far, he thinks, holding her against his chest as he leaves the common area and takes her to his room, kicking the door shut with a loud thump behind him, her giggles echoing along with it.

[yumimak]

Anomaly- Chapter 5

Hi friends! I don't want to keep you from reading this chapter any longer than I already have by typing a big message up here, but please make sure you read the author's note at the end.

I hope the chapter is the worth the wait!! Enjoy :)

- - -

Y/n

I’m fucked.

Everything was going so fucking well and some how, some way, I ended up just as fucked as I was when I was back with the RDA.

“Fuck,” I grunt as I rest my back against the door of my room, the satisfying click it makes signifying that I was finally alone. I bury my face into my hands. Being alone finally lets all my emotions from the past few hours resurface. Like a surging rush of emotions that come all too fast, consuming every part of me until all I can do is cry.

It’s not a small cry like the one back in the clearing, no. It's a deep sob that escapes the back of my throat eliciting a painful sound I’d never imagine myself producing. I muffle the sound with my hand despite the way that my sobbing makes me shake and heave for a breath I couldn’t quite catch.

My crying releases me of the last bit of energy I had stored in my body. My back slides against the smooth metal door until my butt hits the ground. I pull my knees to my chest, holding myself until I’m so drained of tears that all I can do is heave shortened breaths.

It’s only then that I will myself off of the ground and to my bathroom. My actions all feel foreign as I take off my hair pieces and jewelry, as I shower and carefully wash my hair, as I dry off and pull on a baggy t-shirt and sweats. 

It’s like my expression of sadness has left me truly numb and empty. Well, until I turn off the main light of my room and I finally get to lay on my bed, encapsulating myself in my blanket. It’s then that the dark warmth of my sad blanket cocoon brings on another wave of sadness.

As my warm tears glide down my cheeks and unto my mattress I realize that this would be one of those nights of crying alone in my bed until the pain of exhaustion overrides the pain of sadness and I finally fall asleep. I’d experienced many nights like this back at the RDA, this past week led me to believe I’d left them back there.

I guess I was too quick to assume.

I continue to shed my seemingly endless amount of tears as I continuously think about everything that's happened today. The attack, the accusations, Jake’s words, and the painful trip to Mo’at simply topping it off.

Suddenly my cry sesh is interrupted when someone barrels through my door, “Bitch, you won’t believe what Lo’ak told me-” It’s Noah. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I mumble in my best attempt to sound normal.

“Yeah and I’m going to be the next Olo’eyktan,” he jokes, his voice approaching after he closes the door. “I know you better than you know yourself so don’t bother lying. I know a ‘sad blanket cocoon’ when I see one.”

I groan in annoyance as I pull the blanket down, the lamp beside my bed provides just enough light for Noah to see my battered face and teary eyes. His face portrays a weird mix of anger and sadness, “Oh, God. Who the hell- who did this to you?” he asks, his voice rough.

I shake my head, “It doesn’t matter.” I didn’t need for him to go out causing trouble for himself on behalf of the trouble I had just been put into. 

His anger forcibly leaves his face. He is left with that sad sympathetic look alone, his ears low and his lips turned into a frown. “Well, what happened?”

I somehow can’t figure out how to tell him. Too many thoughts mixing making me unable to find a starting point. In my inability to speak I feel my bottom lip poke out, more tears following it. Noah lets out a sigh, “Scoot over, crybaby.”

I oblige, scooting over in bed to allow room for my brother who took up way too much space in these human beds. Norm and Max hand put two of the mattresses against each other making it long enough for us to fit our legs but they still weren't that wide.

When he’s comfortably fit under the covers he pulls me into an embrace that I had not realized I needed. It’s strong and loving and makes me feel as though despite all odds, things might somehow end up okay. It isn’t until my tears have slowed once more and my breath is almost normal that Noah speaks again. “Try to start from the beginning. I know it had to have started with getting that sample from Norm so start there. What exactly started all of this?”

The attack.

My brain instantly clears recognizing the catalyst to the shitstorm I’d just experienced. That’s where I start in my long explanation of everything. Speaking about it clarifies the situation in my head enough for me to truly process it and all that it could mean. It leaves a pit in my lower stomach that I decide to ignore for the time being.

Like the amazing brother he is, Noah doesn’t interject. He doesn’t give an opinion or his advice because he understands that right now I just need to get it all out of my system, put it in the air and recognize the weight it puts in the atmosphere and allow it to linger until I eventually adapt.

There’s a moment of silence when I’m done speaking. A moment where we both rest in the weight of our surroundings. “Is- is there anything I could do?” Noah asks. “To help?”

I shake my head, almost breaking a smile at the kind gesture, “No, no, it’s okay. I will figure it out but until then I want you to keep going to training and giving your all. I don’t want whatever decision Jake makes to affect you too.”

He rolls his eyes at me, “If anything changes for you, it’s changing for me too. I wouldn’t abandon you like that.”

“I don’t think it’s considered ‘abandoning’ if I am the one telling you to do what’s safer for you.”

He scoffs out a laugh, “We really don’t have to get into the technicalities of this. If you go, or are not allowed in the clan, then so will I. There’s no talking me out of it.

“You are so aggravating,” I say finally letting out a small laugh.

He smiles at the gesture. “Says the one who thinks I am going to abandon her for a clan of people who don’t even like me. You will always be my priority, Y/n.”

His words burn as they enter my system. So genuine and meaningful, reminding me that through every bad thing I’d been through in my life, he was there. And as long as he had something to say it seemed it would always be this way. “I love you,” I mumble.

“I love you too. Now that’s enough of being sad. You will get better, I will keep going to training and everything will work itself out, okay?”

I nod, “Okay, except, please don’t talk to anyone about anything. Neteyam already knows but I’d rather not keep bringing it up. If anyone asks-”

“You are here healing and that’s all that matters,” he finishes for me, knowing I had not wanted any aspect of today venturing into a far bigger deal than it already was.

If that was even possible.

“Now enough of this conversation. I’m staying in here tonight and I think we should watch Gumball.”

I can’t fight the smile that freely smudges itself across my face, “I think we should too.” Noah reaches for my laptop on my nightstand. Opening it and pulling up the last file of the show I had watched last night.

Tv shows.

One of the very few miraculous things that humans had created. Growing up in the RDA, Noah and I had been very aware of videos. They were a way to capture a moment that you could replay but essentially, when you broke it down, it was just a bunch of pictures called ‘frames.’

I thought ‘videos’ were boring and I dreaded them. I had always associated them with a new training or a new order. But when I was fourteen and began getting closer to Norm, almost always looking forward to when I could sneak and speak with him, he somehow changed my feelings on videos.

Not only did he share the endless and breath-taking data he had on Pandora, which I found myself looking at almost every spare moment he could, but he also shared these different types of videos called ‘shows and movies.’

He told me they were videos that told stories. A lot of the scientists brought or got these video stories, or films as Max would say, to keep them entertained. Norm thought it was unfair for us to not have entertainment as well.  

He sent the films over one night, loads and loads of files that I stored onto a flash drive and uploaded to the laptop the RDA entrusted me with for research. Noah and I spent every night together watching as many of the films as we could until exhaustion got a hold of us.

Some of them were funny, some of them were sad. But our absolute favorite was actually a show Norm had downloaded for himself. It was a ‘cartoon’ called ‘The Amazing World of Gumball.’ Each of the videos tell a story of Gumball, a blue cat, and his life with his brother Darwin, who is a talking fish.

The storylines were so unbelievable and so impossible yet Noah and I became obsessed with them and since then continue to watch the show. When we were planning to escape we were scared that we would not be able to bring my laptop with all our favorite videos shared.

Since the RDA gave me the device I feared they would be able to track me with it. In the end though I realized how easy it was to deep dive into the internetworkings of a computer and simply disconnect any trace of the RDA. We knew Norm would have the recordings but something about this laptop, our Gumball laptop, made it too important to simply leave behind.

Said laptop is placed between Noah and I as the episode starts, the nostalgic opening sound heightening my mood as I drop my head to lean on Noah’s shoulder. “Wait,” I say, remembering something. “What did Lo’ak tell you?”

“Huh?” he mumbles, looking from the screen to me.

“When you came in here you said that Lo’ said something to you..”

“Oh yeah,” he says, letting out a laugh. “Apparently Spider is into you.” “What?”

“Mhmm,” he hums yet continues to laugh. “Lo’ak thinks it’s because you are the first girl who somewhat resembles his race.”

“Gross, Spider?” I groan.

“Hey, he’s not that bad. You know you love that blue paint and white boy dreads.”

I slap Noah’s arm for saying such mean words about our friend but it doesn’t keep me from belting out a laugh of my own, “You are unbearably stupid, Noah.”

- - -

Neteyam

Practice with Noah was great today, but I am confused.

Just yesterday his twin went through so many things but he seemed so unconcerned. At first I assumed she had not told him in embarrassment or shame, but when I asked how she was doing he seemed to know that she was injured.

Did she lie about what happened to make her injured? 

Or is she actually okay now and they aren’t concerned? 

Or, worse, what is she is distraught about it and doesn’t want anyone to know?

Oh Eywa, what if she was so distraught but didn’t even tell her brother and now she’s just sulking all alone in her room?!

“What’s on your mind, son?” 

“Hm?” I hum, looking over to my father. We were walking back from a late night hunt, the rest of the group split into the directions of their homes.

“You've been distracted today, in your own little world.”

“Yeah,” I agree, stopping.

He does the same, facing me, “What is it?” “Nothing, it's just- What you said yesterday.. Are you really rethinking your decisions about Y/n?”

“I- I don’t know. I have to protect the people, son. You know that.”

“Yes but I also know that Y/n would never do anything like that.”

“You may believe that but there was proof of her hurting them and none of them cutting her. The odds are not in her favor and if it comes down to new people versus old, I am obligated to believe Kumo.”

“What if I could prove that it wasn’t her fault? That she belongs here and Kumo is just a skxawng trying to keep her from our clan?”

There is a beat of pause, “Why do you care so much?” 

He’s assuming things, I can tell by the narrow of his eyes.

“Because,” I sigh. “I know them and I know that this is not something either of them would do, especially Y/n. I care so much because I am sick of Kumo getting away with getting people in trouble. He used to do it with Lo’ak and now he’s trying it with Y/n and I refuse to let it happen if there is anything I can do to stop it.”

My dad almost smiles at my words, not a humorous one but one of pride, “Fine. You have until she is better to bring me some type of proof that justifies her innocence. I trust your word I just- I can’t pick them over our people.” I have to physically keep myself from grinning, nodding instead, “Yes, yes I understand. Thank you, dad.”

He smiles, roughly patting my shoulder as a ‘you’re welcome’ before we move again heading back home. For the rest of the night though my brain churns, through dinner and keeping me up through the night.

Millions of thoughts all pertaining to one subject… proving Y/n’s innocence.

- - -

Y/n

One week.

Seven days.

168 hours.

10,080 minutes.

604,800 seconds.

More specifically; six days, 13 hours, 24 minutes, and about 35 seconds.

That’s how long I've been in my room.

My only visitor has been my brother, checking in on me or, on one occasion, bringing me ointment from Mo’at. A couple times he’d watch Gumball with me after his training but never for long because he’d be very tired from training.

I told him he didn’t have to worry about staying with me because I understand him being tired so, aside from his little check in’s, it’s just been me. In all honesty the free time was nice, I’d watch Gumball, play with my hair, or read. But as the week has progressed this anxious pit has permanently seemed to find its place in my stomach.

It’s fueled by all my subconscious thoughts and worries about whether or not Jake would change his mind about me. Or whether or not I'd get to finish my training, and if I did get to would I even be capable of catching up in time?

It took away my motivation to truly do anything. When I watched Gumball it felt like a chore, my attention focused on my worries and not the cartoon. Even doing my hair was a hassle, the only thing I could get myself to do was pull it in a low bun. 

Reading wasn’t that bad though. I’d have to focus on each word and letter leaving no space for my worries in those moments. In the past three days I've read seven books. Whether it was a science book or old novels the humans had brought, I’d engorge myself with the words all the same.

I was half finished with the book I had started last night when I decided to shower. I’d gotten dressed, back in bed, and back to my book by the time Noah got back. He dropped in to say a quick ‘hello’ before going to take a shower himself.

I go back to my book when there is a knock at my door. My ears peak at the sound. Noah never knocks, and Max and Norm gave up talking to me a while ago.

I sigh as I turn my book upside down on my night stand before stalking over to the door. I opened it just enough to see who was there. To my surprise I am met with a broad, blue chest. My eyes trail up to the face of the person, “Neteyam?”

“Hi,” he smiles.

“Hi?” I say, confused as to why he was here even as I open the door wider for him to enter. “What’re you doing here?” I ask, as I close the door.

“Well, Mo’at wanted me to check on your wound and I wanted to see how you were doing," he explains as I make my way around him, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Oh? Well, I’m fine,” I tell him, not really wanting anyone to try to delve into the details of how I felt right now. I know the second someone tries I will break into a million pieces, each crying out to be picked up, cared for, and put back together again because Eywa knows I couldn’t do it myself.

“Oh okay,” he says, taking only a few steps closer before awkwardly asking, “Can I see your wound, please?”

“Yeah, of course,” I mumbled, realizing I was wearing a bigger t-shirt than normal which made it harder to see my side. I pull it up enough to expose the healing scar.

Neteyam moves much closer, kneeling before me. He inspects it, “It looks much better.” “Thank you.”

“Mhmm,” he hums before reaching into the small bag that was attached to his side. He pulls out a small container, “This is a new ointment that will help it heal all the way.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Mo’at made it so.. probably. But it absorbs so it's only a temporary burn.”

“Okay,” I huff, mentally preparing myself. The cream burns as he applies it over the partially healed skin that lined my stitches. When I wince he moves his hand to rest on my knee. His touch is gentle and comforting as his thumb mindlessly grazes the soft fabric of my pants.

It’s a specific touch that I remember from last week. One that constantly brought me peace even in one of the most horrible events of my life. I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t thought back to his touches over the past week. The way that he held and caressed me with such care when I was hurt.

I’d been held before when I was hurt, only by my brother though. But something about Neteyams touch was different in a way that I couldn’t quite decipher.

All I knew was that for some reason I crave to have that touch more and more.

When he’s done applying the ointment on my side he rises. His hand moves from my knee to my chin, holding my face up so that he could apply more ointment to the gash on my temple. 

I watch him as he works. The way he focuses so hard on the task at hand; his eyes trained on the gash, his brows furrowed, his lips tilted into a small frown, and his ears pulled back.

This very moment brings me back to last week. His gentle touch, his little jokes to lighten the mood, the way he simply cared for me.

Just as it’s been for the last two weeks, the memory is comforting before more memories eat away at that comfort. Memories of those boys' actions, Jake’s words. The way that I truly don’t know what’s going to happen to me after my accusation. The way that my last time in the forest I’ve come to love could have been one that involved me being attacked.

Just like that, this comforting moment is ruined. That pit in my stomach returns, making the back of my eyes and throat burn. I direct my attention from Neteyam’s face to the ceiling, finding the bright glow of the light to be a better focal point.

I can’t break down in front of him, that’s the last thing I need.

Just a couple more minutes and he’ll be gone.

I repeat those words in my head as he finishes applying for the ointment. “All done,” he says.

“Thank you,” I reply, finally looking away from the light, blinking in an effort to get the afterimage of its glow to fade faster.

“You are welcome,” he mumbles, as he returns the ointment to his pouch. “How are you aside from your wounds?” he asked. The pit in my stomach burns, I feel tears prickle at my eyes at the one question I had hoped he wouldn’t ask floods the room. I blink away the tears but he had unfortunately noticed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

If this idiot doesn’t stop questioning me I swear he will be the next person I punch.

“Nothing,” I answer quickly, as I stand and walk aimlessly towards my dresser. I busied myself with moving stuff around to distract myself from the overwhelming urge to cry. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“I’m okay..” he responds uneasily. “But how I am does not matter right now. I asked about you.”

“And I said I am fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! What makes you think I’m not?” I grunt.

“You’ve been locked in this lab for days, I could have sworn you were about to cry, and when I ask if you are okay you pretend to be reorganizing your belongings.”

I roll my eyes, “I am not pretending,” I say, moving a picture of Noah and I from the left side of my dresser to the right before moving it back to the left. He lets out an annoyed hiss from behind me, obviously noticing my actions and hating the way I lied. “Why do you even care?” I ask lowly, blinking away the few tears that threatened to fall again.

“Because I care about you, Y/n. And I saw what happened to you, and I heard what my father said and I refuse to believe you are just ‘fine.’ And I know you and Noah have hardly been talking about it and I’m worried about you. So are Tuk and Kiri, and Spider and Lo’ak. We all care so much and I personally refuse to let you be here alone and sad. So please, talk to me.”

His words poke and prod at my resolve, slowly breaking it and allowing tears to fall from my eyes. I bite at my bottom lip, holding back a sob I refused to release. My hands have given up on pretending to be busy, now finding them covering my face. “I don’t want to,” I say, the words muffling into my palms.

I’m so busy trying not to cry that I don't notice he’s approached me until I feel his hands land on the sides of my arms. He does that stupid thing with his thumb where he gently rubs it against my skin, a simple touch that somehow calms me while further destroying my efforts of staying strong. “Why not?” he asks, and I am certain he knows what he’s doing to me.

“Because I’m scared,” I sniffled, dropping my hands to pull at my fingers.

He sighs again before using my arms to turn me to face him. I kept fidgeting with my hands, the last thing I wanted to do was look him in the face. That doesn’t matter though because he does that other stupid thing where he holds my face and forces me to crane my head up and look at him. 

I blink through my tears in an attempt to actually see him. I pick up on the way his eyes soften before following my running tears. His mouth falls into another one of his little frowns, “What are you scared of, sevin?”

I don’t bother myself with asking for the meaning of the unknown na’vi word. “I don’t know,” I mumble, eyes falling to look at the way his braids laid over his shoulders, preferring the sight of that over seeing the way he looked down at me. “I- I just  don’t really understand what went wrong. I don’t understand why those boys hurt me, or why your dad doesn’t believe I wouldn’t do anything like that. And i’m- I'm scared that he will decide I’m better off at the lab or back with the RDA then here. And I worry that Jake’s impression of me will reflect onto my brother and then he will punish him too. And as much as I hate the RDA I would be okay going back. I just couldn’t live with myself if I was the reason Noah had to go back too because he doesn’t deserve that at all. And I'm really scared that even if nothing happens with Jake, I won’t be able to catch up with my training and none of this will even matter.”

I took a deep inhale realizing that in my word vomit I'd began sobbing exactly how I had not wanted to. I let my hands cover my face again, a strained sob escaping my lips before I hold my breath in a poor attempt to stop crying before I continue, “And I am embarrassed that I am crying right now, especially in front of you, because I am also scared that maybe I am not even strong enough to be one of the people, emotionally or physically. I’m scared I’m just not fit for the clan.”

My final confession makes me cry harder into my hands. So hard that I feel nauseous and my body feels the urge to ball up like the little baby I was acting like. “Shhh,” Neteyam says, his voice ever so gentle. “C’mere,” he mumbles, one hand pulling my head to his chest and the other wrapping around my body in a strong embrace.

I don’t hesitate to embrace him back, my arms wrapping tightly around his waist as if he was the only thing keeping me from getting lost in my own anxious thoughts. I genuinely believe he was as I practically tremble in his arms, struggling to simply catch my breath. His muscular form almost consumes my entire figure surrounding me with his warmth and comforting scent. One of his hands ran along the side of my hair as his deep accented voice assured me that everything was okay.

My ear against his chest picks up on the steady sound of his heartbeat. I close my eyes and focus on that steady sound and the way I could feel its rhythm against the side of my head. He continues to hold me even as my sobs turn into smaller cries until I’m sniffling in his arms, taking deep breaths in an attempt to regulate my breathing and slow my heart.

In the wake of my anxiety attack my brain is foggy and I am exhausted. I dread the idea of pulling away from his comforting hold, a big part of me wishing I could stay here forever. Luckily he doesn’t pull away from me, not until I do although he still holds me close. 

He doesn’t force a conversation, but his hand comes to wipe away the remnants of tears on my face. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, my energy to speak any louder being completely drained.

“You need to stop apologizing for being upset. Everyone gets upset, Y/n.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

A deep chuckle comes from his lips, “What are you apologizing for now?”

“I don’t even know,” I answer truthfully, letting my body weight fall forward as I hug him again. His arms instantly wrap back around me. “Thank you, Nete,” I mumbled against him, not even wanting to imagine how bad my breakdown would have been if it had happened while I was alone.

He responds with a deep hum as his hand gently rubs my back, “Feel any better?”

I shrug, “Not really.. Maybe a little. I think I needed to cry. Thanks for being here.” “You don’t have to keep thanking me, either,” he laughs again as I pull away from the hug just enough to look up at him.

“I know, but I feel like I should. You’ve helped me so much.. I don’t even think I have a big enough vocabulary in either English or Na’vi to express how grateful I am.”

“Well I’ll always be here,” he tells me. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about your emotions or what you say to me because at the end of the day I am here to help you. You just have to speak to me.”

I nod, “Okay.. Okay I will try. Just.. maybe not anymore tonight. I’m sorry I just-”

Another one of his laughs cut me off. The sound was so perfect I didn't even mind that he interrupted my sentence, “Stop apologizing. You are under no obligation to tell me anything, ever.. at any point. Eywa, you are stressing so much. You need to get out of this room.”

I roll my eyes, “You’re telling me. It’s so bad even my recent dreams are centered around being in the lab.”

His face shifts into an expression that tells me he’s considering something, “Would you like to get out?”

I nod, “Would love to.”

“Well why don’t we go for a walk?”

“Now?!” I question, my brows furrowing at his question. “But it’s like.. past eclipse by now.”

He shrugs, “It will be safe, you will be with me. Plus we won’t even go that far. It will be fun.”

I take a moment to think through his offer although, deep down, I knew I would say yes. “Okay then. I guess we can go,” I answer sarcastically. “Just let me change.”

“Okay,” he says, detaching himself from me. “I will wait outside.”

I nod in agreement, watching him exit my room before I am practically rushing to change. 

I pull on black cargoes as usual but instead of my tank top I pull on a long sleeved top. It was on the tighter side to keep my arms from getting caught on the flora but it kept my healing scars covered. I fix my low but to look a little less messy and then I am pulling on my boots before I am rushing out the door to meet Neteyam.

I must admit there is a pep in my step I haven’t had in days. I can’t quite decipher if it was because I was getting to leave the lab for a while.. or if it was because of the boy I was getting to leave with.

- - -

Neteyam

Tonight is calm.

The wind is subtle, the sounds of nature are soothing, and the glow of the forest is bright as always.

I’d been worried about Y/n for a while. I spent the last view days trying to convince myself that I was overthinking, that she was fine. That I needed to just worry about figuring out how to prove to my father that she was innocent and belonged. That I didn't need to check on her myself, that if anything was too bad Noah would have told me.

I reached my breaking point today when I cut to the chase and asked Noah about his sister. He shrugged off my response, telling me she was fine. But with the way his ears twitched lower I couldn’t believe him, I had to come see myself. And after what I’d just witness, I’m glad I came.

The poor girl was on the brink of a breakdown even before I began questioning her. Being in this lab was no good for her so, despite it being past the eclipse, I was going to take her on a much needed walk.

The door to the lab screeches as it opens drawing my attention to the Y/n as she emerges. She’d changed into different clothes that matched the Y/n I was used to seeing, not the sad girl I had previously held in my arms. “I’m ready,” she says, walking towards me.

I can’t help but smile when I notice her more relieved expression. “C’mon,” I tell her, nodding towards the forest behind me.

She shuffles to my side as we walk. The walk is quiet, too quiet. So quiet that I am concerned that she’d been sad about something again. But when I look over to her, her attention is on everything around us; the glowing trees, the hyperactive plants. 

Her jaw hangs slightly and her eyes are wide as if she had never seen the forest before. I missed that expression she’d wear whenever she walked around the forest. The way she was so infatuated with the world I grew up around. 

The sound of running water tells me we’re close to our final destination. “This way,” I tell her, guiding her in that direction.

She follows until we reach the thick section of leaves that hang before us. My arm moves them out of the way for the two of us to walk through. “Wow,” she gasps, stopping in her tracks.

I stopped as well watching as she took in the spot I’d brought her to. A small section of the forest that was cut out by surrounding trees and other plants with a small section of a river that ran through. From what I know, nobody knew about it but me. It was my only place of peace. “Za’u,” I say, holding my hand out. (Come.)

She grabs my hand, following me as I guide her towards the river side only speaking when I stop to sit beside the river between two large rocks. She mimics my actions, sitting beside me and crossing her legs, “What is this place?”

I am too focused on watching the way my thumb ran over the smooth knuckles of her tiny hand to even realize she had said something.

Were her hands always this soft?

“Neteyam?” she says, her hand twitching in mine to get my attention.

“Hm?” I hum, finally looking up to her.

There is a small smile on her face when she questions me again, “Where are we?”

“Oh, I’m not really sure,” I mumble, looking around before my eyes land back on her. “I found it a couple years ago. Nobody really knows about it so it’s where I come when I need to be alone.” Her mouth turns into a frown, “What’s wrong?”

“I feel bad, like I'm invading your peaceful spot.”

A small laugh escapes my lips, “I purposefully brought you here, sevin. Don’t worry, you probably need the peace more than I do. And if anyone had to know about my spot I’d want it to be you.”

“Why’s that?”

“I love my family but they have a lot of expectations, I can never fully relax around them. But I don’t ever feel like that around you though.”

Y/n’s face warms to a shade of red I haven't seen in a while. “You’re comfy around me?”

“Comfortable?” I question, seeing if the foreign word she used was associated with another similar word I knew.

She smiles, “Yeah, comfortable.”

I nod, “Yeah, I am comfy around you.”

The word falls oddly from my mouth in a way that makes Y/n giggle, “I’m comfy around you too, Nete.”

I can’t describe it but her words make my chest and face burn. They make a feeling I can’t quite describe surge through my body. It makes me want to hear her tell me more about how I make her feel, makes me want to hold more than just her hand at this moment.

I don’t quite understand why I felt like this, but I had to distract myself from it before I did or say something that I shouldn’t. “Um- plus, I wanted to show you this,” I say, letting go of her hand and dipping mine into the river. The second my hand makes contact with the water the parts that rush against it glow a bright blue. Y/n gasps, amazed just as I assumed she’d be.

She sticks both her hands in the water, watching as the rushing water turns blue at her contact. I decide to talk to her about it, maybe I’d appeal to her interest in Pandora, maybe I’d impress her, “The scientists told me that it’s called-”

“Bioluminescent algae?”

“Yeah,” I smile. “It’s really rare to see in the forest so I thought you would find it interesting.”

“This is so cool,” she mumbles, her focus more on the algae than my words. I didn’t mind much though, I honestly found it almost adorable how she ran her hands through the water, how a smile strained at her face, and her eyes stayed trained on the water.

“You can swim in it if you want to,” I tell her, drawing her attention back to me. “It makes your skin look like it's glowing, it’s cool.”

An expression mixed with excitement and defeat crosses he features, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Her ears lower as she looks back down at the water, “It’s embarrassing. You will make fun of me.”

I roll my eyes, “You know I would never do that. C’mon tell me.”

She rolls her eyes herself before mumbling, “I can’t swim.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t swim!”

A small laugh slips my lips, “Seriously?”

Her bottom lip pokes out in a pout, “Hey, you said you wouldn’t make fun of me!”

I bit my bottom lip keeping myself from smiling, “I’m not making fun of you I just.. am surprised. How old are you again?”

She rolls her eyes at me before speaking in a mocking tone, “Ha ha.”

I laugh at her childish behavior, “I mean like why not?”

“Well I grew up in a lab, swimming lessons weren’t on the list of important topics.”

“Ohhh that makes sense.. if thats why then you shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Well I am,” she huffs.

Another small laugh escapes my lips, “Don’t worry I will teach you.” She smiles for a moment before it slightly falters and her attention is back on the water. “What is it?” I ask, noticing her change in emotion.

“Do you actually think I will get to stay here for you to be able to teach me?”

“Y/n,” I sigh, reaching to hold her hand again. My hold brings her attention back to me, her eyes glassy again. “You need to stop worrying about this.”

Her bottom lip pokes out again, “But if your dad says I can’t stay then you won’t be able to teach me how to swim. And- and you won’t be my friend anymore and I-”

“Shhh,” I stop her before she can get too carried away with her overthinking. “You aren’t going anywhere, Y/n.”

“How do you know that?” she asks, bringing her other hand out of the water to wipe away her single tear that had fallen despite smudging more water across her cheek.

“Remember when you first visited the village? When you had to go speak with my grandmother?”

“Mhmm,” she hums, nodding her head.

“Well, as Tsahik, my grandmother speaks the will of Eywa herself. She would not have said yes to your request had Eywa been against it.”

“But it’s not Mo’at or Eywa that I am worried about.. it’s your dad.”

I squeeze her hand and sigh, not exactly knowing how to comfort her. “My dad can’t reject the will of Eywa, whatever she has planned will happen. So don’t worry about what my father says, okay?”

“But what if it’s in Eywa’s will for me to not stay here longer than I have. What if this is only temporary and she wants me to go back to the RDA?”

“Then we will deal with that then, okay? As of now my father is giving me the chance to prove you are innocent in this entire situation.”

Her ears peak, “He is? How come?”

“Because I know you didn’t do anything wrong. And I’m not letting anything happen to you or your brother, not as long as I’m around and have a say. I promise you that.”

Her reaction is unexpected. After seeing her pretty warm smile I had expected a simple ‘thank you.’ Half of any of my thoughts cut off when the girl throws herself against me in a hug. I am quick to catch her, my arms wrapping around her waist as hers wrap around my neck. 

She holds me tightly, her head buried so far against my neck that I can feel the smile her lips form against my skin. She moves her face back just enough to mumble out a ‘thank you’ before it rests against me again.

“You’re welcome,” I told her, my head leaning on her shoulder. This hug was different than the last, she wasn't clinging to me in sadness, no this was joy. Joy that’s so grand that I feel it seep from her skin, penetrating my emotions until I can’t help but feel joyful as well.

I squeeze her in my arms, my head mindlessly moving closer to her neck similarly to how she had. The action consumes my senses with an intoxicating smell that I connected to her. A sweet smell I had not encountered since that day I carried her back to the village, one that I crave to smell more.

Luckily for me the girl didn’t seem to have any intention of moving soon, so I pulled her the smallest bit closer, basking in her touch, the way she rested against me, and her smell. I close my eyes in content, this moment is perfect, one I never wanted to leave and would certainly think about later.

What is it about this girl that makes me want to stay in her presence forever?

Our hug lasted longer than the last, so long that I began to think that exhaustion from her breakdown had lulled her to sleep in my arms. Much to my momentary disappointment, the hug does eventually end when a glow of light from behind my closed eyes annoys me until I am forced to open my eyes. The sight is enough to make a slight gasp escape my lips.

One atokirina. It floats before my eyes, close to Y/n’s shoulder. I move my face back from off her shoulder despite the way that Y/n’s head still leans against me. In the absence of my head the atokirina lands on her shoulder.

I gently shake her arm, “Y/n.. Y/n look.”

“Hm?” she hums, finally pulling her head away from my shoulder to look up at me. A hand comes up to rub her eye, maybe she really had fallen asleep.

“Your shoulder,” I whisper. “Look.”

She does what I say, looking at her shoulder before her jaw instantly drops, “Woah.”

“It’s an atokirina.”

She looks up at me and I think she is going to ask me something but a rustling in the trees distract us. We both turn towards the sound, anticipating an animal or maybe even a person, but instead we are met with a bunch of atokirina gently falling from trees.

Totally amazed by the sight before her, Y/n pulls away from me. I can’t help but watch as she makes her way to the center of the clearing, her head tilted up as she watches the atokirina fall towards her.

The moment they begin to land on her a soft giggle escapes her mouth as she turns to me. I can’t help but smile back as I stand and make my way over to her.

Though I stand before her only a few atokirina land on me unlike Y/n whose body is almost completely covered in the glowing forms. I reach up and let one of the woodsprites land on my hand before bringing it to Y/n’s face. 

I watch carefully as the atokirina hops from my hand onto her face. It makes her giggle again. “That tickles,” she whispers as the woodsprite moves softly against her cheek. My mind bursts with understanding as more atokirina land on her face. At this very moment Eywa was confirming the fact that Y/n did in fact belong here whether she believed it or not.

I am pulled out of my thoughts when one more atokirina lands on the last open space on her, her nose. She sneezes and they all float off of her at once. She gasps, hand covering her mouth as they begin floating away, “Oh no, I didn’t mean to scare them.”

“It’s okay,” I laugh, unable to keep myself from smiling as she watches the woodsprites float away. “Do you know what that means?”

She looks back to me, shaking her head, “No.”

“Sit with me,” I say, dropping to sit in the middle of the clearing. She sits in front of me, so close that our knees press up against each other. “You know how  Eywa is connected to every living thing right?”

She nods, “And the energy keeping everything is only borrowed from her until death.”

“Right, well the atokirina are a bit different. They are like little pieces of Eywa herself moving as Eywa would.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion, “I don’t understand what this has to do with anything, Nete.”

I sigh thinking of a more specific way to phrase my words, “They reflect Eywa’s will. The atokirina landed on you. You belong, Y/n. Eywa just showed you that you have nothing to fear.”

A warm smile covers her face, “Really?”

I nod, “Yes, really. When I was young my mother told me of the time where the atokirina stopped her from killing my father back when she saw him as nothing more than a dream walker. They even covered him like they just did you!”

She lets out a small laugh, “You’re very excited about this.”

“I am! I’ve seen the atokirina move before but never in a way like this. The last time Eywa moved like that on behalf of someone who was not Na’vi the person became Toruk Makto and Olo’eyktan!”

“Alright now,” she says, a hand landing on my knee. “I am not going to be anything as grand as either of those names. But if what you are saying is true then I believe you.”

“So you will stop worrying so much?”

“I will try.. but I make no promises.”

“Good,” I smile before looking up. The sight of the sky brings something to mind. “I almost forgot,” I say looking back at her.

“What?”

“This clearing gives the perfect view of the stars at night,” I say pointing up.

She looks up, eyes shining from the light of the trees. “Woah,” she mumbles. I move to lay down on the ground, looking up at the sky. Y/n looks back down at me, “What are you doing?”

“Looking at the stars. It’s nice, lay with me.”

“Okay,” she says, moving to lay just a foot away from me. We both look upwards at the sky. It’s another quiet moment but it isn’t awkward, it’s comfy.

For a second there I began to believe it was so quiet because she had fallen asleep again. I turn my head against the grass to see but I don’t find her eyes closed from sleep, no. They are wide open, eyes seemingly darting from star to star as if she was trying to remember where each of them were placed.

My eyes trail to study her side profile; her long lashes, the perfect slope of her nose, the way her lips had a slight pout to them. The freckled designs on her skin take my attention next. I admire her unique designs, the way that she was the only person to have those specific marks although Noahs were very similar.

I found it interesting how they were brown and never glowed, but now that I see her in the dark of night I know that is not fully true. There’s a few of them that glow like mine, so little that if I took the time I could count them.

Part of me wanted to, wanted to count all the glowing marks on her face, and when I had that number memorized I’d count the ones on the rest of her body. I wanted to know the exact number, to kiss and trace her soft skin as I counted each spot so that I could remember it forever. 

She’d become so smitten with me recently, maybe she’d let me. Let me see her complete beauty, undiminished by her human clothes or any coverings at all. 

But that’d be too much to ask. Because even if she said yes, and I could have her, she’d be the only one I’d ever want. I’ve no clue where my infatuation with her began. Maybe it was her smell that’d got me hitched, it called me to her like an insect to pollen. Or maybe it started that first day I met her, when I saw that perfect smile.

I assume I will never truly know where or when it started, but I do know that as future Olo’eyktan I could not have her. At the end of the day, feelings set aside, I would have to be a leader someday. I’d need a Tsahik by my side. Y/n was learning how to climb through trees just two weeks ago and she isn’t even a part of the clan yet. To even dream of her possibly filling that spot would be wrong.

So as much as it made me want to gag and puke, I swallowed that truth. I would not have her because I know that’d I’d want to be the only one that ever could. I wouldn't want anyone else to know that special number of spots, or all the little things she loved. Whether anyone would realize it or not she’d be mine.

I couldn’t have that but I wouldn’t totally separate myself from her though, Eywa knows I couldn’t. Not now.

The past week she’s all I’ve thought about; memories of our momentary touches, her laugh, and her smell clouding my head until I broke and went to the lab, something I rarely do voluntarily. The only thing that stopped the thoughts was being in her room which smelt intoxicatingly like her, holding her in my arms over and over, and this moment right here, her laying on the grass in the dead of night beside me in the one place I vowed to never bring anyone.

I always thought that nothing could make this place more soothing, but having Y/n here has proved me wrong in so many ways. Being around her felt like an escape from all my worries, even when I was helping her with hers. Because although she thinks I am helping her, which I am, what she doesn’t realize is she’s simultaneously helping me too. 

That’s the reason why I will keep running back to her until the day that I am officially promised to another. I’ll keep holding her, and laughing with her. I’d share every part of me that I could because even though I know she can’t be mine, I fear I may already be hers

I turn my head back up to the night sky, pointing up to one of the brighter stars, “You see that star right there?”

“Mhmm,” she hums.

“That is where my dad came from.”

“Really?” she asks, her voice like a gentle song.

“Yeah, Norm told me it'd take 4.37 light years to get here from there. I don’t really understand how they travel with light, especially with all the machines they bring.” Y/n lets out a giggle, a sound that is so small but makes me turn my head to her again, “What?”

“They aren’t traveling with light,” she says, glimpsing at me before looking back up at the sky. “It’s just a measure of time since light moves so fast.”

“How fast?”

“About 186,000 miles per second. A light year is just a measure of how long it would take light to get somewhere when compared to the length of an Earth year.”

“365 days?” I recall, remembering some of the very few things I’d learned about Earth.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she smiles. “In the span of that many days light is able to travel almost 6 trillion miles. So they use that number to simplify how long it actually takes to get somewhere so far away. From Earth to here is like 26,000,000,000,000 miles away which means it would take thousands of years but with light years you can just say about four years even though it's much more.”

“You know a lot about this stuff.”

She nods, turning to face me, resting her head on her arm, “Learning was one of my hobbies for a while. I hyper focused on learning as much as I could because I had a feeling it’d be important someday even though I thought I’d never leave that lab. Now it kinda feels like useless information.”

“It’s not useless, there will be a use for it some day I’m sure. Was learning and jewelry-making your only hobby?”

“No, I had other sporadic hobbies that I would get over. A consistent one was watching this show that Norm sent Noah and I a file of, we still watch it together.”

“What is a show?”

“Um, do you know what just a plain video is?”

“Yeah?”

“Well a show is basically just a video but with plot.. like a story being told with a video. It’s pretty cool you should watch it with me someday.. if you want to of course.”

I smile at her uncertainty, “I would love to. Sounds interesting.”

She smiles back before turning to look up at the stars again, “Is star-gazing your hobby?”

“Yeah,” I say, turning to look at the stars as well. “I have a couple others but this is probably the most relaxing one.”

“I agree,” she yawns.

We fall into another long moment of silence. After a while though, it’s too silent. I look over and this time, instead of finding her gazing up at the stars, her eyes are closed and her face is tilted to the side as she sleeps.

She looks so peaceful, so unbothered by all the things going wrong in her life. It seems to be such a rare state for her to be in. I almost don’t have the heart to wake her up, but I’d prefer she sleep under her fluffy cloths I saw in her room than on the floor of the forest tonight.

“Y/n?” I say.

“Hmm?” she hums, turning her head fully against the grass and curling herself up towards me.

“I think we should walk back to the lab, okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbles, but she doesn’t move. She stays there, sleeping on the grass.

I laugh at her refusal to get up, gently shaking her with a hand on her waist. “Y/n.”

“Whaaat?” she grumbles, eyes flickering up to me.

“I’m gonna walk you back to the lab, c’mon.”

“Okay,” she mumbles again, but this time she stands with me.

The walk to the lab is just as nice as the walk to the spot, although a part of me feels bittersweet from the thought of having to be without her again. I walk her up the stairs of the lab, standing at the bottom as I watch her climb them. 

She turns back to me from the top platform. “Did you have fun?” I ask.

“Yes,” she smiles. “I really needed to get out and I almost forgot how fun you were to be around, so thank you.”

“Of course, anytime. You’re fun to be around too.” She smiles, before turning to open the door, but she freezes. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she answers, turning back to me. “Did you maybe want to watch that show thing I told you about with me?”

“Right now?”

Her face turns red as her eyes wander to the trees, “I mean yea, if you want to.. if not then-”

“Sure.”

Her eyes snap back to me, “Wait really?”

“Yeah,” I laugh.

“Oh okay,” she says, turning back to open the door. “C’mon.” I follow her through the lab all the way to her room. She closes the door behind her before moving to one of the pieces of furniture that holds clothes, “I’m going to change, you can lay on my bed if you want.”

“Okay,” I say as she walks over to another door in her room, entering the smaller room and closing the door behind her.

My gaze moves to her bed. The long surface is covered in cloths and fluffy things at the top. Spider had spoken to me about beds before, telling us that they were comfortable but of course making sure to emphasize the point that he loved the surfaces the na’vi slept on.

I question the unknown surface that I was expected to lay on. I start with pressing a knee onto the surface, surprised by how it sinks into the material. I move my hands to push against it watching how they sink into the seemingly solid material.

I crawl the rest of my way onto the bed, plopping myself down. I am amazed with the way it seems to support me, with the way the cloths are so soft, and of course how all of it smelled of Y/n. 

I moved to lay myself at the top of the bed, surprised that this thing could fit my entire height. I lay my head on one of the fluffy things at the top of the bed amazed by how it supports my head like the bed but was so soft. I grab the other fluffy thing beside me and hold it over my face, burying myself in the soft warmth of it.

A gentle laugh fills the air, “What the hell are you doing?”

I pull the thing away from my face and turn to look at Y/n who is laughing to herself, “What is this thing?”

She walks over to the bed, grabbing a rectangular device from the table beside it before crawling onto the bed herself, “My pillow?”

“I love your pillow,” I tell her, burying my face into it again.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s so soft and it smells like you,” I tell her, somehow she understands me despite the pillow

“What do I smell like?”

“Good.”

“Thanks,” she laughs. “Now can I get my pillow back?”

“Mhmm,” I hum into the pillow, before passing it over to her. She maneuvers it behind her, leaning her back against it.  I follow her action, sitting up to lean against the pillow behind me. She places the rectangle she had grabbed on her lap, “What’s that?” I ask.

“My laptop,” she tells me.

“What does it do?”

“It’s like one of those big computers Norm and Max have but,” she places it on my lap, “it goes on your lap. It’s what Noah and I watch our show on.”

“Ohhhh,” I say, tapping the top of it. “How does it work?”

She leans over and opens the top of it, “Like this.” The screen glows and a circle swirls in the center of the screen until Y/n moves the laptop in view of her face. Only then does it seem to give her access. She taps around before turning the laptop more to face me again, “We’re going to start on the first episode.”

“Okay?” I say, not even understanding what an episode was.

Y/n rolls over and pulls a string on the light beside her bed, leaving us in the dark except for the light of the screen. She taps a button and leans on my shoulder as the screen begins playing a tune and showing bright colored  beings that look so unrealistic. 

When the song ends the first thing that pops up is a blue being with ears like mine, it’s talking to orange fish with legs. “What the hell is this?” I ask her. “Is that blue thing mocking me?”

“What?” she says, tapping something on the device to make the show stop before looking up at me. I look down at her, folding my ears against my head, that seems to make her realize. “Oh god,” she says before busting out in laughter.

“Are you mocking me now too? This isn’t funny, Y/n.”

“No, no I’m not,” she says, although she keeps laughing. “He’s supposed to be a cat!!”

“A what?”

Y/n deeply inhales, composing herself before speaking again, “A cat is an animal from Earth, and this show was made long before humans learned about Pandora.”

“So this is not a mockery?”

“No,” she giggles. “Just a coincidence. Now, can we watch the show?”

“I guess,” I huff sarcastically. She smiles before playing the show again and dropping her head back to rest perfectly on my shoulder.

The show is pretty entertaining even though I struggle to understand half of what the odd looking characters are speaking about. I watched about five parts of the show before I realized that the girl resting on my shoulder had dozed off again.

I try to gently move her from off me with the full intention of leaving without disturbing her rest. My attempts fail though when the second I try to move her she stirs just enough to mumble out a ‘no.’

“What was that?” I ask, hands hovering over where they had just touched her.

“Please stay,” she practically whines in her sleepy state. Her words are enough to make my heart melt, but when her arms maneuver their way around my torso I feel all my insides melt.

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm,” she hums, head pushing against my arm. I take the gesture as a silent request for me to move my arm. I lift it, placing it behind her as her head finds a new resting place against my chest. “Please? ‘m comfy,” she mumbles again, barely fighting sleep just to hear my response.

“Okay,” I answer, bringing a hand up to push a few of her stray hairs away from her pretty face. “I will stay.”

I am able to spot the smallest sleepy grin that appears on her face before her soft voice elicits a small, “Yay.”

She’s quick to fall back asleep but I find it hard to feel the tiniest bit tired. Not because I had not wanted to sleep, but because of how hyperaware I am of the situation I've found myself in. 

I try to focus on the show that is still playing, seeing as I didn’t fully understand how to turn it off, but I am too distracted by the way that Y/n’s arms rest around me, or the way that her head would occasionally nuzzle further against my chest. I could feel and even hear the gentle rise and fall of her breathing against me.

I am surrounded by her; her touch, her smell, and her soft sounds. I disregard watching the show, opting to add the sight of her to my list. She looked so perfectly peaceful in this moment, thick lashes resting against her uniquely colored cheeks, her plump lips just barely parted.

I can’t stop the feeling of desire that rushes through me, I want to stay in this moment, or any of the other amazing moments I heard with her today, forever.

Realization is the next feeling that runs through me. The realization that maybe I was getting too attached to these moments, to this girl. The thought that should scare me, that I should avoid,  warms my body and quickens my heart rhythm to the point that I am surprised the loud thumping had not awoken her.

I am distracted from my realization as a soft hand trails up my torso, landing to press on my chest. “Y’okay, Nete? Heart’s fast..” she slurs and I feel bad for keeping her from resting for the third time today.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I reassure her, moving her hand to wrap around me instead of pressing against me in a way that felt almost too intimate. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Mmmk,” she hums, arm tightening back around me on their own as she falls back asleep.

As Y/n rests in my arms I can’t help but wonder how she would react if she knew that the very heart that had just woken her up was beating at the simple thought of her. Would she pursue that desire? Or would it scare her away from me?

It of course wouldn’t matter, I could never have her because I had a duty to fill. I was going to be Olo’eyktan and I would need to find a Tsahik so I could not pursue Y/n no matter how much I wanted to.

I constantly remind myself of this fact but for some reason I just can’t seem to care that much. For the first time in my life I have something to be selfish about and I can’t seem to make myself feel bad about it.

I’ve spent my entire life giving up what I wanted but in this moment, as I finally come to terms with the growing feelings I have for the girl in my arms, I decide that if I would ever ensure I got what I wanted.. I would get Y/n.

- - -

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I am sorry it took so long for me to update. A mix of school and personal life just got really stressful and I didn't have much time to write anything worth posting. I appreciate everyone who is intrested in my story but I don't think I will be able to post as frequently as I tried to in the begining. I started trying to post weekly but it began to feel like a chore and took the fun out of it and the product of that was really shitty writing. So, even though I will definetly try to avoid not posing for an entire month, my posting won't be scheduled. BUT I DEFINETLY WILL AVOID NOT POSTING FOR A WHOLE MONTH BECAUSE WHAT?! Anyway I hope you enjoyed the story and I promise I will try to post soon! - Mak <3

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[irellia]

give me a hot sec to pathetically gush over my favourite arcane scene and probably one of the best sequences of a tv show ever because the brainrot has set in too deep

I'm gonna try to be semi articulate and not just scream incoherently about the sheer flawlessness of every aspect of it so

the stunning, haunting visual manifestation of jinx's trauma and deep obsessive guilt / always carrying the family she's killed on her back like ghosts / the weight of her guilt and her inability to escape the past, living in that moment of loss and death forever... Claggor died instantly so his ghost on her back is expressionless. Quiet. Mylo is screaming in agony because a) his death was slow and painful, bleeding out on that floor feeling every explosion set off by jinx's bombs b) I think also because Mylo represents the negative voice in her head and claggor represents the more 'positive' and the negative always drowns out the positive inside of her. IMMACULATE. Haunting.

Match cutting Caitlyn and Vi sliding down that tunnel like bullets to the enforcers loading their rifles is a shiver inducing genius foreshadowing / metaphor

The little moment of Vi fucking losing it over that dude in her way, furiously shoving him away and flipping him off despite being in a frantic rush to get away (a tiny flicker of comedic relief because she's a FIRECRACKER) then looking up and seeing jinx's flare because of it. I'M ON MY KNEES somewhere in piltover crying screaming

WHEREVER YOU ARE LIGHT IT UP AND I'LL FIND YOU !!!!!!!! and jinx's desperate attempt to reach out to her sister. She's kept that flare tucked away in a box for YEARS hoping that one day it'll help her guide vi back to her. The later tragedy of them both wanting their sister back but both of them wanting the idealised version of the other... One of them stuck in the past the other diving head first into what is to come (slightly irrelevant but im a firm believer that enforcer vi is coming, if not next season, then s3)

Silco's blind rage and violence, thrashing around in furious disbelief, punching, kicking, screaming, stumbling back and collapsing onto the ground in his breathless fury!! STUNNINGLY portrayed.

The visuals, the music, the bouncing, throbbing pulse of its pace!! The massive outpouring of feelings (hope, desperation, rage, devotion...) This sequence serves as one of the best executed boiling points in a show that I have ever seen!!

The bridge scene! A throwback to the bridge scene on episode 1 and how it all began for the sisters! The terrifying finality of it, like, look at us. this is the world: there's them (under city) and us (piltover) and the gap can never be bridged. They've come FULL CIRCLE with this moment.

ALSO

because I'm pathetic

This