#i still think i should be able to do things

[braaaaain]

Sorry for fandom jacking the post, but this has been something that has been nagging at me about The Stormlight Archive. Sanderson was clever and made a fictional culture with an odd but natural seeming systemic sexism. Its gender roles were rearranged in a way that should feel alien, but he was able to present it in a way where you could feel how ever-present and baked in they were too the characters. It makes you feel like arbitrary gender roles were natural and forces you to think about the "natural" gender roles in your life.

The issue is that he doesn't really do this with other things, but still tries too. He's openly expressed the kind of fear detailed by OP, but still attempts to tackle it. This leads to a problem. His ability to portray sexism as systemic and pervasive makes it glaring that he portrays racism, homophobia, and transphobia as minor and individual.

A gay character tells another that he thinks gay men are forced to develope a sixth sense for each other because they have to hide from oppression, but the only instance of homophobia I can think of being portrayed is a microagression by Kaladin that is immediately addressed and forgotten.

And there were so many opportunities to portray it in a similar way. Like, ardents are legally genderless and can marry each other; what if the only way someone could legally pursue same sex attraction or be addressed as their correct gender is joining the ardentia. Have characters "helpfully" suggest the perfect devotery for Drehy to join, or even have Kaladin ask Dalinar to make a decree allowing ardents to serve in the military without even talking to Drehy.

I don't know, it just feels like this fear is forcing Branderson to try and have his cake and eat it, too when it comes to representation. It's not something that ruins the books, they are wonderful, but it does make me think of how they could have been just that little bit better.

been stewing on an analytical approach to fiction which I call "is this book afraid of me?" and in order to answer this question you determine how hard the book is trying to make sure you don't come after the writer on twitter

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 11

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut), uhh badly proofread Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: hii i know i know i promised this yesterday but i nearly had a panic attack so i couldn't, my bad. i'm good now! please enjoy this before paige's last game at XL :((

-

Before London

“So as everyone can see, here we have a list of statistics showing the viewership per video and definitely can see an increase from last year, content with Paige seems to do extremely well like we…”

Linda’s voice blends into the background sounds of cutlery and plates and chatter filling the dining hall. For some reason my boss thought an impromptu media team meeting was in order and showed up to College Park Center unannounced. She wanted to catch up on what sort of content attracted most viewership, and to evaluate what worked and what didn’t. I couldn’t have cared less - all I knew is I was doing a good job, fantastic even. I’m not sure why I had to sit through something I already knew just to have Linda reiterate it to me. It wasn’t like me to be resistant to a meeting, or to praise from my superior but I was far too distracted.

My eyes involuntarily keep travelling to the table on the far right where Paige was sitting with her teammates, voice echoing around the walls of the building. A sound I fear I might never get tired of. The blonde is leaning back on her chair, chugging water, biceps more prominent than usual after spending all morning in the weight room. I knew this because she had driven me to work, despite having time off saying she needed to lift. I knew it wasn’t in her schedule as I had, almost accidentally, memorised it. Still there she had been, outside my door with a hazelnut latte, always somehow the perfect temperature whenever she brought me my coffee order. I hated when it was too hot.

As if sensing me, her blue eyes shift from Arike to me, locking with my gaze. Immediately I blush, trying to hide the smirk growing onto my face. But I can’t, so I cover my mouth with my hand to hide it from the team, particularly Linda, Paige’s mouth twisting into a bright smile in response. Yet we don’t break eye contact, keeping our eyes on each other.

Linda had been surprisingly credulous to my claims of a migraine when I missed work just a couple days ago. Since the night the blonde turned my entire world on its head. I hadn’t been able to think of anything ever since except the weight of her lips on my skin, her eager touch and starved eyes. I had been craving her every second since we drove back to Dallas. I needed more. As much as it pained me to admit.

With a grin on her face, Paige grabs her phone and types for a while, my screen lighting up with a notification.

Paige

Did i say how beautiful you look today yet

I blush, tapping underneath the table.

You did. A few times in the car.

Matter of fact she had been repeating it between sentences, and almost crashed the car twice because of how badly she had been staring.

Gotta tell you again

Takin my breath away all the way from over there

Finest girl I swearrrrr

I can’t help but smile.

You look like you’re breathing fine 🙄

I lift my gaze, seeing the blonde rubbing her chest and looking at her phone with a smirk.

Trust me ma

What Linda doin here?

Some sort of unnecessary meeting, I’m not sure why.

What time you getting off work?

I have a couple things to do after this but if you’re done you can go home, I’ll take a cab.

Fuck no i’ll wait

I could do some stretchin

You should join me

I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head to myself.

Paige!!

What??? Would be good for those tense muscles yk

Could think of sum other stuff to relax you too 😏😏

With a scoff I glance at the blonde who’s already looking with a playful, devilish grin. I look at her scoldingly, watching as she raises her brows and bites her lower lip to kill the smile before pointing at her phone, showing me she wants me to reply.

Why do I have an idea of what that might be?

Yeah? 

“So what do you think Izara?” Linda asks, snapping me back to reality.

“Uhh… Of?” I murmur, placing my phone screen down onto the table, thighs burning with the memory of how good the blonde had made me feel just a few days before.

“Do you think we can reach our goal followers-wise or are we being too ambitious?”

I quickly pull myself together, though I’ve barely heard a word. “Certainly if we keep pumping out content every day.” I don’t actually even know what goal we’re talking about.

However, my answer satisfies Linda, her mouth twisting into a smile. “Excellent!”

“Excuse me,” I hum, getting up from the table to grab an extra bottle of water. Paige, who has been watching, does the same, unable to not take advantage of the opportunity to talk to me.

I feel a gentle bump on my arm, eyes immediately snapping to the girl who’s looking smug as I eye the bottles.

“Hey pretty girl,” she whispers, placing a hand on my lower back. I quickly glance back at the media team to make sure no one was looking. To my relief they’re all too busy leaning in to stare at Trey who’s showcasing our latest content on his phone.

“Hey you,” I reply, my voice soft, quiet so no one can hear. Paige stands behind me, eyes skimming the different bottles of drinks as if mulling over her decision on what to get. But I know better. She’s stalling to stay talking to me. We had barely had any time to spend alone, my mind too busy wrapped up with work, Paige spending every waking moment on the court trying to get her shot back.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, reaching over for the bottle and holding it in my hand. Paige thinks for a second, grabbing a bottle of gatorade. All I can do is stare at her hands, mesmerised. Perfect hands that made me feel so incredible.

“Uhh nothing, why?”

“I’m coming over.”

Paige’s ears turn red, as she clears her throat, the idea immediately getting the younger girl flustered.

“Y-Yeah okay Iz,” she whispers, voice trembling a little. The effect I have on the girl makes me smile. It pleased me to know I had so much power over her. Little did she know she held just as much power over me, I was just much better at hiding it. However, my cheeks turn a hint of pink thinking about the possibilities of what might happen once we get a moment alone.

“Okay Paige,” I smile, eyes stuck on her flushed face. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

-

Waiting a couple hours had turned out to be much harder than I had planned, the thought of Paige’s hands on my body enough to have me growing wet in a matter of minutes. I couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer to feel the younger girl on me. Paige had felt the same, which had led us to our current predicament, my back pushed against the door of the storage room, the girl kissing my neck feverishly as my hands roam her body. The door handle digs into my lower back painfully but I barely notice.

“Paige,” I whimper, but she silences me with a heated kiss, tongue slipping past my lips into my mouth. My kisses are needy, desperate, a quiet moan spilling out when Paige’s hand kneads my ass, my short skirt hiking up as she does.

“You’re so sexy ma,” the blonde groans, lips glistening as she pulls back to look at me. “Killing me in a skirt like that.”

“Wore it for you,” I tease. Paige melts, moaning just from my words.

My arms wrap around her shoulders as I pull her back into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss by her hair. The blonde groans, lifting my skirt to squeeze the bare skin underneath, eyes opening to see the purple silk panties I was wearing. I hadn’t been prepared for the first time we slept together the way I liked to be, but after a meeting with my wax lady and a vigorous exfoliation routine last night I was prepared for her, my skin silky and smooth all for her from my head to my toes.

“Look at that,” she whispers, pulling back enough to admire the underwear sitting against my golden skin. “Goddamn.”

“Want you,” I hum, looking at her with round, pleading eyes. Paige takes a deep breath through her nose, groaning as she throws her head back. I know I’m driving her insane.

“We can’t,” she mumbles, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. I’m taken back, slightly embarrassed. I never thought she’d reject me.

“Why not?”

Paige notices the surprise in my face, her blue eyes widening. “No, I want to. So fucking bad, you got no idea baby,” she starts, looking me up and down.

“Then what’s the problem?” I ask, getting annoyed which in turn makes my brows furrow.

“Iz I can’t just keep sleeping with you,” she sighs. “You’re more than that. You deserve more.”

I shake my head, pulling Paige back in by her sweaty T-shirt. She kisses me softly, nuzzling her nose into mine.

“I don’t care. I want you,” I repeat, the ache between my thighs nearly unbearable.

“I care,” the girl whispers, resting her forehead on mine. “Need to take you out on a date before we… y’know.”

I’m surprised, my eyes fluttering open.

“Need to do this right Izzie,” she hums, kissing the top of my head. “Need to take you out before I do all the things I’ve been dying to do to you.”

I nearly collapse at her words, grateful for the strength of her grip on my hips.

“Oh,” I say, feeling the blonde pull my skirt back down hesitantly.

“Please, lemme treat you right ma,” she pleads, kissing both my cheeks softly. “Lemme take you out. Been dying to, ever since I saw you. Please.”

-

Taking a deep breath, I look at my reflection in the mirror once more. White shorts and a white oversized button up, both neatly pressed not a single wrinkle on them. I’ve really gotten tan here. I lean closer to add the signature diamond studs onto my ears, smoothing over the hair slicked back into a low bun. I check my nails one more time, making sure each one is short and filed up to my standards. No, not mine. Up to Izzie’s standards. I look good, I wanted everything to be perfect for her. For my gorgeous, perfect London girl.

I grab the huge bouquet of white lilies and head downstairs, toying with my silver chain as I knock on the door. I don’t remember the last time I had been nervous over a girl before Izzie. So much for my plans to stay celibate this season. Like clockwork, the door opens.

I feel breathless when I see her. She’s wearing a bronze coloured satin dress, the perfect contrast against her skin, with spaghetti straps and a slightly plunging neckline, her breasts on display just enough to make me wanna look for a little too long. The dress isn’t too tight, clinging to her curves in all the right places, the hem ending at her calves. Her skin glows from her arms decorated with gold bracelets, all the way down to her calves and feet, beautifully arched in matching sandals. Izzie looks stunning, glowing with the power of a hundred suns.

I let out a low whistle, unsure what to say. I feel flustered, nervous in front of her. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time all over again, two months ago in this same hallway. 

“Whoa,” is all I can say, my palms sweating already.

Izzie giggles and then she does something I’ll never get over. She simply tilts her head, sharp eyes sparkling at me, slender fingers reaching over and fixing the collar of my shirt. And my knees nearly buckle.

“We don’t need to go out,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss the girl. But she tuts softly, pulling back and placing two fingers on my chin to stop me sternly.

“Lipgloss,” she grins, pushing my face back by my jaw playfully. “And yes we do, took me three hours to get ready.”

I can see that, every strand of her black hair carefully set in uniform waves running down her back. All I can do is stare at her, mouth open.

“Paige?” Izzie giggles.

“What?” I ask, cheeks bright red.

“The flowers?”

I glance down at the bouquet in my hand, handing them to the girl. “Oh yeah, these are for you,” I laugh awkwardly, nearly unable to look the girl in the eye.

“I love lilies,” she gleams, inhaling their scent and humming contentedly.  

“I know, you told me,” I smile, stepping in as she turns her back on me to put the flowers in a vase. My eyes travel from her hair downwards to the curve of her ass just for a moment, fighting the urge to pull up the hem and dive between her legs. I quickly glance up, trying to keep myself in check. Date first. Be respectful.

“You remembered,” Izzie smiles to herself, setting the flowers onto her dining table. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

The girl turns to me, throwing her hands around my shoulders and kissing me lovingly. 

“What about your lipgloss?” I mumble against her lips, one hand on her lower back, the other on her neck pulling her in.

“I’ll reapply,” she sighs. I loved the way she was, meticulous and disciplined. But my God did I adore the way she had loosened up around me, the way she seemed to have a newfound ease about her. How she arrived to work yesterday wearing pants and flats, giggling with her co-workers lightheartedly, the pearls of her laughter echoing around every room she entered. 

“Shit,” I pull back from the kiss with a struggle. “I got us a car baby, we should go.”

Iz whines in a way that pulls at my heartstrings, her brows furrowing in desperation, tracing her fingers up and down my arms, squeezing my biceps that had grown exponentially during my time in the league.

“You look so gorgeous,” Izzie hums, smoothing over my collar one last time, leaning close and pressing a kiss onto my collarbone. My eyes flutter shut momentarily.

“C’mon,” I sigh. “If we don’t go now we ain’t ever gon leave.”

-

“Paige,” I gasp as she opens the car door for me and I realise where we are. 

“What? You like?” The blonde grins, offering her hand to help me out and watching my face for approval. I step onto the pavement, wrapping my arm around hers as we walk into the building, the doorman letting us in with a polite smile. We step into the gorgeous, high-end restaurant, Paige smoothly letting the hostess know that we had arrived. 

I had mentioned Monarch countless times in conversation, brought up how the customer from Dallas that left an irrevocable mark on me made me swear to dine there at least once in my life. It was on the pricier side, and I’d grown used to a certain lifestyle which my current pay couldn't maintain so I had been burning through my savings - it simply wasn’t in the budget. Except now, with this millionaire girl on my arm I suppose it did. Truthfully, I would’ve been happy with less. But I won’t lie that she really hit the nail on the head with this one. I mean she listened. Remembering my brother’s name, my favourite flower, now this? She really listened to me. I didn’t know it could be like this.

“Paige,” is all I can mutter out with a happy sigh, my mouth twisting to a smile. Paige tugs at her silver chain absentmindedly, her eyes flickering around the room before always landing back on me.

I slide myself into the booth, Paige following behind me, making me laugh.

“Paige, your plate is on that side,” I giggle, pointing to the set cutlery opposite of me. 

“I’ll ask em to move it over here,” she mumbles, her arm snaking around my waist and pulling me close so my side presses into hers, the pressure of her thigh on mine.

“Isn’t that gonna look a little silly?” I chuckle, watching as Paige reaches over the table and moves her entire table arrangement next to mine. I blush, looking around hoping no one noticed. This was a nice place. I could tell it wasn’t the blonde’s scene. Something about that made this even more endearing. It was all for me.

“Ion care if it does, it’s too far from you,” she whines, entangling her fingers with mine underneath the table. My eyes land on her blue ones, her face only a few inches from me. Paige licks her lips, her gaze flickering to my lips. I feel a familiar ache between my thighs return just from the sheer proximity of the blonde, and the smell of her cologne.

“Wanna kiss you so bad right now,” she whispers, both our breathing growing heavy. I nod, wanting the same. But we both knew it was better not to. After Luka was traded out of Dallas Paige was one of the biggest athletes in the entire city. A household name easily. We weren’t just sneaking around behind Linda’s back, we had to keep this on the low from the whole world. It’s not like we had to talk about it - we both knew it.

“Gotta wait,” I hum, jumping slightly as the waiter interrupts the moment, looking to take our orders. Paige, in her American manner, orders multiple side dishes and salads for us to share, the table filled with Wagyu Carpaccio and Octopus. But the real star of the night is the lamb, which the customer made me swear to get if I ever ended up at Monarch.

“Oh my Gosh,” I groan quietly, letting the meat melt into my mouth. I smooth the napkin on my lap, the luxurious linen smooth underneath my palm. Taking a sip of my Merlot, I notice Paige beside me, cutting the gorgeous lamb into multiple bite-size pieces before putting the knife down and beginning to eat with the fork. I watch, astonished, amused and embarrassed at the same time.

“You are so American,” I laugh, swallowing the wine and covering my mouth. The younger girl turns to me, confused.

“Whatchu mean?” She giggles but I eye her plate, rolling my eyes.

“Can you not eat with a fork and a knife at the same time?” I ask, raising my brows. Paige huffs, though the small curl a the corner of her mouth tells me she’s basking in my slightly condescending tone, the scolding lilt of my voice.

“Guess you’ll have to teach me your fancy English ways huh?”

“Oh my Gosh,” I sigh amused.

“The fork is in the wrong handddd,” she complains, continuing to eat, fork on the right hand. I make a mental note to teach her table manners before she meets my parents. Then, realising that she never would, decide to stay quiet. This is just a fling, a summer romance at most. A rebound - it’s what I tell myself to ease the slight panic in my chest when I thought more about what the end of the season would bring, me going back home to London, leaving my American girl here. My one summer in Dallas, cruel and much too short. Just a few months is all we’d ever get. Against my nature, I try not to worry about it, hoving the anxiety to some deep, dark corner of my mind, under all the other things I didn’t want to deal with.

The moment I notice my glass is empty, the blonde is already reaching for the jug of water and pouring me some. I watch closely, heart fluttering with affection.

-

Dinner is amazing, a dream come true. The food, of course, delicious. But even better is the satisfied smile on the dark haired girl’s face. The way her eyes gleamed every time she looked at me. The sound of her sweet laughter whenever I did anything she redeemed “American”. The slightly condescending manner with which she corrected my table manners, praising me every time I did something right. Every cell in me wanted to please her. Hear more of her “good job” and “that’s it”. Feel the hand on my shoulder squeezing, affirming her words. I was ecstatic, even more so knowing that this was just the first of many dates. That I would get to take Izara out for years to come, hear her praises forever if I played my cards right. And I desperately wanted this to be forever. I know I was going way too fast. But I couldn’t help my mind from picturing her in a white dress, playing with our children, waiting for me at home after practice.

“I’m so full,” Izzie sighs, leaning back against the booth and rubbing up and down my arm affectionately. “You did so good with this darling.”

I melt, my eyes nearly rolling back at her praise, never mind the pet name.

“Lemme order you some dessert,” I nearly whine, my plate finished much earlier than Izara’s.

The girl leans over and checks the dessert menu, quickly skimming it over and scrunching her face.

“You too full baby?”

“Could we just go out and get some ice cream from a stand?” The girl asks, her green eyes fluttering at me. How could I ever say no?

“You sure? They got some nice dessert here. Fancy,” I ask, flipping the menu over in my hand. I wanted the girl to have whatever she wanted. I wanted to give her the entire world.

Izzie nods, placing her hand on my thigh. “Don’t want fancy, just want some ice cream.” I’m surprised, thinking the fancier the better. Maybe I was wrong.

-

The Dallas night is still as hot as the day, but there’s a pleasant breeze in place of the scorching sun from earlier. Izara looks even more beautiful in the glow of the city lights and under the twinkling night sky. I can’t tear my eyes away, nearly running into a pole from staring at her so much.

“Could I taste yours?” Izzie asks, handing me her chocolate ice cream cone. Wordlessly, without hesitation, I give her my strawberry cone, honestly ready to turn around and order five more of them for her.

I watch closely as Izara’s tongue darts out to taste the ice cream, a jolt running down my spine to my core, with dirty thoughts flooding my mind.

“Mmh, this is delicious,” she murmurs.

“Take it,” I say without hesitation. Izzie hums, accepting my offer quickly. Almost as if she expected it. Something about it drove me wild.

We walk around the city, hand in hand, easily blending in with the crowd, not worrying about familiar faces, making sure that with every turn I was walking on the street side, keeping her safe. I felt proud walking side by side with Izara, knowing that people walking by knew she was all mine. That I got a girl like this, far from my league. I wanted everyone to know that she’s mine - having to keep this hidden would turn out to be much harder than I imagined. Still, the idea of this being our little secret felt exciting.

The breeze and the ice cream cause goosebumps to form all over Izzie’s arms, a slight chill running through her. I curse myself in my head for not bringing a sweater, making a mental note to never go anywhere without one for her from now on.

“You ever miss London?” I ask, pulling her closer by her waist out of the way of someone walking by.

“No,” she quickly replies, surprisingly bluntly. I’m taken aback.

“Not at all?”

Izzie shakes her head. “Too many bad things in London.”

I immediately understand what she means. Jasper. At least the desperate phone calls had seemed to stop.

“You really don’t miss anything?”

The dark haired girl thinks for a while. “Well, I miss the chocolate. Nothing here tastes like Cadbury.”

We walk around, eager to finish the chocolate ice cream Iz ordered, but I slow down, trying to match the pace with which she’s eating out of politeness. My blue eyes roam her face, trying to memorise each little detail. Her dark, perfectly arched brows, long lashes darkened with mascara, plump lips with only a hint of the lipstick from earlier, fading from eating the ice cream. Her dark curls stick to her neck, desperate to escape the carefully shaped waves, golden necklace dangling at her collarbone. I reach over, my cold fingers making the girl jump when they adjust the clasp, dragging against her skin from the base of her neck to the back.

We come to a stop, Izara’s green eyes lined with black glimmering, her face turning different colors as ads flash red, blue, green on a screen by the sidewalk. The words spill from between my lips faster than I can think, let alone stop myself.

“I really like you Iz,” I murmur, looking into the girl’s eyes. “I mean, I think I’m fallin’ for you.”

Her breath hitches, eyes softening only for a moment, and then widening. With surprise? With panic? I’m not sure. I wouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t something you said on a first date. I wanted to smack the back of my own head for that. I quickly look up, in a momentary prayer hoping God would let me rewind just 20 seconds. But no one answers my request.

“Shit, I’m sorry if it’s too much. You don’t gotta say anything okay?” I tell Izzie, avoiding her gaze.

“It’s okay love,” she smiles, thumb brushing against my skin comfortingly. However, I see a hint of hesitation on her face. “But Paige I thi-”

“Look, let’s just forget I said that aight?” I ask, my chest aching, begging to God I didn’t just ruin this before it could even start.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, trying to comfort me. But I could tell she felt uneasy about something. “I think we just gotta remember that we need to be really careful about this, yeah?”

I sigh nodding. She’s right. “Yeah.”

“I mean the stakes aren't the same for you and me. If we get caught,” she starts, letting out a heavy breath. “I’ll be back in London in no time. You however would be completely fine.”

I nod, wanting the girl to know I was really hearing her out. “Gon be really careful okay?”

“No slip ups.”

“No ma’am,” I answer reassuringly.

“And you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Not Arike, not Lou, no one. They can’t know.”

“I agree,” I tell the girl. “Look, I meant what I said. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be.”

The girl smiles, for a moment I think there’s a hint of sadness there, but it’s gone just as fast as it appeared. “Today’s been… amazing.”

I bite my lower lip, hand coming to her lower back just for a moment. There was nothing in this world that felt as good as hearing her praise. Maybe winning the national championship. Top two things I’ve ever experienced.

“Wanted it to be special for you, Iz,” I hum, blushing a little. Just as she’s about to answer, her phone rings.

“It’s Trey,” she murmurs. Of course it is. I can’t help but roll my eyes, watching as she raises the phone to her ear and answers. That’s how we walk back to the car, the girl next to me talking animatedly on the phone about whatever, my irritation growing with each moment. I knew they were friends. But everytime she giggled or laughed at whatever the man on the phone was saying, my jaw clenched and breathing grew heavier.

“Okay, Trey I really must go. I’ll see you in a couple days,” Izzie, who had been trying to politely end the call, says. I hear Trey’s defiant protests all the way from the driver’s seat, making me want to grab the girl’s phone and hang up for her.

Iz laughs politely at whatever he said. “Treeyy, I’ll talk to you about this at work okay? Alright, bye now.”

Finally, she hangs up.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it might be about work but he was just calling to explain about some sort of couch he was considering getting,” Iz chuckles, finally turning her gaze to me.I feel my annoyance settle down the moment her eyes land on me. Having her attention just had the effect of soothing me. Still, it bothered me that the girl was so oblivious to Trey’s obsession with her. I sigh, chewing on the inside of my cheek. 

“What?” Izzie asks, noticing my irritation as we sit in the parked car.

“You know he likes you, right?”

Izara rolls her eyes. “Don’t start with that again.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

I turn to her, raising my brows. “You prolly don’t see it but I do. He’s always calling or texting you, following you around or tryna touch you. All the time. He obsessed, trust.”

Izzie scoffs, turning to me. “I think you’re just reading into it too much.”

I shake my head. “He likes you.”

She looks like she's about to get defensive, but then her face softens. “Well, even if he does, I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” I ask, my voice growing needy.

“No darling,” she hums quietly, reaching over and placing her dainty hand on mine. “I couldn’t care less about Trey.”

My heart flutters, the warmth in my chest spreading all over my body, chills forming underneath her touch. All the frustration and annoyance that had been growing are replaced with affection now that I feel reassured

“Yeah?” I ask carefully, nearly flinching at how whiny it comes out.

Izzie smiles, leaning over the center console and kissing my cheek. I catch a whiff of the pear and lavender notes of her perfume, my head spinning.

“Yeah.”

I lean over too, my lips finally crashing against hers, both hands holding her face gently like a baby bird, doing everything in my power not to disrupt her. Her lips taste like strawberries, and a hint of red wine from dinner. The wine had loosened Izzie up, her body turning into putty in the passenger seat just from one kiss. 

Her hands wrap around my neck, scratching at the back of my neck to pull me impossibly closer. I groan, arousal growing quickly between my thighs. A passing car honks, reminding me of our surroundings and the fact that the windows were not tinted. At the sudden realisation, I pull back abruptly, wiping my lips. 

Izzie looks breathless, cheeks flushed and lips parted and glossy. 

You wanna come to mine, ma?” I ask, or rather plead. The thought of getting to bring her home after had been the only force to give me the strength to keep my hands to myself all night.

“Yes,” she simply exhales. I feel a thrill, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to head towards our home, my hand never leaving her thigh, mind filled with the thoughts of lifting the skirt and diving into her.

-

My chest heaves as we climb the stairs, Izara’s heels tapping against the marble and echoing in the corridor. As I open the door, I let the dark-haired girl in, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

“Whoa,” she gasps. Stepping inside after her, I watch her face brighten as a trail of red rose petals on the floor leads all the way to the bedroom, just as I had set them before picking her up.

I step closer, pressing my front against her back, leaning down to kiss her neck as my hands find their position on her waist. I loved that even in heels she was a few inches shorter than me. Her body melts into me quickly, the curve of her ass pressing into my hips. The satin is smooth and cool under my fingertips, and her neck smells like her perfume and the fruity hair products she uses. Guava?

“You did this?” she asks, her voice gasping as my lips glide against her neck, feeling for her pulse under my kisses. 

Finally, I find the steady beating on the side of her long neck, my lips wrapping around it and sucking. Izzie exhales softly, her hands finding mine at her waist.

“Mhmm,” I hum, nuzzling my nose into her ear before kissing it feverishly. I needed her so desperately, like I had been travelling the desert for days and finally found an oasis filled with fresh water and sweet fruit and cool shade. I’m surprised I’m even able to stand upright.

“Oh so you knew I’d be coming over? That’s how you see me?” Her voice is stern, sending a jolt through my body. It makes me want to get on my knees and apologize, repent.

“N-No baby, I mean I was hopin’ but I didn’t assume. Iz, I swear I don-”

I’m joking, Paige,” she laughs, craning her neck to look into my face, an amused smile on her lips. My cheeks turn red as I laugh at myself.

I walk the girl forward, following the rose petals into the bedroom. They reach the bed, the white sheets decorated with the flower petals as well. Izara looks around, a smile on her face. I feel the ache between my thighs grow knowing I had made her happy.

Before I can say anything, she flips around to face me, kissing me heatedly. Her mouth is wide open against mine, tongue circling mine and fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Lemme light the candles,” I hiss, furrowing my brows and trying to pull away. But Izzie pulls me in by my collar, kissing me again.

“Fuck the candles,” she murmurs and, to my surprise, walks me backward into the bed.

I crash onto my back, Izzie pushing me down by my chest. “Let me dim the lights,” she says, but I grab her hand.

“Please don’t,” I whisper, my brows furrowing. “Wanna see you baby.”

She hesitates for a moment, but I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it gently. “Please.”

Izzie pulls her hand back, convinced by the simple gesture, and reaches behind her back to her zipper. She unzips the dress far too slow, driving me insane. I wanted her now. So I whine, furrowing my brows and squirming on the bed, but the girl only shakes her head, slipping one strap off her shoulder. I nearly pass out.

“Patience,” Iz tells me, her voice low and gravelly. I can’t look away, wetting my lips with my tongue as I watch the second strap fall from her shoulder, the dress finally hitting the floor.

“Oh shit,” I murmur to myself, my boxers growing wetter and wetter the moment I realise she wasn’t wearing a bra at all, her body only covered with black lace panties. My gaze is stuck on her chest though, her round breasts covered in goosebumps. Breathing heavy, I sit up, mouth watering to wrap my lips around her hard nipple, to knead the skin.

“Nuh uh,” Izzie snaps, pushing me back down onto my back. I feel a thrill, surprised to find how much this turned me on. I was so used to being the one in charge, I didn’t even know how insanely hot it would be for the dark haired girl to be giving me commands. Though, in hindsight, I probably should have known from the way my core throbbed everytime she demanded something from me.

“Iz,” I groan, watching as her nimble fingers begin to unbutton my shirt, painfully slowly. I feel like I might pass out.

“Remember what I said baby,” she hums, straddling my hips, thighs becoming even thicker on both sides of me as she sits down on them. Izzie leans down, lips hovering over my ear, hot breath tickling it. “Patience,” she whispers, and then ghosts my skin, leaving me writhing.

Finally she pulls my shirt open, revealing the white sports bra underneath. Her long nail drags from my neck downwards, to my chest, and finally to the muscles of my abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whine, watching the way her eyes darken as she gazes down at me. My hands come to her hips, easily reaching over to knead her ass. To my relief, she lets me, exhaling heavily and throwing her head back as I feel her skin. My hands feel up her sides, to her breast, kneading them in each hand and bucking my hips to look for any relief on my soaked core.

My chest heaves vigorously, right hand dragging downwards, down the skin of her stomach, fingertips dipping into the band. I needed to feel her. Now. I was dying, and I needed to make sure she didn’t feel like I did, desperate and throbbing.

“No,” Iz says, grabbing my wrist. I look at her pleadingly, eyes nearly welling up at the thought of how wet she might be.

“Please,” I whine. “Ride my fingers ma.”

Izzie’s eyes flutter shut at this, but sternly, she shakes her head. leaning down to kiss me. It’s sloppy, our tongues meeting in heated movements, spit covering both our mouths. The girl on top of me continues her open mouthed kisses, finding her way from my neck downwards. It’s then I realise what she’s about to do, the puddle between my legs growing unbearable.

I maneuver upward on the bed, too wet to notice the nervousness in the girl’s eyes when she starts kissing along the band of my shorts, hands coming to pull them down.

“Fuck ma,” I whimper, my entire body shaking with need. I had been dreaming of this moment, spent many hours lying in my bed with my hand between my legs imagining what her green, sharp, catlike eyes would look watching up at me.

She leaves me in my boxers, nails digging into my inner thighs as she spreads my legs apart.

“Please,” I murmur, eyes fluttering shut from how badly my cunt is soaking through the white boxers.

“What’s wrong my love?” Izzie asks, voice so sweet it’s bordering on condescending as she leans down between my legs, kissing my thighs, biting the skin. The wine had made her bolder, more liberated. It drove me insane.

“Need you baby,” I whine, bucking my hips. It’s no use, the dark haired girl’s hands holding my body still.

“What do you need from me darling?” She asks, fingertips playing with the band of my boxers in a way that made me want to flip her over and take her this very moment.

“Shit,” I hiss to myself, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Baby please. touch me. Gon’ die if you don’t.”

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

She’s pressing kisses on top of the soaked fabric of my boxers now, brushing lightly against my clit. I need more, so insanely bad. I feel like I might explode.

“Mhm,” I whimper, my voice shakier and needier than I liked - not that I cared much in this very moment.

“Tell me baby,” she smiles, looking up at my scrunched up face, slowly pulling down the last layer of fabric between her and where I needed her most.

“I-” I’m stuttering, overwhelmed, feeling like I might cum just purely from the sight. “Your mouth, mama, please.”

As I say the words, she pulls my boxers down, and begins to kiss around my wet cunt, everywhere but where I need her the most. Still, I’m moaning like crazy, knowing there must be a few concerned neighbours listening by now. I couldn’t care less.

Finally, the dark haired girl touches my clit, starting with small kitten licks. 

“That’s it, holy shit,” I gasp, hands coming down to her hair, trying to maintain the urge to yank it wherever I want her.

“Mhmm,” she moans against my core, lips wrapping around my clit and sucking gently. 

“Fuck, you’re so- holy shit,” I murmur, unable to think straight, legs already shaking, chest heaving uncontrollably. I can’t tear my eyes away from hers, as she looks up at me. my thighs on each side of her face.

“Taste so good,” she mumbles, a blush on her cheeks from the filthy words. Still, she keeps going, the vibrations of her moans bringing me closer and closer. Embarrassingly, it doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to start spreading in my abdomen, making my pussy throb around nothing as her tongue flicks back and forth in my folds.

“Make me feel so good, fuck baby, look at you,” I praise, my voice high pitched and whiny. “Look so fuckin’ pretty between my le- aw shit.”

I feel it, already growing hotter and hotter, the fire inside me making my muscles tense.

“I- I’m so cl-” I whimper, yanking on the girl’s hair.

“Baby,” Iz moans, wrapping her lips around my clit while her tongue flicks against it, making it impossible to hold back.

“Keep doin’ that, don’t stop. Don’t st-” I cry out, legs trembling and muscles tensing as the girl between my legs keeps pushing me closer and closer. “Shit mama, I’m gon’ cum.”

With that, I tip over the edge, pleasure crashing through my body, writhing and moaning. The orgasm is just as intense as it was fast, making my grip tighten around Izzie’s hair as she keeps up with the movement of her tongue.

As I come back down, the dark haired girl climbs back up, kissing me with authority. I feel embarrassed, from how wet her face is, and most of all from how fast I came. Couldn’t have been more than two minutes. It was something about her that made me yield, completely submit to her, my body too weak to fight it.

“Well that was quick,” Izzie giggles as she pulls away from me. I roll my eyes, flipping the girl on her back.

“Just wanted it to be your turn fast ma,” I mumble, beginning to kiss her neck.

-

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, P- Paige, fuck,” I cry out, tears filling my eyes as Paige presses on my lower back, pinning my hips down against the mattress. Her fingers are buried deep inside me, slipping in and out of me with a rapid pace, making my pussy drip all over the sheets. It was overwhelming, the strength of her fingers something I had never experienced before - what didn’t help was the three times I had already cum after she finished.

“Just one more, I promise. Swear baby. Can feel how much you’re throbbing around my fingers,” Paige coos, pressing sloppy kisses onto my sweaty back before sitting back up and kneading on the skin of my ass to get deeper inside me. Something about her filthy words made me willing to keep going, my orgasm building quickly from how sensitive I had been left after the past couple hours.

“Baby,” I cry out, grabbing the sheets desperately, tears spilling down my cheeks into the cotton blanket underneath me, sticking to my skin. 

“So perfect,” the blonde groans, eyes watching closely the way my pussy molded around her fingers, stretched out just for her, gushing around the long digits slipping in and out.

“P- I’m gonna-” I gasp, back arching as the muscles inside me coil tighter and tighter.

“C’mon ma, lemme make you cum,” she moans, leaning back down and kissing my ear, her hot breath sending chills all over as her fingers keep pumping into me. “So fuckin’ gorgeous you know that?”

With a high pitched whine, the coil finally snaps, my core clenching around her fingers as she makes me cum for the fourth time that night. My entire body trembles, hands grabbing the sheets desperately. The blonde brings her free hand to mine, long digits entangling with mine comfortingly.

“That’s it, fuck, look at you,” Paige murmurs into my ear, talking me through it as the waves of pleasure wash over me. I feel sore, tired, but in that moment everything else is forgotten, except the ecstasy taking over my entire existence, and the blonde’s praise in my ear.

“You are so fucking sexy,” the blonde whispers into my ear, slipping her fingers out of me and wrapping a comforting arm around me. In a haze, I nustle myself into her side, still attempting to slow down my rapid breathing.

I chuckle, finally opening my eyes and flipping onto my back. I couldn’t believe how many times she had just gotten me off. Most of all I couldn’t believe I let her do that all to me with all the lights on, and enjoyed it too much to even care. 

We both lie in each other’s arms, completely naked. Paige’s blonde hair is falling out of her bun, sweat glistening against her bare arms, covered in veins from the strain. She’s breathing loudly through her nose, watching my face. Surely I looked horrendous, makeup all over my face, hair fully out of place, curls wild and unruly. But the younger girl’s blue eyes continue to stare, soft and adoring. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss onto my forehead, loaded with emotion - feelings I wasn’t ready to face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige whispers, nuzzling her nose into mine. My heart flutters almost painfully. At that moment I know - I’m in trouble. That leaving Dallas behind after the season is over won’t be as effortless as I had hoped. I decide to worry about that later, wrapping my leg around the blonde and pressing my naked body against hers.

“So are you,” I murmur, letting Paige cocoon me with her big arms.

"One more time ma, please?"

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers @ohmybueckers @potatobears-world @st4yyyy @wnbawag @maryjanewatsons @naeswrrldd @she-is-my-unrequited-love34

[shysuccubusstuff]

l&ds nsfw links! pt. 2

Content: Zayne + Xavier + Rafayel in various NSFW imagines!

Note: It's so hard to find actual good content for these kind of imagine... How is everyone doing? I miss holidays so much... I did four instead of five cause I keep trying to find more accounts. Let me know if you liked it! Also, if anyone has any kind of request, my requests are always open tbh!!

Zayne:

Starved Zayne arriving after several days on a trip, he looks so exhausted but even if he has eyebags the only thing he can think of is grabbing you and letting you know just how much he actually missed you.

Zayne knows he should reject the idea, but how could he reject you when you keep begging him to fuck your throat, with your sweet eyes looking at him in such a way... He accepts, even if he still feels slightly guilty about it, but deep down, he may be enjoying the bulge that appears in your throat each time he shoves it deep inside you...

You sent him as a joke a supposedly true research about how sucking on your nipples could avoid you getting breast cancer... Despite Zayne looked almost ammused at first, you soon noticed how he had started to suck on them much more than often... Was this a mere coincidence?

Enforcer! Zayne taking all his anger out on you... He tried so hard do maintain his frenzy, biting his lips and leaving them all bruised just to stop himself from doing anything to you... But as soon as you use that damn enhancer on him, it's a matter of seconds before he has you lifted in the hair, your eyes rolling back as you keep pleading him to at least slow down for a second.

Xavier:

Jealous Xavier making sure to leave a lasting mark in your body. He knows it's dumb to feel that way because of some dumb barista clinging a bit too much on you, but he can't just help clenching his fist and forcing a kind smile towards you.

Just some warm-up between the two of you. You keep asking him to help you improve your stamina, what's better for that than riding him for some time? Don't worry! He will help you a bit, just make sure to get down all the way, ok?

Contrary to what many people believe, Xavier is one of the fittest LI, even if he doesn't look as strong. Just let him show you just how much he can last holding you up in the air, legs dangling as he keeps hitting your cervix with his tip.

Aftermath of that one card in which Xavier keeps getting teased while he wears his working out outfit... It is oly fair that he is able to tease you, right? He keeps taunting you, telling you to quiet down as he keeps rubbing his hardened cock against the crook of your ass. As soon as he releases, just now that this is far from over.

Rafayel:

After leaving due to work for a couple weeks, you end up receiving this video late at night... Who would imagine such a re-known artist would dare to do this kind of thing? The video has a small comment written by him: "I miss my cutie so much... the wait is becoming unbearable".

Just Rafayel giving a taste to that sweet nectar that is dripping down your legs. What do you mean that is unclean? Just relax and let him show just how much he adores you.

After acting as a butler for you, it is only fair for him to see you in those short and cute maid outfits! Just... don't blame him when his eyes begin to drift, ears starting to heat up as he keeps trying to stop his mind from imagining the many ways he would just take you right then and there. All he needs is you pulling him towards you to lose himself, one of his hands playing with your tits as the other circles around your clit.

You keep teasing him during the whole art exhibition, with you constantly wrapped around his arm, your chest pressing against his arm even as some of those supposedly art experts ask about the inspiration behind his latest paintings. Oh, you just knew he wouldn't let it slide the moment his eyes glistened with a dangerous look. As soon as you arrive to his studio... Well, let's just say that he made sure to give just as much as you had given to him...

[zroronoas]

roommate!zoro

hi guys i love zoro so much i might actually explode.

-

-zoro is a sleepy guy, so he loves taking naps on the couch. like all the time. you rarely get to sit on it, since his entire body is always occupying the seats. the living room is basically his bedroom, with him preferring to sleep there over his actual one. you've sat on him once, somehow not noticing the lump that was snoring away underneath the blanket.

"zoro, do you not like your bed?"

the question makes the man raise an eyebrow, what kind of question was that? what kind of person doesn't like their own bed?

"of course i do, do you?"

"do i like your bed? i've never been on it."

now you're both confused, but the man opts to just close his eyes again. you pull your lips into a tight line, deciding to focus your attention back to your book. conversations between the two of you never went well if they went on too long.

-zoro cannot cook. like don't even let him get near the kitchen Please. you don't understand how it happens, he could have a recipe pulled up on his phone and he still somehow messes it up. the smoke detector is going off, your pots and pans are burnt, and zoro is yelling at his ruined dish.

"it's not my fault! it's the stupid ass ingredients and recipe!"

you roll your eyes as you frantically try to fan away all the smoke. "how could it be the ingredients and recipe? you just can't read!"

"oh now you're being ungrateful, this dish was for us!"

"zoro, do me the biggest favor and never cook anything ever again. i'll cook for us."

-friday movie nights with lots of alcohol. thankfully you can both hold your alcohol pretty well, so drinking with zoro was always a chill time. your only issue was that you tended to be a little more affectionate when drunk, but zoro was usually passed out once you got to that point.

"cheers!" you grin while bumping your tiny shot glass to zoro's full cup of beer. he scoffs, but there's a small smile on his face when he watches you take the shot and immediately grimace.

"do we have to cheers every time we take a shot? we've done this about eight times now."

"zoro," you look at him pointedly. "you're really such a buzzkill! of course we have to cheers every time!"

zoro notices the way your cheeks start to turn pink and how you slowly start moving closer to him on the couch. he always tries not to think anything of it, but he can't help but think that you're a little bit cute when you're drunk. just a little though.

and that's usually his cue to put his hands behind his head and close his eyes, so that he doesn't have to deal with his heart pounding against his chest when you act like that.

"already, zoro?" you whine. "you always fall asleep so fast!"

-he walks around shirtless all the time. sometimes he'll even sport the shirtless and gray sweatpant combo. it's actually a pain in the ass because he's so hot. and you have a staring problem. the worst thing about it is that zoro is fully aware that you ogle him, but he secretly loves it.

"zoro, please put a shirt on! you shouldn't walk around like that in front of me." you grumble, but the way you can't bring yourself to look at him, gives your true feelings away.

and since you're not looking at him, you don't see the smirk that forms on his face when he sees how much it affects you.

"go back into your room if you hate it so much."

"hey! i live here too, i should be able to walk into the kitchen without you being half naked!"

-does not lock the door when he uses the bathroom. the amount of times you've accidentally walked in on him showering or using the toilet is actually criminal. and when you yell at him to start locking the door, he blames you instead.

"maybe you should knock, the door is closed isn't it?" he rolls his eyes as he towel dries his hair.

"you should still lock it! sometimes i forget to knock."

"what's the big deal anyways? you've seen me naked multiple times now."

-he's actually super sweet and the best roommate. whenever you're tired from work, he always makes sure to make things a little easier for you. if that means ordering takeout so you don't have to cook, he'll do it. he'll tidy up around the apartment, because he knows it bothers you coming home to a messy house. and if you don't drive, he'd drop you off and pick you up from work. the only con to that was he always got lost on the way, but it was just something you had to get used to. and you'd gladly wait as long as you had for him.

[galaxymagitech]

I’m pretty sure that’s what the OP doesn’t like—the idea that writers can hand wave that he can afford [x] item. Because if he can handwave afford any battle tech and a space station, he can handwave afford a lot of other things that would probably be more helpful. And also it makes things kinda boring.

You mentioned in your notes that Batman can afford a space station, a base on the moon, insane gear, etc., and he couldn’t afford these things if he was “only” a millionaire—or even a billionaire. I don’t think that anyone disagrees with you on this? But “billionaire” just means “can afford everything” in comicspeak, and it’s frustrating.

Having him still have to work within some sort of budged—giving him a private jet and some cool gadgets but not a freaking space station—is the point. The OP said that “millionaires today, even with inflation, can commission the creation of pretty much any physical item short of their own spaceship, and some of them can even do that.” (Emphasis mine.)

Yeah. Short of their own spaceship. Batman having his own spaceship and space bases and all these crazy things gets boring after a while. OP is saying that there is a sweet spot, where Bruce can find a well-equipped crime fighting vigilante, but not fix a whole city (or build a base on the moon) with his money. He has to do it by hand and just. Not have a base on the moon.

As for inventions? We don’t want Batman to be able to commission the invention of everything he could possibly want. He has to come up with it himself or somehow justify it to Wayne Enterprises—a very successful company, which does have an R&D budget.

So, I think you may be missing the point of the post. The OP isn’t saying a millionaire could buy all the stuff Bruce has—they’re saying Bruce should be a millionaire so that he can’t buy that stuff.

okay, controversial batman opinion time! it ruins the character for him to be a billionaire, and he’s only a billionaire because too many people think ‘billionaire’ just means ‘millionaire but cooler’. bruce wayne should just be a millionaire. 

a millionaire has enough money to buy a batcave, a fancy batmobile, a supercomputer, a bunch of esoteric custom-made tools and toys, a couple companies that make enough money to fund a playboy lifestyle and a bunch of high-tech vigilante superheroes. millionaires today, even with inflation, can commission the creation of pretty much any physical item short of their own spaceship, and some of them can even do that. 

a billionaire has enough money to own entire cities and write their own laws and do whatever the fuck they want basically all the time, anywhere. look at disney, tesla, amazon, nestle, walmart. these guys are playing on an almost inconceivable global scale and they are not your friend. these are lex luthor motherfuckers. 

the question keeps being asked, ‘if bruce wayne is so rich, it’s ridiculous that he’s using all that money to run around in a bat costume punching mentally ill people’, and that’s correct if he’s got money on a billionaire’s scale. it’s absurdly irresponsible to have the kind of power that could change how a nation operates, much less local government, and just play night time punch guy with it. batman is the bad guy there. 

but say batman’s ‘just’ a millionaire. he’s the heir of a couple old money families, he’s got a mansion and some land and a private jet, he’s in with the elite of gotham, he can put some pressure on the mayor and the city council and the police– but he’s still on a level with half a dozen other families who have their own millions to throw around, their own ambitions. he can’t actually fix gotham just by throwing money at it, because he will run out of money before all the other rich guys do. 

in this situation, batman does make sense for bruce wayne to invent: a secret guy no one can pin on wayne industries, who can run around taking on organized crime and supervillains at the same time, who isn’t beholden to the social or legal conventions that the superwealthy also flout to play their fucked up games with each other. batman can actually do what a single millionaire can’t. 

batman gets written by batman fanboys to be a power fantasy, but with great power comes great responsibility, etc. at a certain level of wealth his power far outstrips his purpose, and being batman is actually irresponsible for bruce wayne. a hero’s limitations make for better stories. stop writing batman as a billionaire, already. 

[scribblestatic]

I read this post by @diushek and I have been inspired.

Their post and mine aren't really all that related save for parts of the premise, but still, I'm thankful for the inspiration so I'd like them to get attention.

--

Shen Yuan as a spider demon(?).

In his last life, since he had a lot of free time, he, of course, dove headfirst into webnovels. But, he also grew up fixing his little sister's toys and had found out that he enjoys sewing. He was rather sickly, so it wasn't like he had much else to do.

So, he learned how to fix dolls, then design clothes for dolls. Then, he designed and made a dress for his meimei to wear for a school play, and he's spiraled out of control since.

He especially went wild while reading PIDW. Airplane was so neglectful while describing clothes, so of course, he had to design what he thought they would look like!! And, if it just so happened people would spend money to buy his outfits for their professional make and relative historical accuracy, sure!

Then PIDW ends terribly, Shen Yuan writes his last hate post, and he essentially dies from rage (his already weak heart couldn't beat properly in the end).

And the next time he's aware of himself, he's sitting neatly in the center of a well-woven web.

He can't see very well, but he can feel vibrations all over the place. He'd thought to put on his glasses, but couldn't seem to...put them on. Somehow, he knew they weren't around.

He also knows that he's quite terribly hungry.

So, he doesn't think twice when he feels a vibration in his web and he crawls over to a struggling creature. He can feel the qi coming from it, whatever it is. But that doesn't matter for now. It's just food.

And he's hungry.

So he injected his prey and began to slurp up the remains.

This continues for an indeterminate amount of time. Making webs, catching and consuming prey, moving to new areas when he decided the area was getting too crowded or was unsuitable. The more plants he finds, the more he appreciates the environment, and he tends to stick around them longer until he must move.

A little ticking clock in the back of his head seems to tell him he should be dead. That his life was extending beyond its usual limits.

However, that wasn't really something he cared too much about. Instead, if he wasn't trying to sate his deep, nearly endless hunger, there wasn't much else he cared to do. Not even the thought of reproducing enticed him.

Though, a part of him was bored. If he had something to read, that would be nice, but he had nothing. So, he'd just have to mull over a story he remembers from somewhere, a hateful little thing that, despite all its faults and failures, drags back into his mind once more.

At least playing around with plants helped a bit, moving the seeds and testing the soil with thin limbs and senses beyond anything a human has.

Some time later, he finds a little cavern with strong qi. He decides that would be nice to stay in since the plants around it are plentiful and full of energy, and he makes it his home. He connects the various webs he makes to his home web, able to feel the pull and location of each web to hunt, capture, and take it back to a much safer, more secure place.

He finds his mind becoming a bit clearer the longer he stays there. Eventually, he even finds that his eyesight is getting better as well. Although he was perfectly fine feeling through vibrations, the colors around him are quite interesting as well.

Eventually, one day, he feels something pull on one of his webs. As usual, he goes out to wrap it up. But, as he approaches his prey, it calls out to him.

"Wait! Wait! Please spare me!!"

Shen Yuan pauses. If he tries to focus his vision a bit...the form of this prey looks a bit human, doesn't it? Huh. When did humans get so small? He could've sworn they were bigger before.

"Please, I just... I just wanted the fruit!!"

The fruit...ah. Yes, he'd included a few nearby trees in his web at some point. Hadn't they just been little branches? Hm. Time sure does fly.

Shen Yuan focuses his blurry vision on the being in his web. Indeed, it seems to be human. A man, if he recalls...yes. A grown human male.

Humans... He thinks of them neutrally. Humans are not exclusively good or evil, but some tend to act more one way or another. In the end, they're just another animal trying to survive and live well.

However, that shouldn't come at the expense of stealing his fruit! He eats those because they're tasty! He brought the seeds with him when he moved from his last place and he planted them himself. They're his plants...his trees! No one else had the right to take from it.

Apparently, he lets some of this thought out, a whithery, faint hiss singing from between his fangs.

"Thieeeef..."

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Please, let me go, and I won't come here ever again!"

Hmmh. Not likely. If a human came this far, then it was possible there was some sort of issue with their own food. Couldn't the humans tell that he owned this area? Well...he did hide his webs well so prey could fall into his traps.

Even so, he doesn't think there's a village or anything close to this place, so this human was likely desperate enough to come out and pursue the fruit from his trees to eat. What was more likely was that the human would wail about his presence and bring trouble back with him.

So, he had a few options.

1. Release the human foolishly and wait for them to encroach on his domain.

2. Eat the human, then wait to see if anyone would come looking for him. This would possibly lead to more problems.

3. Let the human take a fruit, to make them indebted to him...but he can't just do that out of kindness. Humans could try to take advantage of him, or maybe hunt him anyway.

4...

Equivalent exchange. Bartering. If he sets this up as something where he and the humans mutually benefit while keeping the humans indebted to him, perhaps they would be less likely to see him negatively. They would also maintain a healthy fear of him.

Goodness, he was coming up with such good ideas just from encountering a single human. Perhaps associating with them a little wouldn't be so bad.

"...Free you. Fruit...but. Paaaay..."

The man trembled in his web. It was getting rather difficult to resist eating him. Such squirming enticed his senses.

"P-Pay? Pay how??"

"...Stoooory."

The man stumbles and mutters, but eventually, he starts telling a story from his village. It's just some sort of child's tale.

Even so, it's not boring.

"Hmm... Poor quality..."

The man starts pleading again as he approaches, but his pleas quiet as he, instead of wrapping him up, starts untangling the human.

"The main character...no personalityyy. Milquetoast. The princess. Even more flat. No motivation. Cookie-cutter character. The bear. Foolish. No protective instiiiinct. Elementary. 2/10."

He ends his critique while placing a webbed bag of fruit in the man's hands.

"Begone."

The human obeys.

And just as Shen Yuan expected, that same web triggers just a few days later.

This time, it's a human female. She's not as tangled in the web as the man was, having stopped fighting as much early on.

She has two heartbeats, but is terribly thin. The human male had been quite thin as well. Why?

"Lord Spider, this lowly woman is sorry... Please, may this one...tell you a story?"

"Hmm..."

Shen Yuan settles down, curling his limbs close, and waits.

She tells a story that's better than the one the male told him. Her heart skips and jumps at points, especially when the main character—a woman this time—experiences hardship. This is quite clearly a story close to her heart.

It's full off happiness and grief. A marriage collapsing from the death of her lover, and a family who refused to support her for being barren. She fights and fights and fights, and carves a place for herself. Just when she thinks she's found happiness, a tragedy strikes. A famine. And she, having exhausted everything she had, dies.

"Hmm... Interesting. Bold protagonist. Hardyyyy. Faces a dogfight world. Should ask for heeeelp. Husband. Tragic. Death too soooon. Loved the main character. Left her behind. Family. Cruuuuel. Mindless. Women are not jusssst for breeding.

"Hmm. 7/10. Too sad, realistic still."

He adds some grasses with wisps of qi coming from it to her bundle.

"What is this?" she asks.

"For the baaaaaby."

She seems to startle at that, though he's not sure why.

"...Thanking Lord Spider."

She leaves before he has to tell her to go.

...

After that, humans become a regular enough visitor that he leaves a string with leaves on the end for them to call for him. Surely, they're stuck getting caught in his webs. More importantly, he's tired of having to rearrange them every time. They really leave his webs a tangled mess.

As the season warms further, they come with more stories. Many are quite terrible and not worth his time. He gives them fruit regardless, because at least they have staved off his boredom.

They've decided on calling him Lulin Zhizhu (绿林之主 - lǜlín zhī zhǔ - Lord of the Green Forest). Or, simply, Zhizhu.

Apparently, his webs were keeping the villagers safe? The food he'd been catching had a taste for human flesh (not that he didn't, but still), so by eating, he had been helping them without intending to. That apparently made him more reverent to them, and they put more effort into their stories based on how he rated them.

Fan Zhenzhen (范蓁蓁 - Fàn Zhēnzhēn), the second human who told him a story, quickly became one of his favorites. She told the best stories, real ones, that brought back emotions he felt had been taken over by instinct for a long while. He wouldn't say he treated her better, but he did make sure to cultivate more of the grass for the child growing within her.

The humans steadily grew stronger and meatier...perhaps tastier, but he'd lose his stories if he ate them. Eventually, whatever blight affected their village abated a bit, and they could once again start growing their own food.

Instead of abandoning him, they brought him some of the food as an offering.

"Hmm...famine," he murmured, his way of speech having improved from socializing. "The sickness. Still in the fields."

"Sickness?" a farmer asked.

"Yes. The plants, victim to illness. They will not grow well." He leaves for a moment to get something. It seems they learned his habits, as they're still waiting when he returns. He drops another plant he cultivated within the realm of his webs. "Crush these. Spread them. The fields and the water."

The farmer and his offspring bow low to the ground. "Thanking Zhizhu for his wisdom!"

The offerings they bring after that show markable improvement, and the name they gave him sticks even harder.

Of course, they continue to tell him stories, as that's the most important thing they can give him. He becomes quite settled with hearing them speak and starts to absentmindedly weave little things related to the stories they tell him.

At this, Fan Zhenzhen approaches with another idea, her stomach rounding out with child.

"Zhizhu, this lowly one apologizes for being impertent. As the days grow colder, this feeble woman fears the chill of winter more than the hunger of famine. For her next story, may she instead receive some of your silk?"

"Silk...for clothes."

"Yes, if this lowly one may ask of Zhizhu."

"Hmm... Tell the story."

So she does. As with the others, it too delves into the life of the main character, who is now a powerful figure in her village for her ability to weave. Her weaving helped the villagers trust the nearby forest god, who was frightening but gracious, wild yet magnanimous. She talks about how the character was once sold by her family to be a maid elsewhere, and how she's learned to survive and come up to her current position.

As she does, Shen Yuan eyes her. The vibrations from her voice gives him a good view of her body and shape. He unconsciously, mindlessly, weaves a coat for her.

It's thin. Surely not enough to stave off winter's chill. So, when she finishes and he gives his rating, he gives her both the thread she requested and the thin coat.

It is, according to her, magnificently beautiful. In turn, Shen Yuan can't help but feel a little puff of pride in his abdomen.

---

Ah...this is getting longer than I meant lol

I'll make another post soon.

[vigilante-3073]

Daddy's Credit Card

Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)

PART 9

Summary: Edward and Bella return from their honeymoon and the family is quick to rally around them. Y/N is quarantined for the safety of the other Vampires while Carlisle tries find a solution for her illness.

TW: Mentions of pregnancy/injury/illness, threats, lack of regard for the feelings of others, secrets/denial, medical testing, blood.

It had been two weeks since Edward and Bella returned home from their honeymoon. Her belly had grown tremendously since their return and Carlisle had no way to see what was inside.

Ultrasound and needles weren't able to penetrate the embryonic sack, but blood tests showed that she was definitely pregnant. Carlisle questioned Edward when they returned home, trying to discreetly assess for whether or not he was sick.

Carlisle was relieved to find out that whatever illness Y/N had was not passed on to Edward. Carlisle still decided to keep Y/N away from the rest of the family in case her sickness was contagious. He didn't need anyone else getting sick in the home, he already had his hands full with Y/N and Bella.

Y/N hadn't been able to keep down animal blood since that day in the woods, she started to desiccate as her body dried out. Carlisle was able to procure human blood for her and it seemed to be the only thing she could stomach for the time being.

Carlisle was uncomfortable with the idea of offering her human blood, but he didn't have another choice.

She stayed in her bed for days on end as her body continued to grow weaker and thinner, dark bags appearing beneath her eyes. Carlisle offered her more blood, but she was continuing to lose weight and he was at a complete loss as to what she could possibly need. In a desperate attempt to try something, he brought her a lone piece of buttered toast.

She looked up at him when he set the plate on the nightstand, "What the hell is that?" She questioned.

"Food," Carlisle said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

"I need blood, not carbs," Y/N grumbled.

"Blood isn't helping you. Try it," Carlisle said, picking up the plate and holding it up in front of her.

She grimaced at the smell, turning her head away, "Don't be like that," He said.

"It stinks," Y/N mumbled.

"You need to try it," Carlisle pressed.

"Did Edward ask about me?" Y/N questioned, attempting to change the subject.

Carlisle sighed, lowering the plate slightly, "He is focused on Bella right now," Carlisle said.

"Who are you focused on?" Y/N asked.

"I'm looking after both of you," He stated, raising up the plate again.

Y/N glanced between him and the slice of toast before reluctantly reaching up and taking one of the four triangular slices. She looked down at it with disgust before taking a small bite and chewing it slowly.

Carlisle watched her, smiling softly when her stomach growled. She began to eat the toast faster, finishing the entirety of it in minutes.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"I need more," Y/N stated.

"I'll get you more," Carlisle assured, standing up from the edge of the bed. He moved across the room, stepping out of the bedroom and closing the door behind himself.

"What's wrong with her?" Edward asked.

"Edward, you should be with Bella," Carlisle said, keeping himself between his son and the door to Y/N's room.

"Alice was thinking about it. Why didn't anyone tell me?" Edward questioned.

"She told us not to," Carlisle stated.

"Can I see her?" Edward asked.

Carlisle shook his head, "I'm still not sure if what she has is contagious and I can't risk exposing anyone else," He said.

Edward glanced down at the plate, "Did she eat whatever you brought her?" He asked.

"She did," Carlisle nodded.

"Can you keep me updated?" Edward asked, shifting slightly on his feet.

"Of course," Carlisle said.

"Good," Edward replied, turning around and making his way back down the hallway.

Carlisle brought Y/N as much food as she could possibly stomach before he connected her to some IV fluids. He took her vitals and was happy to find that she was doing much better with some food and fluids in her system.

After a few days of calorie-dense meals and intravenous fluids, she was able to function almost normally again. One unfortunate side effect was the need to use the bathroom, which she had not dealt with for a very long time and found to be an incredible annoyance. Her vitals had shown an increase and were finally within the normal range for humans.

She had shown a significant improvement and Carlisle found himself focusing on Bella as her health had continued to decline. The fetus had been starving Bella and breaking her bones.

No amount of IV fluids or food had been able to improve Bella's situation and it was likely that her heart would give out before delivery. Bella had been constantly exhausted and nauseous, but had nothing left in her stomach to throw up.

She was wildly gaunt and pale with almost every bone poking up through her skin. The child was going to kill her, but Bella insisted that Carlisle could change her at the last second.

...

Y/N quickly found herself bored and annoyed at the prospect of being trapped in her bedroom. She stood out on the balcony, staring down at the ground below while silently pondering how many bones she would break if she jumped.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Someone said.

Y/N turned around quickly to find Edward standing in the middle of her bedroom. His eyes were dark and she wondered how long it had been since they had fed.

"Too long," Edward stated.

"What are you doing in here?" Y/N asked.

"I needed to see you," Edward said, taking a few hesitant steps towards her.

"Isn't your wife dying in the next room?" Y/N questioned.

"She is dying and it's my fault," Edward stated.

Y/N stared at him for a moment, caught off guard by his statement, "Wow, I really wasn't expecting you to take accountability for killing your wife," Y/N said.

"Can you talk to her?" Edward asked quickly.

"You do know that she has done every single thing I have told her not to do, right?" Y/N questioned.

"I don't know what else to do," Edward admitted.

"You must be really desperate to be coming to me for help," Y/N said.

"I am... Please, I need you," Edward pleaded, taking her hand in his.

She grimaced at the tightness of his grip and he quickly released her, "I need your help, Y/N," He repeated.

"I can't help you," Y/N replied.

"Can't or won't?" Edward snapped.

"Won't and don't really want to... If you haven't noticed, I have my own problems to deal with at the moment," Y/N said.

The door to her bedroom opened and Carlisle stepped inside, "Edward, you need to leave," He ordered.

"Fine," Edward muttered, storming out of the room.

"Are you alright?" Carlisle questioned, closing the door.

"I'm fine. He just came to beg for my help," Y/N replied.

"He's desperate, Y/N. You can't fault him for that," Carlisle said.

"I told him that something terrible would happen if he married her. It just happened in a different way than I expected," She said, crossing her arms.

"He's your friend," Carlisle stated.

"He's an idiot," Y/N corrected, sitting down on the chaise.

Carlisle made his way over to her, "Be gentle with him. He's fragile right now," Carlisle said.

"I've never been that person and you know that," Y/N said.

Carlisle wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm, she held up her other hand and he placed the probe on her finger. Carlisle turned on the machine and the cuff began to inflate as he took her temperature.

"Can I get out of here soon?" Y/N asked.

"No talking," Carlisle instructed, watching the screen of the vitals machine.

He wrote down the values as they popped up, "We still have no idea what you have, Y/N. It also doesn't help that the wolves are watching us. If you leave the house, you'll surely be torn to shreds in your state," Carlisle said.

He removed the cuff from her arm and took the probe from her finger, "I hate this room," She stated.

"I wish I could help you, but we need you to stay here for now," Carlisle said.

"This house is a prison," She grumbled.

"You'll survive," He smiled, putting the items away on the vitals machine.

"What if I don't? What if I die in this room and you wouldn't even let me go to the kitchen in my own home?" Y/N asked.

"Don't say things like that. Your vitals are stable and you're doing well," Carlisle assured.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "I'm climbing the walls, Carlisle. My god, if you're not sick at this point, I obviously can't infect anyone else," She said.

"I'll think about it," Carlisle replied.

"Think faster," Y/N grumbled.

Carlisle smiled, "You never have been a very patient person. I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised by your persistence," He said.

"Now that I can't use mind control, I'll just have to annoy you into letting me go free," Y/N said.

"I've dealt with you for a very long time, Y/N. I don't think there's anything you could do that would surprise me," Carlisle said.

"Don't challenge me, Carlisle," Y/N replied.

"I'll bring dinner in an hour. I trust that you can keep yourself busy until then," Carlisle said, Y/N nodded.

Carlisle stepped out of her bedroom, closing the door behind himself. Y/N stood up from the chaise quickly and rushed into the bathroom.

She moved her tongue around in her mouth before hesitantly reaching in and pulling out a bloody tooth. Y/N looked at it with disgust before her eyes found her reflection in the mirror.

Her mouth began to fill with blood and she spit into the sink, her eyes glossed over with panicked tears when she saw another tooth in the bottom of the sink. Y/N picked them up quickly and wrapped them in toilet paper, stuffing them into the bottom of the trash can. Y/N washed out the sink, rinsing the blood from her mouth before returning to her bed.

She laid down with a grimace, dragging the blankets over her body before settling against the mattress. Y/N's body was falling apart around her and it was infuriating, her joints ached terribly and her hearing was beginning to fail. Carlisle believed that she was doing well, but she wasn't and she didn't want him to know.

Edward clearly couldn't see anything beyond his own issues and Y/N was grateful for that. Edward was begging for her help while on his downward spiral that would ultimately lead to Bella's death. The hell spawn that grew in her belly would be the end of everything and Edward seemed to understand that. Edward wanted to hear Y/N tell Bella that she was making a terrible mistake, but nothing was going to change her mind.

Bella thought that she could have this perfect child and change into a Vampire at the last second. It was completely ridiculous, but she was stubborn and not even her husband could change her perspective on that.

Y/N was dying and she didn't want to spend the rest of her days under a microscope or trying to talk Bella out of something that everyone already knew was a mistake. Carlisle wasn't going to be able to save either of them and Y/N was the only one who was willing to admit that.

...

Y/N sat in her bed with her back leaned against the headboard as she read from her book. She heard some yelling, but couldn't make out what anyone was saying. The curiosity eventually became too much for her and she closed her book, setting it aside before she stood up.

Y/N made her way over to the door, opening it and lingering in the doorway as she heard more screaming. She leaned out into the hallway, looking both ways before slowly venturing out. Y/N made her way out to the living room, immediately spotting a broken Styrofoam cup on the floor in a pool of blood.

Y/N continued on passed the gory scene and made her way into the kitchen. She looked through the fridge before moving on and checking the cabinets for something to eat. Y/N huffed when she found nothing, returning to the fridge and opening the freezer.

"Oh, yes," She muttered, pulling out a small pint of ice cream.

Y/N grabbed a spoon from the drawer, hopping up to sit on the counter as she took the lid off. Y/N ate her ice cream silently as she listened to the screams from wherever everyone had run off to in the house.

It was obvious that something was happening with Bella, but Y/N couldn't be bothered to go and check on them. She paused in her snacking when the screams eventually stopped.

"Sweet serenity," She sighed, taking another scoop of the ice cream.

Y/N watched as Rosalie suddenly rushed by carrying a newborn baby wrapped in a blue towel.

"Is she dead?" Y/N questioned, Rosalie whipped around at the sound of her voice.

"You shouldn't be out of your room," She stated.

"Not like anyone's here," Y/N replied, gesturing to the empty room with her spoon.

"You still shouldn't be out here," Rosalie huffed.

"Did she die or not?" Y/N repeated.

"She did. Edward gave her the venom, but her heart had already stopped," Rosalie said, Y/N nodded and took another bite of her ice cream.

"You know, I usually do my best to stick up for you, but this time you are the one in the wrong. Edward has been awful to you, but he needs you right now and you should be there for him. You shouldn't be sitting here and listening to his wife die," Rosalie said.

"It's not like I can help him, Rose," Y/N stated.

"Nothing can help him. Bella is dead. But he needs someone to lean on right now," Rosalie said.

The infant squirmed in her arms and she looked down at them, "It's a girl. Bella decided to call her Renesmee," Rosalie said.

"That's an awful name," Y/N stated.

"It is, but Bella picked it," Rosalie replied, "I need to get her washed up, but you should go and see him," Rosalie continued, Y/N nodded.

Rosalie made her way into the bathroom while Y/N hopped down from the counter. She set her spoon in the sink and tossed the ice cream back into the freezer before following the panicked voice of her friend.

"Please, please, please, please," Edward whispered softly to Bella. He moved over her body, biting into her flesh while her lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling. Y/N lingered in the doorway awkwardly, taking in the scene in front of her.

Edward's shirt and face were covered in Bella's blood, his blood-stained hands were trembling as he cupped her cheeks, "Come back to me, please, baby. Bella, Bella, please, please," He mumbled shakily.

"Edward," Y/N said.

He looked up at her with wide eyes, "I was too late," Edward mumbled.

"I'm sorry," Y/N replied.

He stepped away from her body, moving over to his friend and pulling her into a tight embrace. Y/N grimaced at the feeling of Bella's blood soaking into her shirt before slowly wrapping her arms around his neck.

"She's gone and it was my fault," Edward mumbled, gripping onto the material of her shirt.

"You're going to be okay," Y/N assured.

He pulled away suddenly when he heard the sound of the Werewolves approaching in the forest, "What is it?" Y/N asked.

"They're coming," Edward mumbled, "Get up to your room and don't come out," He instructed.

"Alice! Jasper!" He yelled, returning to Bella's body and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Alice and Jasper rushed down to meet him while Y/N reluctantly returned to her room. She washed the blood from her skin and changed her shirt before sitting down on the edge of her bed. Y/N couldn't hear what was happening outside and it was absolutely killing her.

She could hear the growling of the Wolves, but not much else and then she heard absolutely nothing. It was completely silent and Y/N stood up, lingering in the middle of her room as she waited for something to happen.

Had everyone been slaughtered? Were the Wolves searching the house for the child? Would they kill her if she was found?

Maybe it would be a more forgiving death than the one she was destined for. Y/N's heart began to race as she heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

Was this it? Was this the end for her?

[jsooly]

death in the family (5) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, you're plagued with an uneasy feeling that persists day in and day out.

tw. you throw up once, depictions of anxiety

(1) / . . . / (10) / (11* - ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

a week and a half passed and you were still drawing up empty on ideas to snatch spider from the RDA's clutches. as far as you were concerned, he was constantly with the recom team, sometimes in areas you couldn't access.

"they're going to try and bond with ikran," spider whispered over the comm you slipped on his wrist.

you scoffed, pressing onto your new comm choker. "already?"

"they really want to go 'full na'vi.'"

"you think they'll be able to do it? complete the ritual?"

"honestly..." you heard him sigh softly, his tone begrudging. "as much as i hate to admit it, yeah. they could probably manage it."

you dropped your head into your hands. with each passing day, the situation spiraled just a little further out of your control. sometimes you laid awake in bed staring at the ceiling, a war raging in your mind on what you could handle. this was quaritch you were talking about—the man who hunted and almost succeeded in killing your father once before.

the only thing that pushed you to get up in the morning was the fire burning in your heart. his entire team was dead set on killing your family and regardless of how anxious you were, under no circumstances were you going to let them catch the faintest whiff of the sully's new refuge—even if you didn't know how you'd do so.

"okay, i'll..." i don't know what i'll do, you wanted to scream. "i'll be in touch. stay safe, okay?"

"yeah, i will." spider said hurriedly before the line dropped.

as if your doubts weren't enough to paralyze you, a sinking sensation constantly weighed you down. like a lead ball rooted in your stomach, your gut was trying to tell you that something bad was going to happen. but every situation around you had the potential to crash and burn, you couldn't pinpoint what your premonition was trying to warn you about.

"y/n!" norm exclaimed when you wandered into the break room for a glass of water. he launched from his seat and studied your face carefully. "are you getting enough sleep?" he flattened the back of his hand against your forehead. "you look sick!"

you smiled, trying to reassure his nervous assessment of your state. "i haven't been sleeping well, lately. that's all."

he frowned. "lately? how long has this been going on?"

"uh..." you pursed your lips, pouring some water into your glass. "since they left, actually. it's only gotten worse now."

"i think we should take a medical assessment, just to be safe." he pulled out his tablet and tapped away on the transparent blue screen. "you've been avoiding all the poisonous flora while you're out, right?"

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "yes, i have. and i don't need an assessment, norm, i'm just adjusting."

his hands stilled and he slowly pocketed his tablet. he eyed you suspiciously but settled for trusting your word. "...if you say so."

/

afterwards, you retreated to your room. your thoughts trailed back to spider once again. could you switch out his exo-pack somehow? if the tracker was the problem, a simple switch of the mask could give him the freedom to slip away the minute he sees an opportunity.

you weren't naive, however. a trained solider like quaritch would definitely be able to identify the switch if he were to look hard enough. the exo-packs the research department had were old and weathered, nothing near as spanking new as the RDA's updated model.

you pursed your lips as you ruminated in your thoughts. your eyes caught on the faint silvery glow outside your window, even in the bright daylight.

eywa.

respectfully, she was annoying you. she was teasing you with wonder, with a message that you were clearly oblivious to. even worse, you had no way to communicate with her except stare at her spirits dumbly.

this was probably the fifteenth time her sprites popped up, hung around your person, and then disappeared into the forest. it was clockwork. you couldn't go a day without seeing those majestic tendrils floating in your vicinity. you were confused the first time she showed herself up in high camp, and you remained just as confused now.

you appreciated her presence as much as you could before it fluttered off. you sighed and shook your head slightly.

your comm buzzed to life. your fingers automatically raised to accept the call, a habit fostered over the years. "yeah?" you answered.

"they're gonna scale the hallelujah mountains around midday tomorrow. the mountains above that watering hole we used to go to."

you pursed your lips. "if you guys are going to be in close quarters with each other and the ikran, it's too much of a risk for me to try and follow behind you."

"no, you're totally right. i'm just letting you know so you know you have free reign on the ground if needed. their temporary base is near the watering hole, too."

oh? "that's great, spidey. thanks for letting me know." you hummed, the gears in your head turning. "they got backup masks for you? do you know?"

"they got a whole trunk of stuff, m'not sure what's in it, though. i would assume yes?"

"i'll snoop around tomorrow. how long can you hold your breath?"

"huh?"

you smiled to yourself as the pieces fell into place. "just be prepared to break your mask."

/

for the next few hours, you worked to modify one of the exo-packs to match the newer RDA versions. truthfully, they were just darker and thinner, ultimately covering less of the face.

you groaned as you gave up on your endeavor. there was no way the recoms would fall for some half-assed switcheroo like the one you were planning. you needed their model, one that was untouched by the military without any trackers of any sort.

am i really doing this? you asked yourself as you slung your bow and arrow over your chest and slipped out your bedroom window. yes, i am. you sighed in defeat as you rushed towards the RDA base again.

/

night was falling fast over awa'atlu and jake sully was counting heads for the night.

"four," he mumbled to himself as he ruffled lo'ak's head and gently pushed him inside the marui. "good job today, everyone. didn't hear about any trouble."

lo'ak grumbled under his breath as he crouched next to his mother, who caressed his cheek lovingly.

"why are you so upset, lo'ak?" she probed gently. "you had fun today. i saw you."

"he had fun with tsireya!" tuk teased, a wide grin on her face. "oooo, you liiike her!"

lo'ak's head snapped up, his golden eyes glaring. "shut up, tuk."

"hey." jake scolded him, a disapproving look on his face. "that's no way to talk to your sister."

lo'ak rolled his eyes and stormed off to his corner. neytiri sighed and threw more ingredients into the fire, the aromas spilling over into the air.

"why is your brother so upset, neteyam?" neytiri asked tiredly. it was always something with these children.

neteyam pursed his lips. "i think he's just missing y/n."

"we all are," kiri cut in, her tone clipped. "doesn't mean he can be an ass about it."

neteyam shrugged. lo'ak wasn't likely to hear anyone out. he'd probably sort through it himself, if anything. he was probably also at his limit of hearing him lecture his ear off.

"it's been weeks. the longest we've been without her." neteyam, ever the diplomat, reasoned. "we all process differently. you haven't been perfect either."

kiri sat up straighter, indignation written all over her face. "what is that supposed to—"

"okay, okay." jake cut in swiftly. "it's been a good day. let's not end on a bad note, yeah?"

the kids grumbled as they reluctantly bit their tongues.

"dad." lo'ak spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to the boundary of the marui. "your computer's buzzing."

/

for all the pride the RDA possessed, their base was sure easy to infiltrate. it helped that you were one person, already familiar with the layout and camera blind spots, and had a few sedatives at your disposal. gaining an access card was a piece of cake.

you buzzed into the research department, the halls empty and dark. surprisingly, all the scientists were sleeping. you assumed they had dorms, though you did stumbled upon the odd person slumped over their desk.

along the wall there were rows upon rows of exo-packs. you smiled to yourself, swiping one kit with ease and attaching it to your person. getting out was as easy as getting in, and you held onto that access card.

for this to work, you'd need to eliminate all suspicion that the new mask would be tampered with. if the recoms did have spare masks for spider, undoubtedly with trackers in them, you'd have to deactivate them and hide them away somewhere, and give spider a handheld tracker so that the recoms would still be able to see his movement, but could be discarded when he decided to make a run for it.

what if this was all for nothing? you suddenly asked yourself. your stomach sunk, twisted, and flipped all at once. what if you were just as helpless as they thought you were, and you couldn't protect those who mattered most to you?

you felt sick.

you slinked into your room, promptly dropping the new exo-pack on the bed along with your weapons. you stumbled out the door to grab some water.

shut up, you told yourself, aiming to console your raging sense of impending doom. nothing bad is going to happen, i'll make sure of it.

you didn't even believe yourself. your hands shook as you poured your glass. something bad is going to happen. something bad is going to happen.

you were convinced. despite your family safely tucked away in the refuge of the island clans and spider cooperating with quaritch himself, you were on the verge of snapping. you didn't feel something bad was going to happen, you knew it. something was about to go terribly wrong and you knew no matter what you did, it was going to occur anyways.

is this all for nothing?

you set your glass down and tripped over yourself racing to the bathroom. you didn't bother to put the lights on before you keeled over the toilet and threw up.

"y/n?" the light flickered on with a click! and norm stood in the doorway. his brows furrowed in concern. "are you okay?"

you gave him a deadpan look. do i look okay? you wanted to retort.

he smoothed the hair away from your face and really studied you. "okay, i'm not taking any chances." he gives you a stern look. "i need to give you a medical checkup."

you shook your head, drawing yourself to your feet and rinsing your mouth. "m'fine. just... tired." you mumbled before grabbing your toothbrush and cleansing the panic from your mouth.

"you're not fine. this is unorthodox, especially for you. just an hour of your time, if so much. what's your medical history?"

you blinked. growing up on hometree, nothing of the sort was recorded. you were treated as symptoms were presented, going about your day as normal once you were treated. "i don't think i have one?" you spit out the minty foam and packed away your toothbrush again.

norm slaps his forehead in realization. "oh, yes. okay, i'll call your dad to see—"

"no!" you whipped around and latched onto his wrist, your eyes wide. you gave norm an incredulous look. "you can't contact them in any way. what if the RDA picks up on the signal?"

norm paused, his mouth shutting as he pondered your words. his eyes narrowed, and you could see his mind searching for answers. then, "don't worry, bug, i'll encrypt and mask our frequency."

you shook your head, "they'll find them."

"you're being paranoid, y/n."

"they could."

norm's firm hand squeezed your shoulder. "they won't pick up on our conversation. i swear on my life, y/n, okay?"

you stared at him for a moment before relenting, momentarily shocked by your own outburst.

"besides, won't it be nice to see your dad, mom, and the kids again?" norm attempted to lighten the mood.

he left the small room without another word, typing and clicking away at his computer.

you shook your head, struggling to regain your bearings. you're fine, you tried to soothe yourself. you're fine, and so is everyone else.

"your family's on the line," norm was beside you again, grinning as he grabbed your wrists and strung you towards the computer.

"wait—" already? what were you going to say to them?

distance was the strangest thing. put a bit of it between you and the nineteen years you've been by their side seemed foreign all of a sudden.

he sat you down in front of the monitor and you're still reeling, head tripping over itself to catch up to the fact that this was happening, your heart beating obnoxiously loud (could norm hear it?), and the uneasy feeling of something crawling over your skin.

you held your breath as the call connected, the picture of your family coming to life.

you pressed your lips together in a tight-lipped smile. "hey."

jake adjusted the camera, his forearm blocking most of the view for a moment before he drew back, squinting at the screen. then recognition washed over his face and he smiled. "y/n."

neytiri crouched beside him, a bright grin on her face. "how lovely to see you, ma'ite."

"sa'nok, nga 'ur tse." (mother, you look well.) you found yourself smiling, the nerves festering in your body a minute ago vanishing as if they were never there.

jake squinted harder at the screen, peering closely. "are you sleeping enough?"

you rolled your eyes as norm hovered over your shoulder. "no, she is not. which is why i called, actually..."

you sat back as norm and your parents discussed your medical history, but there was nothing out of the ordinary that would explain your insomnia or your severe anxiety.

"this seems sudden," neytiri mused, her brows knitted. her eyes darted to you. "y/n, you must visit your grandmother more often. she will be able to help you rest."

jake shook his head, the motion barely detectable. "norm, what medicine does she need?"

"let's not jump to medicine just yet. neytiri, you said this was sudden. has she never shown these symptoms before?"

"what symptoms?"

"paranoia, an impending sense of doom, uh..." norm glanced at you as he listed them off. "trouble sleeping, you know, stuff like that."

neytiri pursed her lips, taking a peek at her husband. "no, she's never..."

"never seen this before." jake finished, his face full of concern and sympathy. his poor baby suffering oceans away from him, and he couldn't do anything but stare at your forlorn state with guilt.

"no, we have." lo'ak piped up, scooting into frame. your face lifted at the sight of him. as if following his lead, the other kids slowly trickled into frame.

"remember when the RDA first touched down?" lo'ak continued. neteyam's eyes brightened with understanding. "she didn't let me wander around cuz she had a 'bad feeling.'"

"yeah, she was insistent. and didn't sleep after, either. for days." neteyam added. "there've been moments since then where she gets these fits of restlessness and unease."

you shifted in your seat awkwardly. it was odd for everyone to be talking about you as if you weren't there.

"so about two years ago it became noticeable." norm hummed, noting the new information down. "seems like her insomnia is a byproduct of her anxiety. they occur together."

"so, medicine?" jake cut in.

norm pursed his lips. "we have some, but they're strong. i don't wanna put her on those yet." he dragged a chair beside yours. "you know, this call doubles as a reassurance, y/n. they're safe. you can call them as many times as you like to remind you of that when you begin to spiral."

sure, they're safe now. what about when the recoms get their ikran? what about the day a call glitches and the channel is no longer encrypted? you had to find solutions for all these problems or you swore you were going to lose it.

"actually," you leaned forward, finally speaking up. "i'll be fine. i don't want to risk the RDA catching onto the call signals."

norm frowned. "y/n."

"what?"

"i told you i would never let something like that happen."

"you don't know that for sure." you muttered. before norm could protest, you put on a smile and focused on your family. "i hope you guys are having fun. are you swimming a lot?"

tuk grinned, immediately prattling off. "yeah! and we're learning this cool new hand language—"

"sign language." neteyam corrected.

"—because we're underwater for a looong time! i can hold my breath for two minutes!"

your eyes widened. "wooow, tuk. you're only gonna get better from there, huh?"

"yeah, we practice everyday."

after a few more minutes of catching up with each of your siblings, you finally signed off for the night. norm gave you a look.

"what?" you asked defensively.

he shook his head. "you want some sleeping pills?"

you pursed your lips. might as well. "sure."

norm gave you some melatonin gummies before sending you off to bed. he said he'd check on you in an hour or so to make sure you were asleep.

you sighed as you laid your head to rest on your bunk. and for the first time in what seemed like forever, your eyes drooped down, and down, and down, and...

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000 @childishname @nen-nyy @moonchildxoxx

© jsooly ‘25

[solarmorrigan]

3 & 4 steddie? I love everyone's takes on eddie interacting with steve after the halloween party in s2💛

So! A thing about me is that I'm actually not always comfortable writing about drinking. The "why" of it is kind of a moving target, and I really should have just nixed "drunk" as an option in the tags, so that's my bad D: But! I think I got the rest of your prompt in pretty alright??

4. Cry - Eddie &/ Steve

-

Eddie had only been looking for a quiet place to smoke. Business is great at parties like this, but sometimes he needs a break from all the hubbub. The backyard had been milling with people, but as Eddie had trailed out towards the edge of the property, close to the tree line of the woods behind the house, the crowds had dwindled to nothing, leaving undisturbed peace in their wake.

At least, Eddie had thought so.

It takes a minute for him to notice the new noise – the soft, inconsistent huffs of air working counter to the sound of the whispering breeze. It’s the sound of someone gasping, he realizes, cold anxiety beginning to pool in his gut.

Is someone hurt? Had some drunken idiot wandered out back here, maybe fallen or run into a tree and injured themselves? Were they too hurt to get back up? But, no – as Eddie gets closer to the source of the noise, it becomes clear it isn’t pained gasping, it’s the hitched-breath sound of sobbing.

And just as he starts to think maybe he should just give this person their privacy, let them have a good cry in peace like they clearly intended, he rounds a tree and sees exactly who it is that’s come out into the woods in their lament.

He can’t see the face, but even in the half-light spilling out from the house, the head of hair is unmistakable: Eddie’s just crashed Steve Harrington’s private backwoods breakdown.

For a moment, Eddie is frozen, unsure of what to do. He feels a little like Actaeon stumbling across Diana bathing in the forest, and at any moment he’s going to be turned into a stag for witnessing something he shouldn’t have (and take that, Mrs. Davis – he does pay attention in English class. To the cool parts, at least). Except it doesn’t seem like Steve has noticed him yet, still wrapped up in whatever’s got him miserable, so maybe Eddie can just make a clean getaway? Pretend none of this ever happened?

Intending to do just that, he takes one careful step back and puts his foot down directly on what is apparently the loudest twig in existence. The crack of it rings out like an alarm, and Steve’s head snaps up, his cheeks shining wet in the low light, glancing around frantically until his eyes land on Eddie.

“Uh,” Eddie says, raising one careful hand in greeting. “Hey.”

That seems to knock Steve back into action. He swears, reaching up to wipe roughly at his face, running a hand through his hair, probably trying desperately to look like he hadn’t just been crying. Eddie figures he should probably let him, give him some plausible deniability, pretend he hadn’t been able to see anything in the dark, that he hadn’t heard anything at all. Except now that he’s here, Eddie finds he can’t quite leave well enough alone. He’s curious.

And maybe he feels a little bad for the guy. Just a little. He looks sort of devastated from where Eddie is standing, eyes wide and wet, cheeks red, hair disheveled (but still goddamn pretty. How is that even fair?).

“You, uh… You okay?” Eddie tries, feeling a little lame in the attempt.

“Yeah,” Steve snaps, running a hand down over his face again. “I’m fine.”

Clearly.

“Did you come here with someone?” Eddie asks. “Like… someone I can go get?”

“What? I’m not drunk or anything, man, I’m fine,” Steve huffs, leaning back against the tree he’d been half-hidden behind, shoulders still slumped.

“No, yeah, I just – like, whatever’s going on with you, I figured maybe a friend would be… better,” Eddie says, waving a hand vaguely at Steve, who scoffs at him. “Wait– Wheeler. You came with her, didn’t you?”

That doesn’t get an answer – not a verbal one, anyway. All Steve does is sniffle and glance away.

“Ah,” Eddie finds himself nodding, speaking before he can stop himself, “trouble in paradise?”

Steve scoffs again. “You know what?” he asks harshly. “When your girlfriend says you’re bullshit, and that your love is bullshit, and blames you for her friend dying, you start to think that maybe there was no paradise to begin with.”

Eddie blinks. That’s a lot to process. “I thought Holland ran away?” he asks after a moment, because apparently that’s the thing to focus on.

“Right. Ran away,” Steve spits out, and that’s – hm.

What do you know that I don’t, Steve Harrington? Eddie wonders.

He doesn’t ask, of course, because nosy as he is, Eddie also has a healthily developed sense of self preservation, and this seems like the sort of thing he shouldn’t be prying into.

“That’s kinda fucked up, man,” he says instead. “She seriously accuse you of that?”

Steve shrugs, says nothing, but still looks miserable enough that Eddie would believe it. Whatever went down between Steve and Nancy had clearly been a hell of a mess. He isn’t entirely sure why he cares (his persistent soft spot for strays is honestly a bitch sometimes), but he finds he doesn’t want to leave Steve like this, depressed and alone in the woods on Halloween.

He reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws his pack of cigarettes, shaking two out into his hand. Steve tenses when Eddie takes a few steps closer, but the only thing Eddie does is offer him a cigarette. There’s a moment of confused staring, eyes flicking between Eddie’s face and the cigarette in his hand, but eventually Steve reaches out to take it.

Eddie takes a chance, leaning in a little closer to offer him a light, and Steve takes it, the warmth of his face near Eddie’s cupped palm feeling almost as strong as the flame from the lighter.

Eddie drops his hand as soon as the cigarette is lit. He needs to get a grip. He lights his own cigarette and takes a drag.

“Thanks,” Steve croaks once he’s blown out his first breath of smoke.

“Don’t mention it,” Eddie replies.

They smoke in silence for a minute, watching the backlit figures of drunken teenagers churn in and out of the house before them.

“Maybe she’s right,” Steve finally says.

“Hm?” Eddie glances over at him, but Steve is glaring at the ground.

“Love,” Steve sneers. “Maybe it’s really just bullshit.”

And something about that just hits Eddie wrong. Maybe he’s never believed in love, as such—not the way it’s described in poetry or sung about in ballads or written about in shlocky romance novels—but Steve clearly does. Anyone who’s been around him and Nancy for more than a minute in the last year could see that. For it to be otherwise feels like it goes against the natural order.

“Nah,” Eddie says. “Love is out there, man. The real shit, y’know? Stuff worth fighting for.”

Steve lets out a little snort, more amused than derisive, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. “You’re not a romantic, Munson,” he says, so sure of himself – which is fair.

“Oh, I’m a cynic through and through, baby,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve gives him a little laugh. “But you – you’re a romantic. You don’t really believe that love is bullshit. And you shouldn’t.”

Subsiding, Steve leans back against his tree, taking another drag of his cigarette like he’s stalling for time. “Why do you care what I believe?” he finally asks.

Eddie shrugs. “The world needs people like you. Romantics. Dreamers. You keep people like us pessimists from collapsing beneath the weight of our own dark souls.”

“What?” Steve coughs out, really laughing this time, and Eddie smiles right along with him.

“Just saying,” he offers.

Steve shakes his head. “Okay, drama kid. And I’m guessing people like you – what? Help people like me keep our feet on the ground?”

“Sure,” Eddie says. “Everyone needs a rock now and then. A nice solid foundation to start from.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, finishing off his cigarette as Eddie does the same. “Well – you’re, uh. You’re a pretty good rock, Eddie. Thanks.”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie says, pretending that the weird little compliment hadn’t made him light up just a bit. “Don’t mention it.”

And Steve doesn’t, but the smile he gives Eddie – well. What’s something else.

[cmdrfupa]

Lifetime

post shibuya!nanami x caregiver!reader

A series dedicated to healing and letting yourself have a second chance in this lifetime.

Inspired by this song that brings me to tears every single time.

content warning: shibuya arc, mentions of death, mental health awareness, angst(eventual comfort), burn victim so expect some detailed imagery.

wc: 4.9k

an: thank you for reading. I love you lots.

I.

Time seemed to trickle as Nanami waited for his physical therapist to arrive.

First at home session since being discharged.

4 days a week, 30 minutes a day.

“Individualized exercise program including rigorous activities as you progress to help you regain your independence.. Sure.” Nanami read from the pamphlet out loud and sighed as he looked over the stack of literature he left the rehab facility with.

He was thankful that he was deemed fit enough to continue his healing at home after 11 weeks in the best facility Gojo could find. While it accommodated every possible concern one could have, he was certain he wouldn’t feel confident in being self sufficient until he was able to put all he had learned into practice at home.

So there he was, sifting through paperwork and sipping his coffee as he awaited his new physical therapist and as Ino finished cleaning his kitchen.

“I think thats it! Lunch is in the black container on the top shelf in the fridge and I’ve prepped dinner for when Gojo comes to cook. Anything else before I’m off?” Takuma grabbed his keys, the jangle bringing Kento out of his reading trance as he looked up.

“Yes, that should be fine. I appreciate you coming over every morning Takuma. But it’s not necessary.”

Takuma scoffed, almost offended at the idea. “Nonsense. Its just a little breakfast and lunch. Its on my way to the school anyway. Consider it a small help.”

He could protest but Takuma would simply find another way to make himself useful. Whether it be taking him to his appointments or coming to slather his injuries: he was going to find a way to be of help.

As he adjusted his cast as best he could, a text popped up from an unsaved number.

>Hello, Mr. Nanami! Currently heading to you. ETA is ten minutes.

Signed with your name, Nanami simply reads the text and reacted to the message with thumbs up.

“Thank you, Takuma. Truly. But I think thats everything. My physical therapist is on their way so I’ll just hang out til then.”

“Alrighty! I’ll be working mostly on campus so just shoot me a text if you need me. Take it easy, Nanami.” with that, Ino grabbed his jacket and proceeded out the front door.

Nanami exhaled and got up to sit at the window. The mid morning sun was gentle but insistent, that soft golden hue brightening everything it touched.

It wasn’t harsh, just warm enough to remind Nanami of the outside world, a quiet promise that time was still moving. The warmth on his right side almost felt foreign as the dust mites danced lazily in the light. He closed his eyes, taking in the fragile sense of something stirring inside of him­— reposeful comfort in the way the sun didn’t have a sudden, overwhelming wave of joy but a soft declaration that he was still here.

Nanami hadn’t had many moments to really think about just how life changing the incident had been. Half of his body littered in 3rd degree burns, a third of that, 4th degree. Loss of hair on one side, an eye patch over his eye and a lack of feeling down his left arm.

He’d looked at himself in the mirror exactly once since the incident and didn’t do it again until he acquired his face prosthetic recently.

It was bulky and itchy, but it alleviated the deformities and more importantly, kept him from being too hard on his own appearance.

The moment felt necessary. Reminding him that the sun remained a constant while other things changed.

“I’ll need to see if I can sit outdoors for a few minutes a day. Would be good for me.” he noted outwardly before a light tapping at the front door had him shuffling towards the foyer.

One moment, please.” he paused a few paces before he reached the door to look down, remembering his shirt had a hole near the hem of it. He didn’t have time to change but only hoped the therapist wouldn’t see him as some undetermined slob with no real concern on how he looked.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Mr. Nanami?”

“That would be me.”

“Perfect! Hello! I was sent by the health and wellness agency as part of your transitioning to home health care. We have an appointment. May I come in?”

No scrubs, no accessories to signify you were a medical professional. Just a badge clip holding your ID with “HHA” boldly sitting under your name.

“Sure. Come on in.” He led you into the house, slowly walking into the living room and nodding towards the couch as you stood next to him.

You grin and sat on the far end of the couch, near the window, “Thank you.” you sat your tote littered in small pins on the coffee table and pulled out a somewhat thick file.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water, coffee?”

Shaking your head, you tapped the top of your bag. “No thank you. I have my tumbler. But I appreciate it!”

Nanami slightly bowed his head and sat in the solo chair next to the couch. “Alright so, how do we start this? I was told I’d see you four days a week with one more day possibly if I need to.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your paperwork before looking back up to meet his neutral gaze.

“I believe that’s your physical therapist that you will be seeing four days out of the week.”

“Then pardon me for being so… impolite. But who are you exactly?”

The laugh that left your lips was a soft one but enough for Kento to lift his lips into a slight smile.

“I realize your discharge team didn’t give you names, faces, or titles. My apologies.”

“It happens.”

You continued. “I’m your Home Health Care Provider. While you were still in recovery, you met with your primary care provider and you spoke of your in home care, correct?”

Nanami nodded. “Yes.”

“Going over the team you’d have for your in housee rehabilitation, you were assigned a home health aide 5 days a week.”

His brow furrowed. “So you are that, I assume?”

“Yes. I will also be the one looking over the full team that provides you with your in-home care.”

“This feels very unnecessary.” The tone in his response was sharp. “I have people who come to help me with my daily needs. Having an entire team sounds like an exhausting back and forth to have coming to my house. A waste of resources.”

Your demeanor remained soft and understanding as you listened to his concerns. “Mr. Nanami. I understand that it sounds overwhelming. If I had to be in the predicament of needing a care team after an incident, I too would be a bit apprehensive.”

“But you aren’t. I am.”

The immediate smile that grew on your face wasn’t one that came from kindness. It was your defense, albeit an understandable one. “You are correct. I’m not. But I implore to at least hear me out on why its important to have us.”

A rush of emotions filled Kento’s chest. He wanted to pull his hair out from sheer frustration. But he remained calm.

His discomfort was obvious to you and you wanted to remedy the ache somehow.

“I want you to have an idea of what this could look like as you approach the first steps of gaining a sense of normalcy. Would you be willing to let me give you an example of what a week may look like for you? And if you don’t like it, we can adjust to a schedule that fits better for you.”

“Let’s hear it, then.”

“Splendid.” You reached into your file and pulled out a thoroughly detailed schedule and turned it for Nanami to look along with you.

“So, this schedule is based loosely on the day to day you had while in the rehab facility. No matter who, anything involving someone from your team wouldn’t be arriving until 10am. This is unless you decide to utilize me. Then I would be here at 7 every morning to aide you with your morning routine.”

“What if I don’t want extensive help?”

“I would respect the boundary.”

Nanami took a closer look at the schedule, seeing the words ‘kitchen prep healing exercise’ highlighted for every Tuesday and Thursday. “What does this entail? Kitchen prep healing.”

“Your passions shouldn’t suffer because of changes. So I created a regimen that would help us get in the kitchen and get busy while making sure we help maintain your range of motion and fine motor skills.”

Nanami looked up at you for a moment, trying to assess just how serious you were about changing what he was uncomfortable with.

“So if I only need you for meal prep and assisting with chores around my house.”

“Then I will only help you with meal prep and assisting with your chores around the house.”

He handed the schedule back to you. “And if it isn’t something that I’ve mentioned?”

Trying to test you. Cute. “If you mention to me that would like me to assist you in going to the grocery store, fixing your bed, helping you get ready for your appointments, then I will. Because my goal is having you confident in yourself and your abilities.”

That nagging feeling of what if filled his chest and mind. Nanami knows he can’t do it alone. But to be a burden is the last thing he wants to ever become.

“I don’t want to become too dependent on you and your teams’ services.” He sat up as best he could, stretching out his legs and wincing at the unexpected intensity of his blood flowing through his left leg.”

Not wanting to lose the momentum, you sat on the edge of the couch alert of and aware of the pain he showed. “Your independence will not falter. We are merely an extension. We are the claw arm that’s in your reach if the jar of pickles are too high up, if you will.”

Nanami tried to stop the half smile on his face but faltered. “I understand.”

“Do you have any questions for me?” You smiled politely.

“A few,” Nanami cleared his throat. “When it comes to changing my dressings..”

“I will be the only one who sees them completely outside of your primary physician.” You answered, as if you were waiting for that specific question.

“Second question: can you properly fold a fitted sheet?”

You laughed, nodding. “The trick is in how you hold the corners. Line up the creases and you’ll always have a perfect fold.”

Nanami nodded. “Interesting.” The intense blood flow in his legs ceased and his body noticeably relaxed. He sat forward. “Final question, if you were to start tomorrow, could we have your start time for 8am? I like having the first hour of the day to myself.”

“If you want me here at 8 am, I will be at the door by 7:55 to knock at 7:59.”

The moment of silence was filled with hope as you realized you got to him. You let him see genuine concern and thats all he wanted. But this was only the beginning. And you were willing to be his guide to a sense of independence all the way through.

___________________________________________

The silence of the early morning was heavier than usual— a quit hum of of the refrigerator reached his room as he slept with his bedroom door open now, a new practice he’s since learned is a response to his trauma.

He sat on the side of his bed, staring down at his slippers that warmly held his feet as the barely visible morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and unrelenting.

“I embrace healing.” He spoke out loud, his voice still low, sleep riddened, as he slowly rose from the bed and grabbed his cane.

“We aren’t going to be hard on ourselves because this is still new to you, Kento. Its okay to not know what to do.”

Mornings were more of a drag than he would like for them to be.

His body was more stiff. More rigid. He needed 30 minutes minimum to sit on the side of the bed and stretch just to muster up enough internal energy to get up and grab his cane.

He sounded off, flipping the bathroom light on and adjusting the sink to run warm water. “Today will be a great day.” He washed his hands, meticulously washing between his fingers and flicking the excess off his fingers before he dried them, reaching for a clean towel and letting it soak under the faucet.

“You will be more than okay.” this time, he spoke as if someone would overhear him talking to his self.

Nanami shook his head, lowly chuckling at what he found himself doing.

Yuji began to send him various videos that initiated ‘positive self talk’ and ‘daily affirmations for healing the body.’ Yuji hoped to try and help expedite a process that Megumi told him more than fives times, would take awhile.

Slowly pulled away the dressing on his cheek, Nanami watched small bits of dead tissue peel away from his healing skin. He threw it in the trash hamper, then pumped a small dot of antimicrobial soap on the wet towel he’d soaked and gently began to wash his face.

He looked closely, inspecting every patch he wiped over to take notice of any changes in how his skin looked. He tried very, very hard to not look into his own eyes.

Rinsing and patting to dry, he washed his hands again then reached for the jar of salve, precisely swiping a thin layer over his left cheek and forehead before he placed his transparent face mask on.

Finishing up his morning bathroom routine went without a rush. Going to throw on yet another loose fitting t-shirt and casual pants before sliding his slippers back on.

Slow and steady. Nice and easy.

“I am going to have a great day today.” the rubber end of his walker softly thudded against the wooden floors as he made his was down the hall. “It is a new day. New chances.”

He wasn’t going to confirm or deny if these affirming exercises were doing anything. But he’d admit that saying them aloud was probably the silliest he’d felt ever doing anything.

The living room held a welcoming warmth as he drew the blinds open that faced the street.

The third floor apartment view was always the one thing that made the asking price of his condo worth it to him.

The patchwork of traditional rooftops and modern buildings met the edge of the cities outskirts. Bare branches stood against the pale early morning winter sky, hints of early plum blossoms added a hint of a spring that would soon come and wipe away the muted landscape.

Kento sat on the window seal, taking in the low mountains in the distance. That thin veil of mist hiding the peaks that were still dusted in snow. With a deep inhale, he looked down at the street to see a bundled up pedestrian loading his car with boxes as another, that looked only slightly familiar, was exiting their car in a slow jog to the front steps of his building.

He glanced over at the clock on the wall.

7:55 am.

“Timely.”

slowly, he went to open the rest of the blinds around the living room, a slow tango that made him a feel like he still had just enough control, timing the last curtain opening perfectly as your soft knock filled the foyer yet again.

He stood there for a moment, his hand resting on the frame, before opening the door and stepping aside in a half step to let you in. His expression was neutral — not unkind, but carefully composed, as if he were still deciding how much space to give you in his life.

“Good morning,” you spoke softly, offering a polite smile.

“Morning,” Nanami replied, his voice low and steady. “I was about to make myself a simple breakfast. Coffee too.”

It wasn’t quite an invitation, but it wasn’t a dismissal either. It was just a statement — a line drawn firmly down the middle.

You nodded. “That sounds good.”

You sat your bag down on the ottoman against the wall and followed his lead. The condo was quiet — too quiet, the kind that felt deliberate. Like he'd stripped the space of anything deemed unnecessary. A few trinkets here and there, clean lines, muted colors.. But the kitchen felt like the homeliest part of the space.

Black stainless steel appliances, cold press juicer and blender sitting on the counter. A top of the line built-in double electric convection wall oven, a display of every herb and spice on a dark mahogany shelf sitting high on the wall.

“You have a very beautiful kitchen.” Your eyes grazed over the quartz cabinets, taking in the light blue finishes until you landed on what you knew to be as the best stand mixer that only experts chefs and bakers would have.

“You have a Bosch… Its even more beautiful in person.” You inspected it as if it were a lost artifact seeing the light for the first time in 500 years.

Nanami cocked his head for a moment. “Are you that taken by a stand mixer?”

“Mr. Nanami, I’d have to work 3 weeks nonstop to not only get the mixer but to financially recover from it.”

Your half suppressed laugh had Kento smiling. “Understandable. It is a big purchase. I use to bake fresh bread for my weekly use.”

“You’ll have to give me a demonstration one day! Would love to see the Bosch in action.”

Nanami raised his brows. “You think I can get back to that one day?”

The small flick of something resembling hope flecked in the richest parts of his brown eyes.

“We can get you back to that. I’m sure of it.”

He nodded, a silent acceptance of an unspoken challenge. He opened the refrigerator, bearing his weight on the cane as he used his dominant hand to grab the butter, holding it out.

“Do you mind taking things as I pass them to you?”

You reached out, taking the butter and placing it on the counter. “Don’t mind at all.”

A pack of bacon, a jar of jam and an orange followed after and you awaited his next instruction.

“I’m going need your help with peeling orange. I believe I can manage the rest.”

With quiet acknowledgment, you grabbed the orange and began to peel as he placed 2 pieces of bacon in the skillet.

It took less than 10 minutes and Nanami moved to the dining table, a slice of toast placed next to his bacon on a plate and setting out a small dish of fruit with the addition of an apple now. You brought out 2 mugs of coffee, placing his in front of him and sitting across from him with yours.

A butter knife rested awkwardly beside the jar of jam he chose. It was clear he had intended to do more, but something had stopped him.

You didn’t move or say anything, you sipped your coffee and watched as he reached for the jar. His right hand gripped the jar while his left hovered over the lid. His fingers trembled — just slightly — but enough that the lid refused to budge.

You didn’t move at first. You’d quickly learned that Nanami wasn’t the type to appreciate overstepping, even if it came from a place of concern. So you waited, giving him the space to either push through the task or acknowledge the struggle.

After a long moment, his jaw tightened. The jar didn’t budge.

You opened your mouth — not to offer help, but simply to ask if he wanted you to hold the base of the jar steady when his voice cut through the silence.

“Can you…” He paused, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. “Can you open this for me?”

It wasn’t a whisper, nor was it loud. Just a calm, measured request, but you could hear the effort behind it — the weight of a man who wasn’t used to asking for assistance.

You stood and went to his side of the table and gently placed your hand on the lid. “Turn when you’re ready.”

His hand dropped away, switching his left hand out for the right gripping the glass part and his left fingers curling into a loose fist at his side. The lid gave way with a soft pop, and you set it down in front of him without a word.

He didn’t thank you, but there was a small nod — barely noticeable, but it was there.

“Would you like me to slice the apple for you?” you asked, careful not to overstep.

Nanami shook his head. “No. I can manage.”

You sat back down, sipping your coffee as he asked you more questions about your fascination with his Bosch.

_______________________________________

The morning moved quickly. Breakfast cleanup was a breeze as Nanami continued his light reading and non rigorous solo exercises.

During breakfast, you’d been given what you called the key to the cupboard by Nanami. He uttered, with few words, that he didn’t want to prevent you from doing your job. While he limited what that might be, he was quick to say how appreciative he’d be if his bed could be made up, his laundry started and lunch done. He’d have a friend come by to do the rest.

You happily complied and began working on laundry the moment he sat down post breakfast. And by noon, his physical therapist had arrived to continue his exercise routine and mobility work.

Despite the pain he would occasionally feel from the intense stretches he felt near his ankles, this was Nanami’s favorite part of his rehabilitation. Feeling the tightness dissipate as he stretched his neck and chest together. He closed his eyes, allowing the PT to guide his body on top of the exercise ball.

“Now a slow exhale as you reach your arms over your head. Nice and easy.”

The short man moved the ball under Nanami and he grunted.

“Sorry Mr. Nanami, too much?”

Nanami wheezed a chuckle out, “Not enough. Can we do this one more often?”

The therapist exhaled and smiled. “We can. Your body is reacting as it needs to and it seems to be the best exercise to get a reaction out of you. Does it feel like your body is loosening up?”

He nodded, slowly sitting up with assistance. “Definitely. My skin feels less taut at my hips and chest when I open up my arms like that. It feels.. good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. We’re going to finish off with some hands exercises then your aide will be tagged back in to finish the day off with you.”

His session proceeded and came to an end before he knew it. He walked with a bit more confidence as he escorted his therapist to the door and went to find you in the kitchen finishing lunch.

Nanami watched you sliced the cucumber. He nodded at the precision of the knife movements, impressed with how perfect each little sliced green disc was as you added it to the salad bowl. He waited to speak once you sat the knife down.

“You have some really great knife skills.”

You looked up and smiled, wiping your hand on the dish towel nearby. “4 years of cooking for a group of broke college students as a college student. 2 of those years were spent dating a sous chef who taught me some of what I know.”

“I’m sure this sous chef would be happy to know you use these techniques so well.”

“We could only hope,” Expertly, you avoided giving that a full response that would push the topic of your ex. “Where did you learn to cook, Mr. Nanami? I’m sure you are amazing with a Bosch in your kitchen.”

Nanami walked behind you, reaching for two bowls out of the cabinets and placed them next to you. “My grandfather wanted me to be self sufficient once I moved out on my own.” He slowly opened the silverware drawer, pulling out a pair of forks and knives. “And cooking in itself is its own therapy for me.”

You finished placing the grilled chicken in the salad bowl and handed over the tongs to Nanami. “How does cooking make you feel?”

He looked down at the tongs, his heart fluttering with an anxiety he couldn’t place. His eyes found you. “Do you think I can?”

“I’m right here,” you slid one of the eating bowls directly next to him and smiled. “What does cooking do for you?”

Nanami put his eyes back onto the salad and took a deep breath. He grabbed the tongs, gripping them, feeling the cold stainless steel rest in the part of his palm that still had feeling. “Cooking requires me to pay attention. Smell, sounds, how my food is looking.”

He widened the tongs, lowering them into the salad and tossing it lightly, as if he’d harm the lettuce if he placed any pressure.

“What do you usually cook with?” You noticed his hesitance in squeezing the tong tips together, his grip faltering as he exhaled from frustration. “I’m going to hover my hand below yours. Claw extension. Only if you need it.”

Nanami closed his eyes, slowly breathing out as he tried to not lose his momentum. “Garlic. Fresh minced garlic.” He tried again, slowly working his hands closed until he had salad gripped between the flat tips. He carefully moved it over to the dish, hand shaking but making it with no spillage. “I prefer to mince it and store it in water. Taste great every time.”

You smiled as he looked at you for a hint of validation and gave a nod of acknowledgment.

He moved the tongs back to the serving bowl with a glimmer of determination in the way he rolled his shoulders back. He grabbed more and placed it into the bowl, releasing a with a bit of force before sitting the tongs down. “I think I want a bit more tomato.”

Fork in hand, trying to pin down a slice of tomato so he could cut it. His right hand hovered awkwardly, meant to steady the cutting board, but his left — the one gripping the fork — trembled just enough to betray him.

The fork slipped.

The tomato skidded to the side, smearing juice across the surface. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

You didn’t speak either. You knew better than to rush in with help he hadn’t asked for yet.

He reset the slice, pressing the fork down again. His grip was too tight — his knuckles pale from the strain — but the tremor in his fingers wouldn’t let up. The fork scraped against the board, missing the tomato entirely this time.

A sharp pain ran through his forefinger and he dropped the fork, cursing under his breath as he massaged his purlicue.

His gaze stayed locked on the tomato, his shoulders tense.

“You did good. You and the tongs are quite the dynamic duo.”

Nanami felt a heated tear well in his eye before he sucked it back in. “This. Its all so hard sometimes. A fork? I can’t hold a damn fork and its been months.”

He needed to let the frustrations out. It was going to be the only way he could get over those hurdles to feeling whole again.

You stood in silence for a moment, giving him space to process and feel. “Don’t give yourself a timeline but do give yourself grace.”

“Is this all worth it?” You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself until he took a few steps back and leaned against the counter looking at you. “Will I be the same person I was before all this? Because I feel like even when I’m giving 200%, I’m failing with no progress.”

“This feels like it’s never going to get better,” Nanami said, his voice low — almost too calm, but there was an edge to it. A rare crack in the carefully composed man standing next to you.

The words hung between you both, heavier than the silence.

You gave him a moment before you spoke. “It’s frustrating,” you said softly. “I know.”

Nanami’s jaw shifted, his lips pressing into a firm line. He didn’t respond right away, as if letting the admission sit out in the open was already more than he was prepared for.

His hand flexed at his side — open, then closed — before, at last, he exhaled through his nose. “Can you help me?”

The question was quiet, but it felt like a victory in its own right.

You nodded, letting him take a few steps forward before stepping in slowly so he had the chance to pull back if he wanted. When he didn’t, you picked up the fork, steadying the tomato with your other hand. The prongs sank into the skin with a soft pop — a simple act, but weighted with everything unspoken.

Nanami’s hand hovered near yours for a moment, then dropped back to his side.

He didn’t thank you, but the small, almost imperceptible nod he gave was enough.

You didn’t push for more words. Instead, you handed him the knife, stepping back just far enough to let him reclaim some of the space —he had let you stand just a little closer, and it was a sign that he was willing to let you in to help.

[shanastoryteller]

SHANA HAVE YOU SEEN ARCANE? IF NOT GO DO THAT AND JOIN ME IN MY INSANITY WITH JAYVIK. Otherwise its dealers choice and some happy valentines chocolates for you 💕💋

Castiel has gone rogue, has torn down the wall keeping the cage at bay, and Dean is going to have to face him alone if Sam can’t figure out how to get out of his own head.

Absorbing the memories of what he’d done when he’d been soulless had hurt. To know that any version of him was capable of that kind of callousness, of the kind of ruthless efficiency he’d always turned up his nose at, was a blow.

But absorbing the memories of the cage may very well kill him. Everyone seems to expect it to, if it doesn’t drive him outright insane. It’s likely the most he can hope for is that it leaves him cationic, that he stays in this safe little place in his mind that Lucifer can’t touch and leave the rest of the world to rot. He already destroyed himself to save it once, why should he have to go through that again?

For the same reason he did it the first time.

The world still has Dean in it. He can’t leave his brother to suffer if there’s anything he can do about it.

When he finds across the version of himself that knows the cage, he has to clamp down on the urge to tremble. He’s standing there, half hidden in shadow, leaning against the wall like he can’t hold up his own weight.

He’s covered head to toe in blood.

“Hey,” he says then swallows. Soulless had been aggressive, had been angry, hadn’t hesitated to engage with him. Cage seems like he can barely keep breathing.

It’ll make him easy to kill, easy to reintegrate, but he doesn’t know what that will leave him as when he’s done.

Just killing the guy after everything he’s been though doesn’t seem right. He licks his lips. “Look, I don’t know how aware you are of everything that’s going on, but I – we – I mean.” He swallows. “Dean’s in trouble and I can’t help him without remembering. Everything. And I know I’m not strong enough to deal with everything you’ve delt with-”

“Why do you say that?”

Sam startled. Cage’s voice is raspy, but not weak. There’s no fear, no tears, just simple curiosity. “I – what?”

“Why do you say that?” Cage repeats.

“I,” he thinks back on Soulless’s memories, of how he’d been on board with getting his soul back up until he’d found out what it would do to him, of how they’d described the tattered remains of who he used to be. “They said it would destroy me. You don’t – you don’t look to be in great shape.”

Cage shrugs. “People have always underestimated us, Sam. You know that. They didn’t think we’d be able to take control of Lucifer and we did that.”

“What?” he laughs incredulously. “It was just a hunky dory time in there with Lucifer? You look like shit.”

“And you think Lucifer did this to us?” Cage smiles, Sam can see the white of his teeth against his blood covered face. It should be disturbing, a sign of a cracked mind, a cracked soul, but it just looks like a normal smile. “You know us. You know us better than I do at this point. When have we ever stopped fighting?”

“We fought the devil,” he says flatly. “In the cage.”

“Do you know what powers angel’s grace? Demon’s abilities?” he asks.

Sam shakes his head.

“Human souls,” he says. “It’s the greatest source of power on any of the three planes. And if you know Enochian, you can harness that same power. It took a while, but eventually we learned.” He tilts his head to the side. “I won’t lie, Sam. Lucifer put us through things that no person should experience, a type of hell that broke us more than once. But we were in that cage a long, long time. Souls heal. Grace disconnected from heaven just runs out. I’m thankful to be out, but given a few more centuries, well. Lucifer wouldn’t just be in the cage. He’d be gone.”

Sam doesn’t understand, doesn’t believe it. “So you used your own soul to fight the devil? With the angel’s language? That’s–”

“What did we have to lose?” Cage interrupts. “Michael and Lucifer distracted each other occasionally, and Michael keeps Adam unaware. All we had was fighting and surviving. If we could kill Lucifer for good, what did it matter what state it left our soul in?”

“Then why hide?” he challenges. “Death and Castiel put you away. Why hide even now? If it’s not that bad, why let yourself be walled away?”

“It is that bad,” Cage says softly. “You’re just that strong.”

Sam swallows.

He used to believe that about himself.

“I’ve spent centuries in the cage,” he says. “Some days I barely remember life on Earth. I’ve changed. I had no reason not to.” He looks away for the first time. “I did it for Dean. I never forgot that. And Dean got me out, he saved me, but,” he meets Sam’s eyes. “I remember what it was like to have Dean look at me like he didn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to go through that again. You, he knew. You, he recognized. I thought it was better. You didn’t need the person you became in the cage once we were out of it and I wanted,” he cuts himself off again.

It's okay.

Sam knows.

“You wanted to be someone Dean would be willing to sell his soul for,” Sam says.

He’d never wanted what Dean did, but he’s always felt crushed under the weight of being worthy of it, of the loss and fear when he felt he wasn’t. It’s such a fucked up metric to measure love against, if someone would be willing to go to hell for you, but Dean’s the one who set it. He’s just following suit.

He’d do anything for Dean.

“Dean needs our help,” Sam says. “Castiel-”

“I know,” Cage says. “Even a juiced up Cas isn’t Lucifer. We’ll be able to take care of him. You need to know what I know and there’s no way to teach you Enochian without everything you had to go through to learn it. I’m sorry.”

“We’ve got a year of fresh memories,” he says. “A year of our life on earth front and center. It’ll help. They won’t feel so far away from us after.”

Dean will still love them after.

“You hope,” Cage scoffs.

Sam smiles and lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah. It’s all we’ve ever had, right?”

Cage smiles again, pushing off the wall to stumble forward. Sam catches him when his knees buckle, looking into his own face, his own eyes. They are different. But not unfamiliar.

Souls heal. Whatever Lucifer did to him, whatever he did to himself in there, it’s not irreversible. There’s a difference between scarred and bleeding.

“You’re going to be okay,” Cage says, offering him a knife that Sam hadn’t even noticed him carrying. “You can do this.”

Sam swallows, giving a nod before taking the hilt and plunging it into Cage’s chest. He holds him through it, hearing the wet gasp against his hear. “Yes,” he says softly. “We can.”

When he opens his eyes in the panic room, all versions of him settled into one, into just Sam, he doesn’t waste time mourning the people he used to be.

Dean needs him.

[softness-and-shattering]

Most of my autistic friends expect that their friendships will one day out of the blue blow up in their face as people vent built-up frustrations about behaviours that annoyed others that was never ever communicated to them, and/or because of whats called "the double empathy problem" which describes one of the main ways allistic-autistic communication goes sideways. Ive been in social groups - discord type groups - where the autistics get kicked out because we are speaking plainly and askingd questions, and the mods or admin or other authority figures interpret these questions as deliberate insubordination and challenges to their authority, get "tired and fed up" with "the disrespect" and start kicking people. I have seen this happen in disability groups.

And its not all black and white. Like sometimes I can pick up on social cues because I have deliberately learned them, or learned them the hard way. I can even sometimes say one thing and mean another, but I dont often. I might pick up on one cue and totally miss another. Sometimes I just dont know why someone is saying something, theyre obviously implying something but I dont know what. This can get tricky when someone wants to indicate something without being able to be quoted about it, and sometimes I need to ask them to clarify and if theyre still dodgy I have to guess and hope I got it right.

And sometimes we're aware of unspoken rules but we dont recognise their authority over us because theyre bad or nonsensical. We tend to stick to rules if we understand them and they make sense. When theyre crap rules, I dont care how much money someone makes I will treat them the same as everyone else. I dont care how many high status cars someone has, we are equals.

Im getting off track - my point is that basically every autistic I know has ongoing trauma of friendships and social groups suddenly turning on them for no discernable reason and no warning and absolutely no previous indication that anything was wrong - sometimes after being explicitly told everything was ok the day before. This happens to us all the time. Its so damaging and so hurtful.

Personally I dont second guess as a general rule. I someone has a problem with me I trust they will tell me about it and we can problem solve and introspect. If Im not told, no matter what vibes Im picking up bc I dont know if the vibes are real or my own anxieties, I will act like nothing is wrong. If someone wants to blow up at me that has reflects zero on me and entirely on their inability to speak up about whatever was bothering them. Thats not a me problem. I cannot do anything with zero information.

Lemme induct you in an autistic way of bring and introduce you to a script you can use. Something like "hi friend, can I talk to you for a second about the meeting yesterday? [If Y continue, if N ask when you can talk to them about it.*] So I dont know if you noticed, but you spent the whole time tapping your fingernails on the table, and honestly the noise was distracting and mightve been irritating for some people. I just thought you should know bevause I dont think anyone else was going to bring it up with you. Could you please find a quieter way to stim/do what you need to/move in the ways you need to to concentrate. Ok thank you, no ones super upset just mildly irritated I think. I just figured someone should actually tell you"

Or even "hi. You spent the whole meeting earlier tapping on the table and it was pretty loud. Could you please find a way to be quieter in meetings, its just a bit distracting for some people? Awesome thank you".

Just be polite and straightforward, say what you want and what the problem is. Assume competence, sometimes we make deliberate choices against the status quo for important reasons not cluelessness. And give time for them to figure out an alternative, be undsrstanding if they cant. Just use your words, communicate clearly. It might feel a little confrontational but believe me its not as bad as bring dropped as a friend or fired out of nowhere. That sucks**

*Dont just say "can we talk", give a reason, otherwise they will likely spend the time between notification and meeting inventing every worse case scenario they can possibly think of. A couple words of context goes a long way.

** I came across a youtuber who, idk for sure if theyre autistic but they talk with an extremely flat effect (meaning, little tonal variance between words, not much expression in the voice, every word comes out more or less the same, "robotic"), which is an autistic trait. They mentioned in a video that they had a 'normal' job before youtube, until one day they found themself fired, given reason was their flat effect scared people and made them seem unfriendly and unhappy to be there and interacting. Sounded like it was completely out of the blue. Thats a job lost due to ableism though possibly no one involved sees it that way. Some people cant change how they speak or dont want to. Shouldnt have to. But at least mention it, see if the person is willing to adjust, and consider if it truly disqualifies them from being able to perform the job or is it just a little unusual.

I saw some snippet of a callout post for an autistic trans woman where they list social faux pas she committed, and I think we allistic people should all feel 100x more ashamed of not telling people in the moment how we feel about what they're doing. I think its extremely evil and cruel to not only lie to an autistic person and blame them for it but also to feel justified shaming them for your behavior. And it's currently the social norm to do that

[marsian-tango]

yandere older cowboy x boss's daughter who is an innocent country girl and barely knows that the person she trusts most is the one she should fear most

Yandere Cowboy

Living in a bubble of sunshines and rainbows is the best! People make it sound as if living unaware of how the real world is was a bad thing, but it’s not.

Your life is perfect, it’s always been that way. You were born in a caring family, living amongst cute animals, being surrounded by the sweetest townsfolk.

In fact, you don’t even remember having a single bad day!

You love your life. You love helping around the farm. You love staying on the farm. Why would you ever want to leave? Your whole life is here!

And even if you had the strange desire to leave, you could never live with the guilt of being away from your family—their hearts ache with the mere thought of you leaving them!

Your saccharine smiles, your adorable personality, your incandescent kindness. They need to look out for you! You’re far too pure to be able to take care of yourself. The rotten people of this world are looking to sink their teeth on your untainted skin.

But don’t fret! As long as you stay on this farm and remain in your parents’ sight, everything will be as perfect as always.

But will these walls they’ve built be enough to keep you away from the monsters’ harm, when one of those monsters is within these very walls himself?

As delicate as a flower and as bubbly as hot apple cider.

That’s how you were often described.

You always do your chores without complaining, you respect your elders, you help whoever is in need, and you are kind to everybody—no matter what. That’s what you were taught, how you were raised.

You aren’t one to cause trouble, you rather avoid conflict at all cost—but it’s not like you ever had a chance to be rebellious either. You always stick to your parents, like when you visit the nearby town, or even when you try to sell some of your own harvest on your little stand at the agricultural fair. You were never allowed to get too close to people, it’s been that way ever since you were in elementary school—where you didn’t have friends like other kids did, you just had acquaintances.

And although you have the most fun when you spend time with your animal friends at your heavenly farm, you can’t help but want a little more.

“Y/N, get here, sweetie!”

You yelp at the thunderous voice of your mom resonating outside the house.

You take off your oven mittens and set them on the counter, heading to the door and stepping out. Your boots slide across the dirt with a bouncy pace, walking past your little garden—where you have the liberty to plant whatever you want, since you aren’t allowed to do it near the crops.

“What is it, momma?” You smile at her, waiting for her directions with your hands behind your back. You don’t really help around the farm unless your parents specifically tell you to. If they don’t give you the precise instructions of what to do, then you just…keep to yourself. You’ve lived on this farm your whole life, and you’re pretty grown now, but you still don’t trust yourself fully with these things.

“Your daddy’s fixin’ the tractor, the Fletchers took Luisa to the vet, and I need to change the water heater,” She explains quickly, carrying a rag in one hand and a tool box on the other. “So that only leaves you to feed the hungry beasts.”

“Alright, momma.” You nod briefly, as you both start to walk, heading to opposite directions. “Oh! I left a pie in the oven, could you take it out for me?”

“Sure, sweetie!” She shouts before entering the house.

You love spending time with the animals of the farm. They’re always there for you, the cows always let you hug them and nuzzle them—even if it gets kinda annoying after a while; the sheep cuddle with you on the barn on the afternoons when you got nothing else to do; and the chickens are like feathered puppies that you can pet whenever you want. They’re your truest friends!

People tend to think that living in a secluded farm is ‘lonely’ and ‘depressing’, but, boy, are they wrong! You don’t only got your cattle and herd to keep you company, the workers that come to help from time to time are quite friendly too.

And, sure. Your parents don’t exactly approve of you spending time with them, but how can you avoid them when they’re the ones who purposefully seek you out?

Like right now.

“Whatcha doin’, sugar?”

Your breath hitches in anticipation as you recognise the familiar presence, making you halt in your actions. Now—with the trough filled with food for the sheep—you set your bucket down and turn to greet the newfound company.

“Elliot!” You beam with joy, practically throwing yourself at him and wrapping your arms around his neck—standing on your tiptoes to get to his level.

Elliot. Your Elliot. Oh, how empty would your life be without him.

Elliot Halls. Your dear neighbor. The one man that your dad trusts the most. He’s your parents’ business partner, always helping around the farm, whether it's with the management stuff, or the manual one. 

You didn’t really interact with him much until up to two years ago. You were always so busy with school and house chores, and when you finished school, you finally had time to…socialize a bit.

And now you two are basically best friends! He’s the only person that your parents fully trust you around, and—although you love spending time with the animals—you think he might be your favorite person ever!

He’s just so fun, and sweet—and he doesn’t mind hearing you ramble about your interests, or the little things that you find charming, like sunsets or lilies; he lends you a hand when you work, no matter what it is, or if you can do it on your own; he gives you tips for your garden; he brings you stuff you like from when he stops by in town.

“Momma told me to feed the animals, the woolly cuties were the last ones on the list.” You untangle your arms from his neck and take a step back, but he keeps you close to him with a hand on your back. “You usually rest on Thursdays, why are you here?” You tilt your head in confusion.

Elliot grins softly, gently caressing your back over the fabric of your pink overalls. He relishes the sight of you. Your slightly disheveled hair, your favorite overalls—with different embroideries scattered all over it, your smile wrinkles, and that scent—the scent that haunts him in his dreams. The scent that he hopes to find wherever he goes. The scent that clings to your skin.

Cinnamon, carnations, and innocence.

“I heard the tractor needs some fixin’, thought I could stop by and lend a hand.” He explains calmly.

Yeah, cause he totally didn’t come to the farm just to see you, and he totally hasn't been following you around ever since you cooked that apple pie this morning. He would never do such a thing.

Did anybody tell him that the tractor broke down? No. Did he hear your mother mention it while he was watching you? Maybe.

“Oh, but daddy can handle it just fine! Wontcha stay with me instead?” You plead hopefully. “We can go to the lake, or take a stroll. Please!” You knew he had responsibilities. Being the most trusted helper of the farm meant that there were certain things that my parents only trusted him to do, but you just have so much fun when you’re with him!

He gives you a tense smile, trying not to frown in frustration at his own choice. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I should really help your daddy out,” He needed to keep the professional act a bit, stay in your parents’ good graces. If he doesn’t, your parents might not allow you to be around him as much as you do. “But we can do whatever you want after, you just have to be patient.”

You sigh, nodding your head in defeat. Elliot bites his lip, trying to control the cuteness aggression that he gets from looking at you. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you let him, resting your head against his broad chest. You’ve never said no to a warm cuddle from Elliot after all.

While you remain absentmindedly, Elliot feels like he’s about to snap.

You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?

He’s losing his mind, he doesn’t know if he can take much more of…this. He’s the only one that can have precious, little you trapped in his arms like this. So close he can smell your shampoo. So close he can feel your heartbeat. So close he could just…not let you go.

He needs you. He needs to have you. He needs to prevent anyone from getting to you first. He needs to protect your innocence…and keep it for himself.

But he has to be patient, to play his cards right.

And one day…he’ll get to you. Really get to you. Your parents won’t even get to notice before he snatches you from them. Because unlike the poor bastards that want to jump over the walls that your parents have built and get a piece of your delicate flesh, he doesn’t need to intrude.

He’s already inside.

“Try startin’ it now, boss!”

Your dad frowns, Elliot’s said that twice in the past hour. He doesn’t doubt Elliot’s capacities, but after so many failed tries, he’s starting to lose hope on the old tractor.

He shrugs his shoulders with resignation before starting the engine, expecting the same dead silence that he heard all the previous times.

To the men’s surprise, it lets out a whirring sound before finally starting, making both men cheer in pride.

“Bout’ damn time!” Elliot sighs in relief, cleaning his oily hands with a rag.

Your dad smiles softly, patting Elliot’s back as he passes by. He walks towards the tool scattered table, grabbing two beers from the red cooler, and sitting down on a square bale.

He tosses Elliot one of the cans. “You’re a good kid, Halls.” He opens the can and takes a swig. “There aren’t many boys like you nowadays. Boys who help, who respect, who don’t overstep…” He says solemnly with a blank stare, seemingly lost in thought.

Elliot stiffens, but plays it off by taking a cautious sip from the cold beer. He offers his boss a dismissive grin, feigning modesty. “Oh, please, sir. There are other boys who help ‘round the farm too, there's Davis; Thompson; those Fletcher boys—who are a bit troublesome, not gon’ lie, but—”

“You wanna know what they all got in common?” Elliot feels the air in the barn shift, it feels colder, heavy. Now he really gets what ‘walking on thin ice’ means. He bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly hyper aware of the trouble he could be in if he makes a wrong move.

He keeps his gaze steady on his boss and listens.

“They’re vultures.”

Elliot gulps.

“Everytime I turn ‘round they’re there, circling my daughter. Tryin’ to coax her, to lure her, to trick her—and it’s not her fault that she doesn’t notice. How could it be? She doesn’t know what those boys wanna take from her, what they would do to a girl like her...”

Elliot’s jaw clenches at the notion of some boy trying to get their hands on you, taking advantage of your kind heart, consuming you whole—instead of protecting you, taking you away from him. His grip on the can tightens as he takes a confident sip this time.

The older man takes another swig before speaking. “But…I trust you.”

Your dad looks at Elliot, his gaze unwavering, not a trace of doubt in his eyes. “So, while me and the Mrs aren’t ‘round, I want you to take care of my lil’ girl. I want you to keep those vultures in check. I want you to never let her outta your sight, ever.” 

Your dad and Elliot share many things in common, they’re both hardworking country men; they know how hard it is to maintain a farm; they don’t like relying on other people; and they cannot bear the thought of anything bad coming your way. Just the thought of someone hurting you makes them see red. They would do anything to keep you safe, because they know that this world is just too corrupt for your precious self to roam unprotected.

You’ve lived in a shielded bubble of love and untainted sweetness your whole life, and now there are dirty beasts ready to strike, looking to ravish your succulent purity until there’s nothing left.

They can’t allow that. They’ll fight tooth and nail against those parasites, leaving no trace of the dirty vermin, till your bubble gleams and glistens with only your innocent shine.

Elliot holds his gaze, just as intensely. “I understand, sir,” He says with determination. “I’ll never let anything happen to Y/N, I swear on my life.”

The man gives an approving nod, seemingly more at ease now, with a calmer demeanor. “I gotta say, your folks raised you well. Cause you’re no boy, Halls,” Elliot raises an eyebrow in curiosity, urging him to continue.

“You’re a man.”

You could never get tired of afternoons like this.

Walking alongside Elliot as the sun sets in the distance, letting the gentle breeze cool you both, watching the clouds drift away slowly in the sky, chatting about anything and everything. Truly enjoying each other’s presence.

To you, it’s the best way to finish yet another good day.

To Elliot, it’s just like all the other moments he spends with you. Heavenly.

“What?!” The shock that overtakes you almost makes you stop in your tracks. Your eyebrows raise in astonishment, your mouth is agape. You are the spitting image of the word ‘flabbergasted’.

“I’m just sayin’,” He shrugs. “Black licorice isn’t as bad as people say it is.” He repeats with an amused smile, taking in your surprised expression as he keeps walking.

“You have the taste of an old man!” You grimace in disgust, as if the taste itself had settled on your tongue from the mere mention of it.

Elliot laughs, ruffling your hair playfully, which only earns an annoyed grumble from you.

“And you got too much of a sweet tooth, sugar, but you don’t hear me complainin’.” He refutes.

His self control is wearing thin, but he needs to get a hold of himself. He can’t screw this up, he’s gotten so far already!

But you’re so cute. Ugh! Do you seriously don’t know what you’re doing to him?!

You two keep walking through the meadow without a care in the world. You enjoy walking around this part of the farm, it’s quieter, intimate. It’s just you and Elliot. No chores to do, no work to keep you busy, just…peace.

Ahead of you, you can see your house, it looks like a mere speck of color from where you’re standing, but it’s still recognizable. The last time you were in the house today was when you were making your pie, before your mom called you. You appreciate the present distance keeping you away from the residence, you’re not really eager to get back just yet, you want to spend some more time with Elliot.

If only you knew that he felt the same way, just a thousand times more.

“Say, sweetheart…” Elliot begins, breaking the comfortable silence that enveloped you both. “You trust me, right?” He makes sure to say it in a nonchalant manner, masking his real emotions the same way he always does when they get too intense.

You perk up at the unexpected inquiry, slowing your pace until you stop altogether, standing in front of him. You tilt your head at him incredulously.

“Of course I do, Elliot, you’re my best friend!” You take his hand in yours, squeezing it reassuringly. You look up at him with a soft gaze. “How could you even doubt that?” You’re confused. Where did this come from? Why would he ask such a question out of the blue? Does he really doubt how important this friendship is to you?

Elliot has to bite down his lower lip to prevent himself from smirking at your naive charm. He squeezes your hand back, drawing small circles with the pad of his thumb.

His eyes are locked on you, and he’s mesmerized.

The orange glow of the sunset reflects on your skin. Your eyes shine with tender care—care for him. The gentle hold of his hand on yours sends a shiver down his spine.

“Then…promise me,” His voice is sultry, vulnerable, almost begging. “Promise me that you’ll never leave me. No matter who comes into your life. Promise that you’ll stay with me no matter what.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. You just stare at each other, each of you saying a different thing through your eyes. Your gaze remains soft, while his turns dark.

This may seem like no big deal to you, but to Elliot…this is an oath.

He’s already made his own.

He will never let you go. He’ll make sure those boys never get to you. He’ll protect your bubble and never let anything ruin your perfect life. He’ll make you happy, even when he takes you away from your parents. He’ll stay by your side till your old and gray—scratch that. He’ll stay with you till you guys stop breathing, then he’ll chase you up to heaven, and then he’ll be with you for the rest of eternity.

This promise isn’t just words, it isn’t something that you can just break and then carry on with your life.

He can have you either way, he doesn’t need you to promise him this to snatch you away from your life and keep you with him forever.

But he wants you to love him, and to do that he needs you willingly bound to him.

You let the silence hang in the air before speaking, smiling warmly.

“I promise, Elliot.”

Hello, everybody!!! It took me a while, but at last it's here. It was kinda difficult to come up with something for this request, and it's not very long (I'm sorry about that), and it's also kinda cringe. Because, although I received some help with the whole cowboy stuff (thank you, @hysterucall and @0uch1e), it felt kinda wrong to write the dialogues without being a cowboy myself 😣. Either way, I hope that whoever requested this likes it. Let me know if you see any mistakes, and don't be afraid to make another request.

Kisses <3

[elzifelzi]

PHANTOM

CHAPTER TWO

Chapter 2:BEWARE!

The box ghost approached the boys slowly and began firing a flurry of ghost rays at them but they barely managed to dodge that.The boys who were terrified at the events that was currently transpiring realized that they were sitting ducks out in the open so they took refuge behind Tuckers work desk and began trying to formulate a plan. 

Tucker :”Danny do something!!?”

Dan:”Why me!!?”

Tucker :”dude you literally have super powers!”

Dan scratched the back of his head in response to Tucker's words. 

Dan:” why don't you do something?”

Tucker :”no way man, he's a ghost and I'm black. I've seen enough horror movies to know that this won't end well for me!”

As soon as that sentence left Tucker's mouth a ghost ray hit his work desk disintegrating it on the spot. Dan, not having any other options, took Tucker's advice and jumped in front of the box ghost preparing to face him. 

Box ghost :”ahh a human with a death wish, your soul would be the perfect accessory for my boxes.” 

Dan:”I'm not even sure I have a soul anymore, but if I did I'm sure I wouldn't let you have it. “

Box ghost :”ahhh so you wanna challenge me boy? your death will be swift.”

Dan clenched his fist and began concentrating just as he had before, if he could turn from ghost to human then surely he should be able to do the reverse right? His theory was right and in a flash of light he regained his ghostly appearance. Turning towards the box ghost, his eyes glowing green with anger , Dan now had a new air of confidence around him. 

Dan: “alright ghost, let's rumble!”

This sudden change surprised the box ghost,while shapeshifting was a common ghost power a human being able to switch from human to ghost at will was unheard of.

Box ghost :”a ghost, who can willingly shift from human to ghost is unheard of.”

A sinister grin spread across his face. 

Box ghost : “your soul just became 10 times more valua....”

The ghost's words were cut short as Danny delivered a strong right hook at his jaw and then followed up with another one to his stomach knocking the ghost through a wall.

He followed up with a furious barrage of  punches to his face, leaving it practically unrecognizable. 

Tucker:”dude thats amazing! how'd you get used to your powers so fast?”

Dan shrugs.

Dan:”I haven't. I'm just fighting how I normally would, I think my ghost strength is the thing that's actually damaging him.” 

Tucker:”well whatever you did seems to have worked you knocked him out.” 

Box ghost :”oh child, you have no idea how wrong you truly are.” 

The box ghost immediately recovered and useing his ecto energy created many box shaped projectiles, he launched them  at Dan , Dan who was still unfamiliar with his powers was blindsided by them and was buried under more than a dozen of the ghosts boxes. Tucker continued hiding from a safe distance. 

Dan: “boxes? I survive a portal exploding in my face only to die by boxes!?”

Dan's words upset the box ghost, almost as if they had some kind of deeper meaning to him. 

Box ghost : “You think this is funny!!You think this Is some kinda joke!??’

In a fit of rage the box ghost  seized Tucker by the throat and threw him out the window, leaving him to perish. 

Box ghost: “your soul is as good as mine ghost boy, you haven't won, I'll be back another day to reclaim it!”

And like that he disappeared. Dan without a second jumped out of the window diving  after Tucker, he managed to get a hold of him but they were still falling at a rapid  speed. 

Tucker:”Now would be a good time to practice flying Danny!!!”

Dan:”you don't think I want to?!I don't know how!!”

Tucker:”Then this is gonna hurt!!”

Dan:”no it won’t!”

Just as the two were about to hit the ground, Dan managed to switch places with Tucker cushioning his fall. His body crashed into the ground with a loud thud but successfully managed to prevent Tucker from getting hurt.

Dan:”ouch!you okay?”

Tucker immediately stood up and began inspecting his body for bruises.

Tucker:”Yeah I’m good,you?”

Dan:”in excruciating pain but no major “damage.

Tucker offers him a hand and pulls him up.

Tucker:”how’d you know that you’d survive that?”

Dan:”I.. didn’t.:

Tucker simply stared at him in silence.

Dan:”what!?”

He gives Dan a fistbunp.

Tucker:”Thanks for saving me man.You’re an idiot..but thanks.“

Dan rubbed the back of his head

Dan:”don't mention it, but that freak will be back again and I don't think I'm strong enough to beat him.”

Tucker :”Then we just gotta make you stronger. Time for a little training session.”

Dan:”you're acting like I'm some kind of superhero.”

Another grin spreads on Tucker's face.

Tucker :”That's not such a bad idea, you could actually be a hero.” 

Dan chuckles 

Dan:”I'm not so sure about that,besides what would I even call myself?”

Tucker:”How about Danny Phantom?”

Dan:”That sounds super lame, just Phantom is alright.”

Tucker playfully punches Dan in his arm.

Tucker:”Don't be a hater.”

The boys returned to their room and almost immediately began preparations for Dan's training unbeknownst to them the box ghost  wasn't working alone.

After leaving the scene he flew around Amity city until he met a swirly green vortex,entered it and arrived at an eerie area, where the sky was black and the surroundings were green,it was so unsightly that it made hell itself look like a nice place to live, it was almost an empty void that seemed to stretch forever in each direction a void that could drive the sanest man mad just for daring to ponder what lay beyond it. He continued his journey until he landed on what appeared to be a floating island enveloped in an ominous green glow , the island resembled a battered skull, with demonic glowing red eyes,after walking around for awhile he was greeted by another ghost , he was a humanoid machine who stood roughly 8 ft tall, his face was structured like a skull with piercing green eyes, the top of his head expelled a strong green Mohawk like flame, while the sides of his face and chin expelled a similar flame that resembled a beard. His upper body was heavily clad in metallic armor, his arms were large enough to make the biggest bodybuilders look small and in place of his right hand was a green glowing hook. He sat on a throne of bones and kept 3 ghosts on leashes, two of them looked like a green octopus with glowing red eyes and the other was a green 3 headed bulldog. Upon seeing the box ghost he let out deep growl and spoke In what can only be described as a demons tone

???? :”What are you doing here and where are the 20 human souls that you promised me?”

The authority that this ghost commanded was so powerful that the Boxghost who to Danny appeared like a frightening monster felt like no more than a small messenger boy.

box ghost :”I have them.”

He levitated 18 small boxes and placed them at the Ghost's feet. After counting them the ghost stood up furiously and using his hook seized the box ghost by his throat. 

???? :”Is this some kind of joke!? Where are the last 2!??”

Box ghost :”I'm sorry skulker I had some difficulties acquiring the last 2..”

Skulker :”What kind of difficulties? What are you too weak to slaughter a few humans? Pathetic.”

Box ghost :”it wasn't a human at least I'm sure it wasn't..”

Skulker tightened his grip on the box ghost's throat.

Skulker :”you'd better start making sense before I take your head as compensation for the missing souls.”

Box ghost :”one of them could switch from ghost to human at will. I don't know how he did it but he wasn't a full ghost!!”

Skulker's demeanor dropped for a moment before regaining his composure.

Skulker :”Is that all? Hah! you're more useless than I thought. What happened to the box ghost who was feared around the entire ghost zone? now you can't handle one ghostly brat it's a shame. “

In frustration, Box ghost fires a punch at Skulker but misses.

Box ghost :”I'm telling you the brat was tough!Not tough enough to beat me but tough enough that if left alone with his powers for longer he could!”

Skulker :”So you're saying this boy isn’t used to his powers yet.”

Box ghost :”fairly new with them from what I’ve seen. “

Skulker:”Interesting,Masters might want to know about this.”

Box ghost:”You’re still working with that human?The bastard’s a ghost hunter,you sure we can trust him?”

Skulker swiftly grabbed the box ghost by his shoulder and began slowly sliding his hook across the box ghost's throat, green blood began oozing out of his neck dripping down the handle of his hook. A chill went up the ghosts' spine, skulker had managed to make a deadman fear death. He then dropped the box ghost to the floor, leaving him holding his neck as Skulker stood on his back.The box ghost squirmed trying to break free but even his muscled physique was weak against skulker's strength. 

Skulker:”You don’t question me.Get it!?”

Hesitantly the box ghost nodded in response.

Skulker:good.

He tossed the ghost aside and sat back on his throne.

Skulker:”but if you must know me and Masters have a very favorable arrangement.”

Box ghost:”how so?”

He asked while rubbing his wounded neck.

Skulker:”It’s simple,we run a few errands for him and on top of supplying me with his new tech he turns a blind eye whenever our crew invades the human world.Those ghost hunters he works with are good but with with him keeping them on such a tight leash we won’t have anything to worry about.”

Box ghost: “not bad but what would he want with the ghost brat?”

Skulker flashes him a sinister grin.

Skulker:”the same thing we all want!”

Box ghost:”Well he can have what's left of the brat after I’m through with him!”

Skulker:”no! You’re done with him for now!This brat is much too Valuable to leave in your hands.”

In anger, the box ghost punches against the ground.

Box ghost:”Dammit! And what the hell am I supposed to do!”

Skulker takes his hook and stabs it into the ghost's chest!

Skulker :”You’ll do well to watch your  mouth when you speak to me!! As for what you’ll be doing,you’ll be getting me 50 more souls to compensate for the 2 you let get away!!Do I Make Myself Clear!?”

The box ghost hesitantly nods.

Box ghost :”But what about the ghost boy?? 

Skulker pressed his foot harder into the ghosts back, cracking what could only be his spine. 

Skulker :”Leave him to me, he interfered in my business so it's only fitting that I deal with him accordingly.But until I can properly assess his value my pets will keep him company In the meantime.”

He glanced at his pets and as if on cue one octopus and one dog both flew away.

Skulker:”That should keep the boy busy.” 

He directed his attention back to the box ghost.

Skulker:”You're still here? get out of my sight!”

He kicked the ghost away and left. 

Box ghost :”You may be stronger now, but soon I'll reign supreme once more!!!.”

The box ghost immediately set out to complete the task that skulker instructed him Unbeknownst to him Skulker was there watching his every move. 

Skulker : “Does that fool really believe that he could overthrow me? Ha! After I get the souls from him, and I'm done with the ghost boy I'll mount both their heads over my wall.”

To be continued

Chapter 1

Authors note..

Thanks for reading🙂

Hope you enjoyed

this chapter marks the first appearance of Skulker one of the big bads of this season hope you guys liked him.

Next chapter will be out next week.

[silkenwinger]

Soap's been having fun lately. Lots of gym, swimming. Eating his heart out. He misses the action, but his condition has finally improved enough that he can at least enjoy life's simplicities. He greets the old people in his complex, takes on small jobs to keep busy while he mostly lives off the pension until he finds something more meaty to get his hands on. He doesn't have a dryer back home, and he hates hanging clothes, so every Friday he gets to the laundromat, pays for his washing and sits there waiting for it to be done, sketchbook in hand. Every time he goes there, the same arrangement of people finds him: older ladies, some eternal bachelors, and the sweet younger thing that lives just upstairs from the laundry.

It's not his fault he tends to monopolise the attention, you hear him? Classmates would roll their eyes when teachers took him under their wing just because he was funny. Everyone there knows all of his business; his inside voice never really developed outside of life threatening situations. He announces he has an interview for some construction worksite ("they do interviews nowadays?") and that he's excited to have a full time job again. The pensioners wish him good luck. You, instead, invite him for a drink together back at your house.

You're lovely, really. Pretty, funny, the whole package. But, um. He's still not fully recovered from the incident. He's afraid he won't be able to perform at his best. He also thinks you deserve to be with someone a little less scarred, someone who can share a general life path with you. Not someone whose dream is already over. Not someone like him.

But he still has pride. A male part of him simply doesn't think he has any right to refuse your invitation. And it doesn't necessarily mean that you want him that way to begin with, he shakes his head. You have a generous nature, he can tell. Maybe you're a bit lonely in this big city and just need someone to talk to.

The two of you have a lovely dinner together, actually. You cooked the lamb meat tenderly, just as he likes it without even knowing it. He's just about to tell you that he's had a great time, but that he should really go back home, because the interview is tomorrow and he has to wake up early...

He starts feeling weird. Lead in his legs, his head throbbing where he was shot, blood pooling behind his eyes. He sees you get up from the chair before his vision goes dark.

He wakes up some time later, his head full of cotton. His back is on a soft surface and his limbs immobilized, still caged even as he shakes, full force not recovered yet. Hearing him struggle, you slither in the room, immediately coming to his bedside. Even as he yells and convulses, desperately trying to set himself free, you don't speak, just try to pet his hair through the shakes. He decides to shut up for a moment then, still not totally sure of what's going on, if this is a joke. You speak then.

"Oh Johnny," you sigh, looking at him with so much pity he's only getting more confused, your hand still in his hair, "you didn't think I would let you be in danger again, right?"

[bytemee]

extra content (chapter eight) | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — read chapter eight before this, social media only chap, my silly humour, youtube & twitter themed, suggestive jokes, and let me know if there's more.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 1.9k

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— um tried something different

taglist (open) — @sunshinez4 @gtfoiydlyj @yuyuy90 @liaponderstings @rinapomu @bimkayd @minaripenguu

series masterlist. main masterlist. chapter eight.

Y/N in Milan | PRADA S/S 2025 Womenswear Show behind

1.1M views | 367.2k likes | Nov 20, 2024

[the vlog begins]

(about to get on the plane headed to milan)

the camera focuses on your face as you wait in line to board the plane, headphones slung around your neck, a hat pulled low over your head. you're standing there, feeling a little bit in awe of how far you've come. "guess what popped into my head today?" you say, tilting your head toward the lens with a small smile.

"i thought about my first world tour and all of a sudden i was just like... am i getting old?" you laugh a little, shaking your head. "the world tour for she was over four years ago, and i was so young, but it feels like only yesterday."

(nostalgia creeping in)

"it's crazy, right? time flies by so fast, and you don't even realize how much has changed until you stop and think about it. i mean, a lot has happened in the last four years."

the line starts moving, and you take a step forward, thoughts floating through your mind. it's wild to think about how much has changed in just a few years—things you used to only dream about are happening now, and it all feels like it came out of nowhere.

(fond)

"but i guess it's normal, isn't it? to look back at your younger self and see how much you've changed, or how much you haven't."

[cut scene]

(need to board the plane soon)

"it's crazy," you say, chuckling and shaking your head, "i'm nervous to take off my hat," the line is getting shorter and shorter, and you are closer and closer to boarding the plane. "it's surprise under here. you'll see it soon enough when i'm all the way in milan," the line moves, and you follow suit, throwing up a peace sign.

(*^-^)V

[cut scene]

(stepping off the plane, arriving in milan)

the camera catches you walking through the airport, your energy high as you adjust your bag over your shoulder. "okay, milan, let's do this," you say, looking around as you walk. "i feel like i've missed you more than you've missed me probably," the camera is now facing you as you walk, your voice slightly shaky from the plane ride.

(excited)

"we're here in milan for prada's 2025 womenswear show. im pretty excited, i've been to a few menswear and womenswear shows before, and they're always so unique. each year is just something new, and i'm happy that i'm able to go."

(smiling so hard it's starting to hurt)

"okay, where's the nearest gelato shop?"

[cut scene: you holding a gelato cone, the camera zooming in on the treat.]

"this is literally the best thing i've ever tasted. like, what the...flip." you say, taking another lick of the gelato. the camera is still trained on the gelato, and you laugh at the zoom-in, moving the camera to face you again. "we should stop this," you say, laughing, "it's getting a bit weird, isn't it?"

(still eating gelato, a bit of chocolate at the corner of y/n's mouth)

(is completely oblivious)

(manager is cruel for not telling her)

"milan's gelato is next level, and i'm not even exaggerating," you say, holding up the cone like it's a prized trophy. "this is literally heaven in a cone. like, i could live here and eat this every single day, no problem."

the camera shifts to focus on the gelato, chocolate starting to drip down the side, a messy but beautiful masterpiece.

"i'm not kidding, this might inspire a song," you say, almost to yourself, eyes glued to the cone. "seriously, i'm thinking about writing something. i mean, look at it. how could i not?"

(is very serious)

(the chocolate is still on her face)

softly, you start singing under your breath, voice low and smooth: "i see you when i sleep at night. dwibakkwin natgo bam... you know i dream you, right?"

your eyes flutter closed for a moment as you take another bite, the melody lingering in the air. the camera pans back to your face, chocolate smudged at the corner of your mouth. your eyes suddenly pop open, and you grin wide, realizing what you've just done.

"oh, whoops. i think i just leaked an unreleased song," you say with zero regret, your smile growing wider. behind the camera, jamie groans dramatically.

"it's called 'gelato,'" you announce, licking the cone confidently as the camera zooms in on your face. "don't even think about stealing the title, i mean it."

(a few minutes later)

"okay, real talk, this might be the best thing i've eaten," you pause, contemplating. "or at least top three. yeah, definitely top three." the camera pans down to your now-empty cone as you lick the melted chocolate off your fingers, clearly satisfied.

you toss the cone into a nearby trash bin, wiping your hands on a napkin. "and now, i'm officially ready for the show." with a playful grin, you throw up two peace signs.

V(￣∇￣)V

[cut scene to hotel room]

the camera opens to your hotel room, a perfect blend of cozy luxury, with sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. you're perched in front of a vanity, dressed in a fluffy white robe, while your team is already in full swing. one stylist adds the finishing touches to your makeup, blending highlighter along your cheekbones, while another carefully adjusts your wig—its blonde strands so flawless, it looks like you were born with them.

(dun dun dun)

(hair reveal!!!)

you smile into the mirror as the hair stylist combs through the strands, adding a few pins here and there. you turn to look at the camera, eyes bright and smile wide, the most natural expression ever.

(still feeling out the new color)

"so, we've reached the big reveal, haven't we?" you say, your fingers lightly run through your hair.

[cut scene: quick photoshoot before leaving the hotel]

the next part of the vlog shows a mini-photoshoot happening right in the hotel lobby. there's a portable backdrop and a couple of lights set up, nothing too fancy, but it gets the job done. you're standing in front of it, fully in your outfit now, looking like you just walked out of a magazine.

you move through a bunch of easy poses—hands in your pockets, leaning slightly to the side, tilting your head a little. at one point, you flash a grin, and it feels so natural it might've been unplanned. the photographer keeps snapping away, hyping you up with stuff like, "that's perfect!" and "just one more shot!"

(a quick spin to show off the fit)

you even throw in a little playful spin, laughing because you almost trip, but it ends up looking cool in the footage.

after a few more photos, you call it a wrap, giving the camera a peace sign before heading out the door.

[cut scene: arriving at the event]

the scene cuts to the outside of the car as it pulls up to the event. the second the door cracks open, you hear it—the screams. like, actual screams.

you step out, looking cool but trying not to trip on the way. you adjust your jacket, give the crowd a little smile, and wave. then you wave again. and again. and again, because everywhere you turn, people are shouting your name.

(camera flashes everywhere)

you pause on the red carpet, cameras clicking furiously as you strike a few poised yet approachable poses. you remain composed, but inside, your heart is beating wildly. it doesn't matter how many red carpets you walk, there's something about the excitement, the anticipation, that makes you want to jump out of your skin.

[cut scene: entering the showroom]

the camera follows you as you step into the showroom, and immediately, it's like you've walked into another world. everything feels grand—high ceilings, soft lighting that makes everything look like a movie, and rows of perfectly set chairs with the runway in the middle.

but before you even get a second to take it all in, the cameras are back.

(flashes everywhere again)

photographers are everywhere, snapping pics like it's a competition. you're barely two steps inside, but they already want your attention. you try not to blink, but the flashes are so intense, and they won't stop going off.

(finally got seated) (is just happy to sit for a second)

the camera catches you pulling your phone up, using it as a makeshift mirror while your tongue pokes out in concentration.

(silver-haired y/n, inspecting their look) (not sure yet?)

"it looks better in person," you mutter, mostly to yourself, a small smile tugging at your lips. the silver strands are a bold choice, but it fits. the color looks like it was made for you, and the way the strands catch the light makes your head shimmer.

"it's a change," you admit with a soft laugh, tilting your head as if that'll give you a better view. "but i like it. plus, it's temporary, so no pressure, right?"

[cut scene: still fixing your hair]

a few seconds later, you're back at it, smoothing down the flyaways.

[cut scene: and again]

this time, you frown slightly, brushing the strands down with more focus.

"she'd yell at me if she saw this," you joke quietly, clearly talking about your stylist.

(camera catches y/n looking very serious about this hair thing)

after one last adjustment, you sit back and sigh, smoothing your outfit while flashing the camera an exaggerated frown.

[cut scene]

you stop fussing with your hair, finally sitting back in your seat, waiting for the show to start. you look around, taking in the glamorous atmosphere of the showroom—people chatting, cameras flashing, and everyone looking polished and chic.

as you scan the room, your eyes meet Karina's for a split second. you freeze, almost caught off guard, before quickly looking away, your heart rate picking up a bit. you pause for a second, remembering where you are and the eyes on you.

(AESPAS KARINA 💙💙💙)

with a soft smile, you look back at her, offering a small wave and saying, "hey."

she smiles back, motioning to the camera behind you. you follow her cue and turn the camera with a small smile on your face.

^_^

picking up your your seat indicator card, the one with your name on it, you pose with it like it's the most natural thing in the world.

(so photogenic)

(so natural)

(no awkwardness here)

(just a very cool and talented musician)

[cut scene] the show starts, and you're just sitting back, soaking it all in. the lights dim, the music kicks in, and models start strutting down the runway in all kinds of crazy cool outfits. it's all so surreal, and you can't help but smile, staring at everything happening in front of you.

you pull out your phone, snapping a few pics and trying to keep up with everything without looking like a total tourist.

(snapping a few pictures)

you glance at the camera once more, shrugging a little as if to say, "what can i say, this is really cool."

[cut scene: after the show]

the show's done, and you're walking out of the showroom, still buzzing from the experience. fans are all lined up outside, screaming and waving, and you make sure to wave back, giving them the attention they deserve.

(still waving and smiling)

you blow a few kisses and throw up a peace sign, grinning the entire time.

you keep waving, your energy infectious, and soon, everyone around you is doing the same.

(is so kind to everyone)

(so grateful)

[cut scene]

cut to you, now back in your hotel room, finally alone. you sit down in front of the mirror, letting out a small sigh as you brush your hand through your hair that was now your natural hair color.

(a quiet moment)

"today was a long day," you admit, letting your hands fall in your lap. it was so cool though," you add, nodding. "the glasses and the accessories were just—so cool. and the way they used metal in the outfits? it was everything. so futuristic but still wearable, you know?"

you start to get more excited, gesturing with your hands as you talk. "there were so many different elements used, like a mix of hard and soft textures. so many contrasts, but it all worked together. definitely one of the most fun shows I've ever watched."

(knock knock knock)

you jump a little, pausing, then quickly add, "i'll head out now, bye." you give the camera a small wave.

[end of video]

series masterlist. main masterlist. chapter eight.