#i’m allowed to feel proud of these and want to show these off despite not thinking i look perfect or 100% like the character

[tunaricebowl]

finally got my pics back from the lil shoot i did at the japanese gardens earlier this month c: i honestly didnt know what other pose to do but other than that i think these look super cool! it’s my very first cosplay as well so i’m still figuring out how to be photographed and stuff

[finelinefae]

the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.

word count: 8.5k

contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma

This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!

. . .

Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military.  People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission. 

“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft. 

He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug. 

“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own. 

Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close.  Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.

“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair. 

“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead 

“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother. 

Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips. 

Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.

“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.

“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.

George nodded, “Last time I heard.”

“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.

Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.

Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling. 

“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. 

“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”

George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.” 

Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery. 

. . .

“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon. 

“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job.  She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.

“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”

Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet. 

“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?” 

Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply. 

Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up. 

As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.” 

Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. 

Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life. 

“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.” 

“M her brother,” He corrected. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention. 

“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding. 

“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”

“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?” 

“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.

“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.” 

Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.

“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained. 

“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?” 

“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,” 

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.” 

Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.” 

Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?” 

She paused, “Any friends?” 

“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said. 

“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.” 

“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-” 

“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.” 

Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”

“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing. 

“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?” 

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance. 

“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle. 

Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.

Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”

“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can believe that,” She yelled back.

“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.

Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.

Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.

On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base. 

The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red. 

Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.

“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”

“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. 

“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified. 

“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked. 

Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?” 

“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.” 

“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly. 

“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.

“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen. 

Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”

“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly. 

“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”

“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.” 

“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”

Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added. 

“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.” 

Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her. 

“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”

“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.

“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished. 

Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”

“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night. 

Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.” 

Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.

Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."

Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."

With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.

Keep away from Harry Styles. 

. . .

The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers. 

This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages. 

Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit. 

Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms. 

Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new. 

Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes. 

Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light. 

Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet. 

He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in. 

The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.” 

“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky. 

“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled. 

“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms. 

George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?” 

Harry didn’t reply, instead asking,  “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?” 

George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?” 

The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?” 

George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”

Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”

“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.

“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”

Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.” 

“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”

“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night. 

“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement. 

“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.

“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”

“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.”  Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.

. . .

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to. 

She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too. 

Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails. 

It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man. 

Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him. 

Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse. 

Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist. 

“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.

“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.

“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol. 

“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N. 

“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously. 

“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself. 

Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.

Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were. 

“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined. 

“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted. 

Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better. 

Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return. 

“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”

“A few?” Patsy giggled.

“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre. 

Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy. 

“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them. 

“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies. 

Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”

“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.

Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”

Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances. 

Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that. 

The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”

“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman. 

Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”

Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table. 

“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.

“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table. 

A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.  

Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through. 

He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.

“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke. 

“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile. 

A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted. 

“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist. 

“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be. 

“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen. 

“Hi,” Y/N blushed.

“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke. 

“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified. 

“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.”  Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”

“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name. 

“Harry, c’mere!” He called. 

Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to. 

“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”

“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.

“So you came?” He teased. 

“I did.” She laughed, lightly. 

“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk. 

“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.

“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?” 

"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer. 

Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked. 

“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.

He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?” 

Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air. 

She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances. 

“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.

“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained. 

“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”

“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.

“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of. 

“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”

Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”

“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”

“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.

“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.

Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people. 

The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely. 

Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.

"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin. 

As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.

"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.

"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background. 

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.

"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.

"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.

"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.

"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.

"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.

“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. 

As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about. 

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. 

"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.

Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.

"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.

"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.

Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.” 

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.

Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.” 

“I do want it,” Y/N nodded. 

“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper. 

“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous. 

Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible. 

In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss. 

They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss. 

“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.

“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper. 

“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned. 

“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.” 

Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate. 

“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. 

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.” 

Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”

They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre. 

“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.

Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.” 

Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared. 

She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms.  As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.

Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.

A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.

I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

enter sandman - m. murdock

a/n: see me personally? never seeing the pearly gates. never ever. not after this one . enjoy. feedback always appreciated ! <3 warnings: guys... where do i fucking start. SMUT. SMUT!!!! GRAPHIC PORN!!!! no plot!!!! degradation!!! dumbification!!!! praise!!!! oral!!! (m recieving) cursing!!!! nicknames!!!! reader is female and has female parts and she/her pronouns!!!!! matt is cocky, mean!dom!matt, the ending is kind of cute, lots of inappropriate use of matts senses, uhhh guys let me know if i missed any because... wow. word count: 4.2k summary: you have a hard time sleeping. the devil has a few games in mind to tire you out. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: enter sandman - metallica "exit light/enter night/take my hand/we're off to never-never land"

You have a horrible habit. Okay, you wouldn’t really consider it to be a habit per say, but you’re not proud of it. You will for it to end.

You can never seem to fall asleep. Staying asleep is easy, but getting there is a problem. Your mind is always racing, which causes you to spiral into a whirlpool of anxieties. You’re too busy thinking about your job, or what you’ll eat tomorrow, or when you’ll be doing your next load of laundry.

But most of all, what keeps you up at night is worrying about the devil. And not in the sense that you’re a holy catholic who wants to repent for her sins, either. Your worry for the devil comes because you’re hopelessly in love with him.

And you worry that one day he will come home damaged beyond repair. Maybe one day he will not come home at all, and you’ll have to hear about it on the news the next morning. It’s a hellish existence, loving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you make do.

Like tonight—You had baked brownies earlier in the night, and then read your book for the better part of the night. You won’t allow yourself to fall asleep because the possibility of seeing him overwhelms you. But as the hours pass, you begin to lose hope.

And just as you you’re beginning to accept that he won’t be coming to see you and you’re really letting yourself drift, you feel a warm hand on your neck. He’s taken his gloves off tonight. You consider yourself blessed.

“Hi,” You mumble softly, your brain going all fuzzy with even just that bit of contact. You’ve missed him. “Was beginning to think you’d never show.”

But your devil is in no mood for simple pleasantries tonight.

“What have I told you about waiting up for me?”

“Not to?”

“I said,” His hand moves from its gentle place against your neck to grip your chin, “As long as you leave the window open I’ll know to just come in and take what I need.”

Your face flushes, and he grins, because he can tell that he’s making you flustered.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart.” He hums.

“You are.” He shrugs gently. He’s wearing his black suit tonight, and it’s making you feel… a lot of things.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Damn him.

“Nothing!”

He leans forward and kisses you softly, and you lean up to try and kiss him further, but he pulls away, his grip returning to your chin, to keep you just centimeters away. The devil is an expert at reading you, despite his lack of sight. He has developed the habit of studying you, and knows that as of late, you’re not allowing yourself the pleasure of sleeping. He knows it’s because you’re so anxious and worried about every little thing, so tonight.. He intends to fix it. Or at least, maybe come up with a temporary solution.

“Liar.” He whispers and moves away further. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”

Your devil is many things, but he does not bluff. He has this will of steel.

“I prefer it when you wear the black suit,” You tell him, “It’s not very protective, I know. But you look good in it.”

He makes a noise of realization, before moving his hand to slip under the hem of your shirt, resting his hand on your stomach. You shiver a bit, his hand warm against your skin. That’s what you get for wearing a tee shirt and shorts to bed every night, he’d tell you.

“That’s my smart girl.” Your heart flutters. “Mm, you really like that huh?”

“You’re awful.” You always pretend to hate how he reads you, but secretly, although you suspect he knows it, you love that someone knows you so well. He grins and his hands move again, this time picking you up into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “Hey! Not cool, we talked about picking up when we have no warning—” You cut yourself off with a grunt when he tosses you onto the bed.

“Shut up.”

He hears no objections.

Just as quickly as you’re thrown on the bed, he is above you, mask still on, kissing your neck.

“Wanna play a game, sweetheart?” He asks, hands on your hips, his fingers creeping up the hem of your shirt. You shiver again, and he just grins “You can answer.”

“Sure. I like games.” Your voice is meek, too busy enjoying all the contact with him. He hums softly.

“I know you do, and you’re just so good at them.” You grin against his skin as he kisses your cheek. “See that? That’s what I want to know.” You’re a bit lost.

“Know what?”

“I want to know what turns you on more— praising you or degrading you.”

What a fun game to play with a human lie detector.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s play.” You confirm. He kisses you quickly.

“Good girl.” You hum softly, but it isn’t quite what he’s looking for. It’s good, don’t get him wrong, but he’s after more. “Tell me about your day, baby.” He continues to plant kisses along your skin. You know this isn’t a request but rather a requirement of the game.

“Well, I had work today, then I had to stop at the grocery store. I made dinner and—” You’re cut off by a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, because you can’t help but let out a gasp of pleasure.

“What? A few kisses and you’re already turning dumb for me?” You shudder softly, your heartbeat steadily increasing. The deep cadence of his voice paired with his words make you want to just melt. “Oh, there she is..”

He lets go of your arms for just a moment to slip your shirt off.  Then, your hands are back above your head, held down by his grip. He moves on from your neck and begins to kiss down.

“I like this game.” You manage out, and he chuckles.

“I know you do. You know how?”

You think about it for a moment before you answer. You want to be right.

“You can hear my heartbeat?”

“And I can smell you. You like this a lot. More than you like me?” He continues to kiss down your torso.

You don’t answer for a second. He bites your skin gently, prompting you to answer.

“No.” You answer, “No, I don’t like anything.. anyone more than you.”

He kisses the spot where he bit softly.

“Even smart girls need to be reminded sometimes.” Is all he says before he continues to kiss you. You try to hide it, try to hide your reaction to the words, but he grins against your skin.

“Matt..” you groan out softly because his kisses have stopped.

“What?”

“Why’d you stop?” You whined.

“You’re my smart girl, why don’t you tell me?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it because you can’t? Do you like being dumb for me, smart girl?” You want to defend yourself, but he bites your skin again.

“Yes!” you respond, and he does the same thing he did before—He kisses where he bit.

“Good girl.” He responds. “I like making you dumb just from a few kisses anyways.” He tells you, finally reaching your stomach with his kisses. “I love my dumb little smart girl.” The cadence he has to his voice makes you whine again. He knows every part of you, even the parts you never wanted to tell him about. He’s just too observant. “I love that despite how well behaved and good you are, you’re dumb enough to be talked down to like this, by some strange man who just crawled through your window.”

You answer before you can think about it. You’re smart enough to know that he’s at least half right.

“You’re not just anyone, you’re my Matt.”

“Your Matt?” He hums. “Your Matt, My ditzy smart girl.” He grins, before placing one last kiss right above the waistline of your shorts.

He moves so he can kiss your lips again, kissing you quick before pulling off his mask so you can see his face. He has a cut on his forehead and a bruise forming on his cheek. It’s clear he had a good night though, or else this wouldn’t be happening.

“Your face..” You frown, concern in your voice.

“Observant and smart?” He teases, kissing your forehead. “What happened to wanting to be dumb for me?”

You’re almost embarrassed of it now.

“You’re being mean.” You say quietly.

“Mean? Me? To my best girl?” He kisses you quickly again. “Never.” He hums. One of his hands goes down to your thigh, his fingertips inching up.

“Never.” You echo.

“What do you say, smart girl?” He asks, “Wanna play a few more games? See just how desperate I can make you?”

You huff at his words, your brain short circuiting to the point where you speak before you can really think.

“I just want you to fuck me!”

He stops just as he’s about to pull off your shorts and slithers back up so the pair of you are face to face.

“First of all,” he places a kiss to your lips gently, “You are not in a position to be making demands, pretty girl. Second,” He kisses you again, “Such a foul mouth for such a dumb baby,” You let off a soft whine, and he has the audacity to mock your whine, “I know, it’s not much of a lecture when you like when I talk to you like this,” He hums. “And third, I know you’re smarter than to be a brat.” He says gently, kissing you again.

“I’m not a brat.” You whine, and again, he mocks you before devolving into a deep chuckle, leaning in to kiss you.

“I love you.” He says, with a grin on his face.

He’s gentle with you for a few moments, softer. You decide that now is your chance, and if you don’t act now, you’ll spend the rest of your night under his thumb. So, you flip over and have him under you, as you sit on his lower stomach. His hands come up to the back of your thighs.

“I’ve got you now, Devil.” You grin, leaning in to kiss him. But before you can, he’s flipping you back over, keeping you pinned by your legs.

“Brat.” he accuses, leaning in to kiss you again. You huff. “Easy, pretty girl, your attitude is getting the best of you.”

You frown and turn your head when he goes to kiss you.

“Tell me I’m not a brat and I’ll kiss you.” You demand, and he grins, but this time it isn’t soft. It’s almost wicked. He grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head towards him, before kissing you roughly.

“What did I tell you?” he asks. “Come on, smart girl, I know you remember.”

“That I was in no position to make demands?”

“That’s right.” He coos, “Now, baby, do you want to hear what I had planned for you tonight?”

You must admit, you’re very curious.

“Sure, Matty.” His grin widens.

“Well, I was planning on playing this little game with you, then eating you out until your thighs are shaking,” You let out a whine, but he just shushes you softly, “Sh, sh, sh… You wanted to hear, so listen.” He hums. “Then, I was going to fuck you until you were full of my cum.” He tells you.

Then, he lets out a disappointed sigh.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That was what I was planning on, but because you decided to be a brat, I have a new plan.”

“I liked that plan so much though..”

“I know, Sweetheart, me too.. But you’re the one who ruined it.” He reminded, leaning in, and biting your jaw between his fingers. His hand positioning is not exactly choking, but the grip is tight enough to leave marks. He feels you grind your hips up a bit, and chuckles again. “Smart girl, already figuring out what’s next.”

You tilt your head in confusion, but before you know it, he’s repositioning you so you’re in his lap at the edge of the bed. He pats your thigh gently.

“Get up for me, Honey. Then you got to take your shorts off for me.” You do as you’re told, no longer interested in fucking up his plans. Then, he pulls you back onto his lap, and he hums gently. You decide to take a risk and bring your hands up to his jaw, and then up towards his mask.

“Please?” You ask gently. “Wanna see you..” He nods softly, letting you pull off his mask, as his head tilts to the side to kiss your palm.

“You remember who’s in charge, right, sweetheart?”

“You, devil.”

“That’s right, angel.” He praises, “And that’s why you’re going to ride my thigh.” You let out a soft whine, and he shakes his head, “No, no whining from you, sweet girl. You wanted to be a brat, so you gotta reap what you sew.”

He holds your hips as you begin to grind against his thigh, and Matt focuses on the way your breathing hitches as you rub against his thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as he begins to kiss your neck again.

Your skin burns with need, and your hips roll faster as your breath speeds up, and slowly, minute by minute, you’re edging closer to your release. But he knows you’re close to coming undone not only because of how your skin is hot, and your breath is airy, but because you’re making such a mess.

You’re definitely staining his pant leg with your wetness, because after his insatiable teasing, you’re just desperate for him, and oh so sensitive. The speed of your grinding increases, and then, because he wants to see you break, he starts to bounce his leg up so that in addition to your grinding, it’s overwhelming you.

“Matt,” you say, breathlessly. “Matt, please..”

“Please what, smart girl? What do you want?” He’s really going to make you ask for it. This is all part of his game.

“Please..” You start, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, can I come?”

“What was that, baby? I didn’t hear you.”

Oh, now he’s being a fucking dick. You know he can hear you, with his damned super senses. Nonetheless, you pick your head up and manage to get it out.

“Please let me come,” You beg, and he laughs.

“You know what’s funny, baby?” You let out a whine. “You’re so smart, always holding the world on your shoulders, and yet.. A little bit of teasing and riding my thigh, and you can barely get a sentence out.. You’re being so good for me, baby. So good at following orders,” He bites your neck. “So, go ahead and come for me, sweet girl.”

As soon as those words leave his lips, you’re letting go, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. You moan into his ear, his hands on your side to keep you stable as you come undone. He keeps bouncing his leg to have you ride out your high as your legs begin to shake. You’re making all of these pretty noises for him, and the smell of your juices are overwhelming for him.

“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, kissing you softly. He’s back to being rather gentle with you. But his cock is incredibly hard against his pants, and he needs to feel you clench around him. “Can my pretty baby ride my cock?” You’re shaking but you nod gently.

He knows you’re verging on the edge of being unable to do much else, but he wants to see how far he can push you. So, he pats your leg again and you stand up. His hands come up to undo your bra and pull off your panties.

He holds them in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply as your scent continues to overwhelm him. He wastes no more time, pulling off his shirt and then starting to unbuckle his black pants. On instinct, you’re on your knees, with this.. primal desire to suck him off.

He takes a deep breath, his hand going to your hair and pushing your hair from your face. You lean into his touch, smiling softly up at him. He knows how much you like just thoughtless sex—You value long, intimate nights too, but after a long week, you need to shut off your brain and he needs to take control.

“Wanna suck my cock first, baby? You’re so good for me..” He says softly, slipping down his boxers.

“Just wanna be good for you,” You hum, eying his glistening hardness. You can’t deny that he looks truly crafted by the hands of God—Most of his body is glistening with sweat, cock glistening with precum. He is heavenly and the only thing you’ll ever want to worship.

“You’re so good for me. My dumb little smart girl.” The name form earlier makes you weak, as you lean in and begin to lick his tip. His hand grips your hair as he inhales sharply. “Careful, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to guide you in sucking him dry.

His hand guides you as your head bobs against his cock, the taste of him turning your brain further into mush. He makes sure to guide you at a steady pace, moaning out praise, and occasionally degradation.

“So fucking good for me,” He gasps out, “My good little girl.. Sucking my cock so good—Ah, fuck..” He gasps as you quicken your pace. “Sucking me like the little slut you are..” You moan against cock at that, and he gasps, before it devolves into a low chuckle. “And you like it, too.. Being called my little slut.. Good little slut, just for me.. Got you trained so well..” He holds on for a few more moments before he comes into your mouth, panting softly.

His cum dribbles down your chin as you swallow most of it, so his hand comes up to your chin to gently wipe the dribble off before he slips his thumb into your mouth.

“Every last drop for me, angel.” He requests. You happily suck on his thumb for a few moments while he recovers. Then, he leans down and picks you up, resting you on the bed again. “Now you’re gonna ride me, right, pretty?”

“Mhm..” You smile, and as soon as he lays back on the bed, you’re on top of him. His cock slides against your folds and you whine a bit, just desperate for the feeling of him filling you up. “You know how badly I want your cock..” He grins at this.

“You have it, angel. Just gotta ride me, okay?” You hum in response. You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, taking a few minutes to adjust to the size of him. But your slow pace is not quick enough for Matt, whose hands find your hips (for the millionth time tonight) and quickly slides his entire length into you.

You moan loudly, a feeling of pain and pleasure blurring together as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.

“Matt, fuck,” You whine, wanting to take a second to catch your breath.

“Color?” It’s a safe word system—He knows he might have taken it a tad too far, pushing into you like that.

“Green,” You promise.

“Okay, good.” He leans up and kisses your forehead gently, a sign of the gentleness that resides in his demeanor despite just how into his dominate behavior you are. He begins to roll his hips, and revels in the sound of the pretty screams coming out of your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “I’ve got you fucked dumb, baby? Can’t even ride my cock properly?” He asks, pulling you in to kiss your skin.

“No,” You protest, “I can do it,” It comes out whinier than you wanted it to—Much whinier, but you can’t deny that he’s wrong about that first part. Your brain is blurry in the best way. He hums in approval before gently pushing you away from his lips.

“Prove it, then.” He demands, and his hips are no longer bucking into you. Instead, you shakily begin to bounce against his cock, using his moans and gasps as guidance. His hands grip your thighs as you ride him. “There you go, angel. It’s not too much for you, right?” He hums.

“No!” You protest again, “No, Sir, I can take it,” He grins at the slip of the title. He swats the side of your thigh, rubbing it softly after you yelp, but it quickens your pace. His brain is beginning to fog too, so he knows he wants to get a few more comments out.

“Fucking liar,” he laughs, “Even when your.. fuck..” He gasps, the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelming him. “When you’re bouncing on my cock and moaning for me, you’re still lying..” His one hand travels to play with your clit, rubbing small circles into it. “So,” He takes a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, before picking his head back up. “I’ll ask you again.. Is it too much for you, my ditzy girl?”

Tears prick your eyes, as you will your brain to come up with a comprehensive answer.

“Yes!” You admit, “it’s too much,” You pant, but because you don’t say ‘red’ he keeps going.

“Aw, I know, honey,” He plants a soft kiss to your lips, the hand that isn’t rubbing circles into your clit coming up to brush sweaty hair from your face. “But you can take it. Come on, sweet thing, I know..” He hums. “Come for me, baby..”

And you do—You come hard, your vision going white for a fraction of a second as you let out these angelic noises. He doesn’t give a damn about noise complaints right now, all he can focus on is the smell of your sweat, your cum, and your pretty little noises.

You continue to rock your hips, wanting to feel his cum fill you up. And after a few more minutes, your wish comes true, as he grips your hip tightly with one hand as he comes deep inside you, as you roll your hips just a few more times, riding the last waves of a euphoric high.

His chest is heaving as you slump down against his chest. The pair of you are sweating, but he still looks so beautiful like this. His cock still fills you, his cum deep within you. His hand gently runs up and down your back,

“How’s my sweet girl doing..?” He’s afraid he went too far with you, hoping his words didn’t push you into a bad headspace. It’s happened before, where you just needed time to come back to reality. But tonight, you’re exhausted in a whole new way. You’re happy that you’ll actually be able to sleep.

“I’m good,” You promise. You’re sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out of your mind.

He takes your jaw in his hand and tilts your head up so you’re looking in his general direction.

“You know I don’t really think you’re dumb, right?” He just needs to make sure.

“I know,” You giggle, “But it’s pretty hot in the moment. Besides, you took care of me.”

He grins and kisses your forehead.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He promises. You know he means it, too. Your Matty, always taking care of you. “You know you don’t need to worry about everything, right? You don’t have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“I know,” You start, “But you’re always so busy with the firm, and being Daredevil, and—” He hushes you softly.

“I am never too busy for you.” He says gently. “I know I can’t do your job for you, but I can be more careful and help with dinner, you know.” He just wants you to be less stressed all the time, the hypocrite.

“Okay.” You say gently. “Thank you, Matt.” He holds you close and places a soft kiss to your head.

“You’re still shaking,” He says gently, “But you need to shower.” He says softly, moving now so that he can carry you to your bathroom. You whine at the feeling of emptiness you’re left with when he slides out of you, and he just laughs. “I know, Baby, I know.”

Matt is just a general fan of taking care of you. Even when you’re fucked out of your mind like you are right now. You love that about him.

You love that the devil is so devoted to you. It stirs something deep inside you that you can’t quite voice. Matt knows it, too.

[thewanderingkaya]

when gentle meets calloused  .

pairing: wriothesley x reader

summary: in which wriothesley wonders what’s so hypnotic about his hands (fluff + teensy bit of angst)

wordcount: 800

a/n: i love wriothesley and i love hands , why not combine the two? but seriously calloused and ruggedised arms and hands have me on the floor, especially if wrio is a boxer and has a backstory. g/n reader , a teeeeeeeny bit of wrio’s backstory , 2nd person (kinda omniscient) , lowercase on purpose , dividers : rookthornsartistry

“did it hurt?” your hands trail over wriothesley's arms, fingers coming to trace the imperfections that littered his forearms. his bandages discarded which allowed you to have a clear view of his arms. strong biceps, he did nothing to stop you, only turning his head sheepishly.

as you lay idly on a small blanket splayed onto the grass, a breeze drifts, tousling yours and wrio’s hair. his eyes met yours as you looked up at him, awaiting his answer.

“well.. of course it did,” his gaze drifted to his hands then back to you, he tagged on, “you get used to it after a while.”

you hummed, your head rested on his shoulder. running you whole palm against his fore arm. you could feel wriothesley heat up, even without looking, you knew he was flushing. dry, his arm felt — not dry like sandpaper, but in a way more.. hardened — a contrast to your soft touch. 

wriothesley shivers as you trace a deep scar that hugged along the underside of his forearm, running down from his wrist all the way to the inside of his elbow. your smooth hands were so different compared to his rough and hardened hold, something that, even to this day, wriothesley always seems to be amazed at. you studied the mark, discovering that inside the scars, there seems to always be even more cuts and scrapes near the main body. who knew, something so brute could be so intricate at the same time.

these moments.. where you could study others, every blemish had a story. and with wriothesley, you knew that each scar would have a story, each scar contributed to the man you have come to love today. you treasured it.. 

 while you cherished his imperfections, wriothesley only saw them as such flaws. though he didn’t care if outsiders saw and judged them, he cared dearly about what you think. he tries to pull away every time they catch your attention, afraid something might spark and your feelings may suddenly change about him, or worse, you’d be afraid of him. wriothesley wasn’t prepared to take that risk.

“it’s not something i’m proud of either..” he breathes, just barely — though you caught his utterance. looking away as his hand relaxes in your touch.

“i think all your scars perfect.”  you sighed, your palm slid into his, “after all~ they are what made the most handsome and strong man i love today” you smiled cheekily up at him.

your comment made wriothesley crack a smile, along with a deep chuckle. you heaved yourself on top of him, his arms coming up to your waist to stabilise you. despite his cryo vision, he always had warmth emulating from him. like your own personal heater. 

“is that so?” he ran his hand through his hair in a mock flourish. “maybe i should show it off in public more often—“

“now hold on, mister,” you pressed a finger to his lips, wriothesley glanced down at you, “i don’t want anyone stealing my husband now.”

“I—“

“but alas—“ you cut him off, straightening your posture but still perched on his stomach. placing a hand on your chest, as if preaching your own monologue in mock rejection “I guess i can’t have everything to myself.. even the duke of meropide himself.” 

you got up to make a dramatic exit, still playfully in character. a hand grabbed yours, yanking you back down before you could get any further. planting a kiss sweet on your lips; your facade dissolving as you melted into his hold. 

there was no doubt you were a fan of wriothesley’s kisses, they were gentle but firm. your hand flew up to his hair, the only thing separating you two was the need for air. leaving you flushed a bright crimson and him a satisfied smirk, you tried to turn away, but being straddled in wriothesley’s lap didn’t really do any good to hide from him.

a warm hand brought you back face to face, he chuckled. “woah now, no need to be so jealous. i’m not going anywhere.”

“what? i not jealous!” you sputtered out — though it came out mixed with a nervous laugh — shrugging your shoulders.

“no, no it’s okay,” wriothesley let out a sigh mixed with a snort, you caught a scent of earl grey tea, bringing you back to that cup you had shared before he suggested you both leave for a short while to enjoy one moment of sunlight. of course it was only meant to be a brief outing to relax, only at a shore just beside the fortress of meropide. 

wriothesley seemed to be in no rush, so were you. even if duty calls — even in that dark and cold fortress with little to no fresh air — you still treasured even the briefest of breaks you had with wrio, and delayed getting back anytime soon. 

a nonchalant voice brought you back from your thoughts. 

“you should know,” he flashed you a corny smirk, rough fingers intertwined with yours, “this duke is all yours.”

[embrosegraves]

𝔸 ℕ𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖

Max Verstappen x Reader  Max just wants to show his love for you 

A pre-graduation gift!

Part 1 of a very fluffy 2 part Fic. I've decided to put all of my Sugar Daddy fics (because there will be more) into their own universe. I dub thee, The Sugar -verse!

Max was a man of his word. This meant that if he said he was going to do something, he would do it. Even if he said he would leave you alone to study. Of course he would pout a bit but he would leave you to do your thing. Most of all it meant that he absolutely would NOT change his mind after he utters the words “I’m going to…” when it came to spoiling you. 

In order to avoid the wrath he was sure to incur from you, he would often say it under his breath or he would think them so as to avoid you hearing them. Because Lord knows what you would make him promise  if you heard the things he was to purchase for you. In his opinion the laptop was nowhere near expensive enough. It made you happy though so he didn’t complain. Too much. 

Now however, Max didn’t see the problem in spending as much as he could on you. You were graduating with your degree after years and years of hard work. You deserved to be given whatever it was you wanted to have. And despite what you said, Max was very aware of his spending habits. Which is why when there was only a month until your graduation, he bought extra cabinets and shoe racks for him to build. 

Closer and closer the date crept up until it was the day before you graduated. Max had made sure that when you came home in the evening, there was a hot bath ready for you to soak in, a glass of your favourite wine and a plate of your favourite dinner meal ready on the bath tray. He was prepared to dote on you for however long you let him. Before you went to bed that night, Max decided that it wouldn’t hurt to give you at least one gift now. 

“Schat, I have something to give you.” 

You turned around in his arms so you could look at him properly. Times like this, when you would just be surrounded by him in comfort, were always your favourite thing. You would probably trade all the money in the world if it meant you could keep Max for yourself. Max wouldn’t make the same trade because that would mean that he couldn’t spend anything on you like he thought you deserved. 

“I’ve already been given so much tonight, My Love.” 

Max frowned a little when you spoke. He hadn’t given you anything yet. What did you mean you had been given so much? Seeing Max’s confusion you elaborated a little. 

“I’ve been given an entire evening to spend around you. I’ve been given all my favourite things and now I get to just lay here with you, which I think is the greatest gift of them all.” 

Max was thankful that most of the lights had been turned off. He could feel his face heating up. He buried his face between your neck and shoulder, giving you a light kiss. 

“I want to give you something you can wear tomorrow.” 

“Max.” Your voice was stern. 

“It’s something small, don’t worry.” 

“Just because it’s small doesn’t mean it wasn’t expensive, Max. What did you buy?” 

“A necklace.” Came Max’s muffled reply. He had been placing soft kisses to your skin the whole time. 

You closed your eyes to enjoy the feeling before you gently grabbed his face and moved it to look at you. Protests of “I wasn’t finished kissing” fell through Max’s mouth as you did. 

“Can you justify it?” You asked. Max looked like a pouting child, but he nodded. 

“I bought it because you’re graduating tomorrow and it’s a simple one so you can wear it every day and not just at fancy places.” It was a simple justification, but dammit he was right. You playfully scoffed but allowed him to get the necklace so he could give it to you. You felt an indescribable amount of love when you saw him get up with a big grin on his face. 

When he gave you the box for it, he sat in front of you like a kid waiting to show their parents a drawing they were proud of. Opening the box, you gasped and covered your mouth. The necklace was beautiful. A dainty gold chain with Max’s initial and your birthstone. 

“Max, this is beautiful.” Your voice was barely a whisper. You could hardly speak. It was simple, like he had said, but it was easily one of the most gorgeous things you had. 

“Will you wear it tomorrow?” Max seemed almost nervous as he asked you to wear his initial around your neck. 

In response you flung your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, tears welling up in your eyes. His arms circled around your waist in reflex to keep you steady. 

“I’m never taking it off.” You breathed near his ear. A few moments later you detached yourself and held the necklace towards him. 

“Put it on for me?”

Neither of your smiles left your faces, even as you eventually succumbed to sleep.

The necklace looks similar to these necklaces I saw on facebook lmao

[seraphicsage]

Destiny

A/N this is the longest fic I have written in a longg time! I really hope you enjoy this! I would love any feedback. If you want any short fics based in this universe I would love to do that!! thank you!!

Summary: Reader and Feyd were friends from a young age until she went away to be trained, now she has been chosen to continue his line

My father was a very powerful man, the head of a very powerful house. He was close friends with the Baron and our houses are firm allies, this meant that from a young age I knew the Baron’s nephews and was forced to spend time with them during meetings and diplomatic events. 

Feyd and I are the same age and we got along quite well, having met when we were merely toddlers. The Baron’s eldest nephew, Rabban, was older and cruel. For as long as I can remember he was nasty, pulling on my hair and pushing me over, laughing at my misery. He would call me names and make attempts to humiliate me, but Feyd always enjoyed playing knights and was determined to defend me to his brother, standing in between us and attempting to push Rabban over in retaliation. 

When we were 7, Feyd told me that his uncle had named him as the na-baron, something he was incredibly proud and excited for. He was determined to be the best Baron there had ever been. When he asked if I was going to be the next leader of my house I knew even then that it would not be possible, I imagined I was to be married off to some lord that I hardly knew. Feyd said he would marry me instead so we could be friends forever, it sounded like a much better idea than my parents. 

Feyd was 9 when he killed his mother. When the Baron forced him to kill his mother, telling him he could never be a good leader if he allowed himself to be weak, telling him it was a test to see if he was worthy of his title. When I heard the news from my mother it shocked me. He loved his mother, and he had always been so kind. It made me wary of him the next time I saw him months later, scared. But when we were finally left alone by my parents and the Baron, I asked him why he did it, prompting him to break down and sob in my small arms about how he missed her and had no choice. How she reassured him it was okay as he did it, that she forgave him. I never saw him cry like that again. 

Every visit after that I could see the changes taking place due to the Baron’s cruelty. I saw him hiding bruises and watched as his soft shell became hard as stone as he started finally being able to take his brother in a fight and even began enjoying the fights in a strange way. 

The last time I saw him I was 11, my birthday just before I left to be trained with the Bene Gesserit, as the reverend mother had decided for my parents. I hadn’t been allowed to tell him that I was leaving, especially not why I was leaving, but I had known and had almost wept when he left in the evening. Despite his almost psychotic behaviour, we were still friends and he still defended me from the cruelties surrounding me when he could, including ones he was not aware of at the time.

Now I’m watching him walk into the arena at his coming of age event. I have not spoken to him since I left my home, but my dedication to my training has allowed me to keep updated on his house as I have had to remain informed on current politics and states of affairs. The reverend mother informed me early in my training that I showed a lot of potential in my role in the Bene Gesserit, telling me that if I continued to stay ahead of my studies then I could be chosen for a more important destiny than merely continuing a ‘pointless lord’s line’. That was motivation enough for me to fully invest in learning the Bene Gesserit ways and excelling in my training. I hadn’t expected this to be the destiny she chose, but truthfully I couldn’t help but feel honoured to be chosen for this. 

Despite Jessica’s attempts to ruin the plans of the Bene Gesserit, the reverend mother insisted that Paul Atreides would be taken care of, that my child would be the Kwisatz Haderach. The reverend mother knew of my old friendship with Feyd but she reassured me that she knew I would not let something like that distract from my true mission. 

Seeing Feyd having such an influence on the crowd and begin fighting the prisoners is a thrill in a sick way. He had changed. I knew that would be the case, the rumours surrounding how he had become a brutal and merciless fighter over the years, hearing how his behaviour had become ever more psychotic had made me feel sorry for him at first. The looks that I got from my fellow sisters when the news spread that I would be the one to test him and secure the bloodline, they felt sorry for me. Truthfully, it gave me a power rush. Knowing I was trusted with such an important task, knowing it would be my child with such a strong destiny. 

His performance in the arena is impressive. A small part of me worries when one of the prisoners is clearly not drugged, glancing over at the Baron to see his sinister smile, I couldn’t help but be angry as I knew this must be another sick ‘test’ of his. Instead, I am proud when he wins the battle, an honourable fight where I could easily see the skills he has learnt during my absence. 

It was not hard to find him after the events, I had heard him fighting with his uncle, and heard his uncle’s promise to give him the empire. I stayed out of sight until he had wandered much further away from his uncle’s chambers before allowing myself to be heard by him. It doesn’t take long before he stops walking and I slow my movements down. “Are you lost, witch?” He practically snarls without turning around. 

I can’t help but chuckle, “I was expecting a warmer welcome from you, Feyd.” I stop walking a couple steps away from him and watch him spin around to face me. His eyes wide for a short moment before his face went hard, hiding any emotions. He takes 2 strides towards me and brings a knife up to my throat, I feel his breath warm against my face. I don’t hesitate to meet his eyes, having expected this reaction. “Is this any way to greet an old friend?” 

“We are not children any more. Things have changed since we last saw each other. Clearly that is not exclusive to me.” His eyes trail over my outfit, a clear sign of my involvement in the Bene Gesserit. He seems incredibly unhappy. “Why are you here?” The press of his blade against my neck loosens slightly. 

I hum slightly before pulling away from his grasp and walking away from him, towards the guest room I am staying in. “Now where are you going?” He sounds as exasperated as he used to when we were children and I’d drag him around my home. 

“To my guest rooms.” I keep walking and feel him follow me as I sit on a hard surface and he approaches me. “Kneel.” I use the voice on him and he slowly lowers himself down in front of me. I bring the box level with his hands, and bring the Gom Jabbar to his neck. He meets my eyes as he places his hand inside the box. 

I’m impressed by his lack of reaction, he doesn’t break eye contact with me for a moment. When the test is over I remove Gom Jabbar from threatening him and pull the box away from his hand. “You’ve passed the test.” I keep my voice steady and let my eyes trail down his body. I am surprised as I see an unmistakable bulge in his trousers. I bring my eyes up to meet his eyes again, seeing how heavy they seem to be now. 

I lean down slightly and lift his chin with my hands. I had been prepared to need to convince him to bed me, apparently the pain did that for me. He watches me as I bring my lips close to his, not quite meeting them yet. His breathing stops for a moment, and I take that moment to press my lips firmly against his. He kisses me back, turning it heavy and groaning into my mouth. The kiss turns deeper and presses himself into me. I feel his hands trail up my legs and he grips onto my thighs. He drags my body into him and wraps my legs around his waist, before standing up and bringing me with him with practised ease.

His mouth trails away from mine, kissing along my jaw and down my neck as he moves to the bed, lying me down beneath him. He pulls back for a short moment, holding one of my legs to ensure they stay wrapped around him, and he removes his shirt before swiftly returning to kiss me. 

I bring my hands to gently trail along his back, feeling every movement as he starts to undress me. His lips trail lower as he reveals more skin. His kisses become rougher and he starts sucking on my skin, making my back arch into him and I dig my nails into his back. He groans in response, licking on the spot before moving to form marks all along my collarbones. “Again,” he mutters out as he moves to a new spot. I take a moment to register what he’s said, and another moment to realise what he means. I drag my nails up his back again, gentler than before. I hear him breathe out a deep sigh as he stops his attack on me, resting his forehead against me. “Harder,” he says, then in a quieter voice, “please.” 

I feel an excited pit in my stomach form as he says it, and I let my nails dig further into his skin, dragging it up his back. He lets out another groan and I bring one of my hands close to my face and see the small flecks of blood on the tips of my nails. I can feel that Feyd has become more desperate as he practically tears the clothes off of me, continuing marking down my body as I slowly continue to scratch his back. I enjoy seeing the marks I left as he trails further down between my legs, perhaps too much. 

The whole thing is a blur in my head as we lie in the bed, panting and staring at the ceiling. Honestly, I had not expected to enjoy the act itself, my sisters had warned me that it was usually not enjoyable for them, but Feyd had been very good at bringing me pleasure as well as himself. My body is pressed close to him and his arm is stretched out underneath my shoulders. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he says into the silence after a while. 

I turn slightly to look at him properly, he doesn’t meet my eyes but I can see a hint of the vulnerability he used to show me when we were young children. “I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. The reverend mother told my parents her decision after she had met me, and honestly, it was better than my other option so I couldn’t bring myself to fight it.”

“What was your other option?” He looks at me now, confusion etched onto his face. I smile slightly at his ignorance of the fate of someone like me, I bring my hand up to his cheek, smiling softly at him. 

“My father was not far from arranging a betrothal. I had heard him speaking to my mother about it many times. The lords he was considering,” I cannot meet his eyes for a moment, “it disgusted me even then. Men far older than me, adult men.” I shake myself out of my thoughts, bringing my eyes up to his again. “The reverend mother promised me early in my training that if I continued to exceed expectations then I would not be destined to sire a random heir for a pointless house. I would have done anything to stop myself being married off and turned into some submissive wife. Or worse, a concubine.” 

“Your father was a disgusting man.” His hands brush lightly against my legs, in a comforting touch. “I would have stuck to my word. I could have convinced the Baron to speak to your father about allowing us to marry, they would have both liked the idea of our houses joining.” His softness surprises me. Apparently underneath everything, he has not changed since we were children, at least not towards me. I can’t help my widening smile towards him. 

“Not much has truly changed since we were children has it? You’re still trying to protect me from things you have no power over. I’m safe now.” I look towards my stomach and place a hand over it, I can feel that we’ve been successful in securing the line. This means that as long as the pregnancy is successful, I will be able to dedicate my life to raising him. 

I see his eyes trail from my eyes to where my hand is resting. I see understanding pass over his eyes. “Does that mean you’re leaving again?” He sounds guarded again, like he did when he first saw me again. I let out a sigh as I consider my words. 

“The reverend mother wants him raised in the Bene Gesserit way. He is destined to be the Kwisatz Haderach, and he needs to be trained for it from a young age.” I feel emphatic as his eyes grow sad, I wonder how he can still feel all these things after the cruelty I know his uncle will have inflicted on him over the years. 

He pulls me in close to him, resting his head on my shoulder and I feel his hand ghost my stomach. “I’m not letting them take you again, either of you. Don’t worry, I can protect you this time.” I let him hold me, allowing myself to realise how his uncle has truly affected him over the years. He said it so softly, with so much care, but with his extreme behaviours over the years, it is clear that he truly means it. Even if I did not want to stay with him, it’s clear I don’t have that choice.

tags: @thenatallie

[alottiegoingon]

art fair

jackie taylor x fem!reader

summary: jackie taylor is the elementary school's art teacher.

warnings: too much fluff, jackie and reader being adorable, not proofread

you weren't expecting to stay for any longer than five days this time. that was the initial plan and the words you had said to your parents on the phone before you arrived to wiskayok, new jersey.

the second high school was over, you took the first bus to new york and never looked back. okay, never was a strong word. despite the strong feeling you had to free yourself from the place where you had an awful time in high school, sometimes you would come back to visit your family and your sister, in special.

not wanting to miss her growing up, you had to work extra shifts on the bookstore to pay for a decent looking car, capable of going back and forth from new jersey to new york twice in a month.

now, it was an special occasion. for her 8th birthday, you promised her that you would spend the week in your family home and spend time doing fun things. and by fun things, she meant fun things for her.

the first thing you were asked as soon as you put your feet inside was "what did you get me?"

after wishing your sister a happy birthday and watching her open her present, you sink into the couch with drowsy eyes after some good two hours driving, feeling exhausted. you were so tired that you weren't even paying attention to what the small human full of energy was chattering around you.

"what do you think we should do first? we can go roller skating!"

"bug, i hate roller skating. you know that." god, you remember the last time you fell on your face. you wore a purple eyes for weeks.

"...or we could go get me new books! mom promised me you would go out with me." she keeps talking, not paying attention to you. that was going to be a very long week.

the very next day, you could barely open your eyes when your sister forced you to wake up early and drive her to school, affirming that it was part of the birthday package you promised her even though you didn't actually recall that

[🎨]

you had the brilliant idea to go straight home after dropping the kid at school and sleep for the rest of the day. or until she got home with quick loud steps and a vibrant high-pitched voice.

your great idea fell apart when you were effectively blackmailed by a tiny human dragging you to her classroom, excited to show you everything. you weren’t even sure if you were allowed in there but you followed her anyway.

"that's cool, bug! you did that?" you encouraged her regardless of the many screams of the other kids hurting your ears, right after seeing the paint strokes in a small canvas forming the figure of a person. for a eight year old, the kid had some actual talent. it was better than what you could do.

she nods, extremely proud of herself. "ms. taylor is teaching us how to paint for next week's art fair. you’re coming, right?"

five days. five days was all you could do. it was a pain in the ass to convince your boss to let you skip work for a week and you only managed to do it cause she was a friend of the family. more than that and you would turn into a jobless woman.

“i’ll see what i can do, alright?” you get on your knees to match her height. “now i’m gonna go home and later we can watch…” your voice trails off when your attention is stolen by a woman entering the classroom.

wearing baggy and colorful clothes with glasses that made her look even more attractive, she had a few books threatening to fall from her hands and loose paper sheets. nothing like the old women you used to have for a teacher when you were young.

“good morning, party people! sorry i’m late today.” she doesn’t seem to notice you, too busy and overwhelmed while organizing her desk. she was probably used to be surrounded by loud gremlins all the time, you thought.

she was about to say something but her lips closed after not even a second, knitted brows and an uncertain but polite grin painted on her face. “oh, and i think we have a visitor today.”

and your world fully stops when she looks at you. flushed cheeks as you were practically drooling.

“that’s my sister, she's visiting for my birthday!” the little one fills the awkward silence, not looking like she cares about your unexpected loss of words.

“aw, this is so sweet.” she frowns for a second and all of sudden, her eyes are on you “and are you having a good time down there?” she chuckles, causing your heart to skip a beat, and only then you notice your knees hurting. you were still on the floor, looking like a full time idiot. you hear the other kids the room laughing as well.

“yeah, i was just… tying her shoes.” you stand on your feet as quickly as possible, nearly losing balance.

“no, you weren’t. my shoes don’t have-.” your hand flies over your sister direction to cover her mouth.

your legs were feeling like thin sticks as you walked towards the light haired woman, extending your hand to her. “hi, sorry.” you said falteringly.

“it’s all good. i like to stay on the floor sometimes too.” she offers you an empathetic smile. “i’m jackie.” she finally shakes your hand.

“jackie.” you echo her, subtly shaking your head. it felt like you were absorbing her name into your soul. even her name sounded like something that could be in a movie. “hi. i’m-“

“i know. your sister talks a lot about you. but i guess i wasn’t expecting you to be like this.” you freeze again.

“like what?" your voice trembles as you ask.

she didn’t say anything but you feel her eyes wandering around you while she smiles.

jackie gave you an excuse, apologizing for interrupting the conversation but emphasizing how she desperately needed to start the class. she was already late and you felt bad for taking so much of her time.

“it was nice to finally meet you.” is all she says and you made sure to say it back. before walking through the door, you quickly wave at your sister, not wanting to disrupt them anymore.

you immediately gave up on the idea of sleeping for the entire day. how could you when you had just met jackie taylor?

overthinking everything was like a piece of cake for you, as easy as blinking. but it wasn't hard to overthink things when jackie's first impression of you was probably a terrible one, knees on the floor and making a fool of yourself.

you were happy to welcome your sister back home from school, disregarding the fact that she told your parents that you were drooling over her art teacher on your damn knees. how can kids remember so much?

wanting to know more about her very interesting teacher, with ice cream for dinner, you succeeded in finding out that jackie taylor wasn't a married woman.

"why do you wanna know that?" you struggle to understand the few mumbles thanks to her stuffing her mouth with ice cream.

"okay, i think you had enough." you whisper, slowly moving the bowl away and ignoring her question.

[🎨]

for the next two days, between a bookstore visit or going out for ice cream, you would give jackie taylor a thought. not because you cared or was interested, of course, you were just curious. and you wanted to fix the impression you made on her.

"are you driving me today?" was the question you were asked every morning.

too tired, too sleepy, too early, bad headache, terrible cramps. were all the excuses you gave her so you could have a few more hours of sleep. until the third day.

"school is starting soon!"

"hmm, i don't know if i'm taking you... i'm feeling so-"

"ms. taylor's class is the first one today." you notice her playful tone. she knew you too well.

"good. i'm actually feeling so good today." fast as the wind, you shoot out of the bed.

"you don't have to walk me there anymore. i'm not a baby." the eight year old complains as she notices you following her inside.

"sure, i know. i just wanna make sure you're safe." that wasn't a full lie. yes, you were looking forward to talk to jackie again, but you still cared about your sister.

[🎨]

you were fifteen minutes earlier that the actual class time and by the time you walk into the room, jackie was already there. with your sister going straight to talk to her friends, that was your chance.

"good morning." you timidly knock on the halfway open door, not wanting to scare her.

"hello there!" jackie closes the book that was laying on her big desk in front of her, fixing her gaze on you. lips curving upward. "not tying any shoes this morning?" standing up, she adjusts her slightly crooked glasses as she watches you get closer.

"not today, no. too hard to find any customers." you join her tease, feeling like you have been blessed as she laughs.

"you should try the art exhibition next week. lots of shoes to tie in there." you caught yourself thinking that she may be flirting with you but maybe you were just going crazy for drinking so much coffee lately.

"i would love to tie some stranger's shoes on a school event." playing along, all you could think was that you urgently had to stay for more than just five days. time to beg your boss twice.

"nice! i'll see you there, then." about to end the conversation, jackie's smile widens and the simple act almost makes you fall on your knees again.

"actually..." you fight to not stumble over your words as you create the fastest excuse ever to see her again. "my sister and i are going out for roller skating tomorrow. you should join us."

jackie's gaze lifts back at you, eyebrows raising in curiosity.

"why should i?" she had the casual smirk adorning her face, probably enjoying this entire situation much more than you.

"because... we're going to a park nearby and there's a few tables in there. what's greater to an art teacher than a pretty view to paint?" you were quite proud of how quick your mind worked.

jackie seems to take a brief moment to think about your words, even though she had already made her mind minutes ago.

"it's a deal."

"what? you hate skating. remember when you had a purple eye? that was funny." you turn around to find your sister standing by the door, giggling at the memory of your swollen face. jesus, for how long she was in there?

[🎨]

you met jackie at the park after spending the entire day double-checking your helmet and all of your safety equipment. you couldn't afford to fall again. not this time.

with a huge bag and many art supplies, jackie carefully placed everything on the picnic table while being squeezed in a hug by your sister. the first thing you noticed was how jackie dressed the exact same way out of school. free of any boring clothes and with no glasses this once.

"you actually came." you shyly mirror her grin.

"of course i did. i need to paint something for the fair and i thought that the good old blue sky and pretty trees would do the job."

"so an empty canvas is what made you come?" nervously, your eyes dart back and forth at the brushes on the pine table and her eyes.

"not just that. i think the companny is pretty rad too."

after feeding the ducks with your sibling, you joined jackie by sitting in front of her. she appeared to be so relaxed even when being so gentle and cautious with the paint. you couldn't help but feeling at ease as well.

"found something worthy of being painted by you?"

jackie looks at you over the canvas with rosy cheeks and a contented smirk, affirming with her head. "i think i did."

"it's nice of you to stay longer." her narrowed focused eyes are back on her work, sometimes meeting yours.

you didn't remember telling jackie that it wasn't on your initial plan to stay that long and as if she was capable of reading minds, she snorts before explaining herself.

"she told me you wouldn't be here for the art exhibition." her head points at your sister, skating around the small lake.

"she really does talk a lot about me." you joke, referring to what jackie said when you first met her.

"why did you?" eyes locked on the piece of work, jackie tries to sound unbothered.

"stay longer?" she agrees silently.

"i figured that i really like art. and i couldn't miss such an important event for her."

"so your love for art was what made you stay?" jackie questioned and, once or twice, you would catch her more concerned glance at you.

"not just that. i think the art teacher is pretty rad too."

in the middle of longing stares and jackie blushing for the first time, you hear a childish voice calling you.

"aren't you coming? you're so boring!"

snapping out of the jackie taylor effect, you realized that you still haven't fulfilled your promise to skating with your sister.

jackie, not worried about the painting anymore, quickly put on her rollers with a huge beaming expression. without a single effort to stay still on those things, you became aware of how experienced she was.

"come on, i'll help you out." standing in front of you, she offers you a hand and you don't wait much to accept it.

[🎨]

you were a nervous wreck when the big day came and it wasn't even your works that were going to be exposed to people. in honor of jackie, you tried to wear something formal like a nice looking suit and elegant shoes. a bit too much for a simple school event but it was much more than that to you.

at school, you were surrounded by an impressive quantity of paintings already framed on walls. some of them were adorable, made by younger students.

being pulled by your sleeves, you spend a few minutes in the area where your sibling's works were hanging in and seeing her so happy made you pleased to your decision to stay.

with a single poppy in hands, you find jackie talking to someone, probably a parent. at the exact moment your eyes met, she quickly excuse herself from the conversation to walk towards you with energetic steps.

"all of this looks amazing. you look amazing." is all you can say, not caring about the ear to ear grin on your lips.

"hi! you look great too. i like the suit. so fancy." her hand tenderly brushes over your shoulder, feeling the soft fabric of your clothes.

"it's a special occasion, right? and, here, i got you something."

jackie's face radiates happiness at the second she sees her favorite flower being handled to her, eyes sparkling at you.

"thank you! how did you know i like them?" she tucks the flower into her hair, prettier than ever.

"you know, she talks a lot." you two share a laugh. "aren't you gonna show me your work?"

as her silky hands covered your eyes from behind you, she guides you to the wall with all of her artworks.

"you ready?" your nod in response and she let go of your eyes.

as soon as you open them, one specific framed canvas catches your attention. it was jackie's first view from when she was sitting at the picnic table the other day. you and your sister feeding the ducks on the lake, with the exact same clothes you were wearing. there was no doubt.

"jackie..." you gasp, stunned, jaw almost hitting the floor.

"you like it? i thought it would be something worthy to paint." she's nervous. you can hear her shaky voice as she speaks.

instead of saying something, you spin around to face jackie behind you. with trembling hands, you trace her jawline before pulling her in for a kiss.

you were a big fan of art now.

[barblaz-arts]

I haven’t sent any of the other messages, and this is the first time I’m even seeing your opinions on this matter as I’ve followed you for your Wenclair art.

I’m an Israeli citizen. On October 7th thousands of Hamas terrorists went into Israeli villages (on Israel’s territory) and raped, shot, beheaded, burned alive and murdered 1400 CIVILIANS. They kidnapped 230 more citizens into the Gaza Strip, including babies and the elderly (no idea if they are alive, as Hamas didn’t let the Red Cross or anyone else see them and REFUSED any deal to release them, despite all the lies they are spreading). Hamas uploaded videos of them doing these deeds, they were proud of them. We are still not done counting our dead, 3 weeks later, because of the state they were left in. We identify people by DNA pulled from pieces of skull tissue, by CT scans of burned masses of flesh showing parents hugging their children as they were burned alive.

A little bit of history. In 2005 Israel completely pulled out of Gaza, and handed it over to the Palestinians. In 2007 Hamas was elected to lead the Gaza Strip. This is an organization that in its charter says loud and clear they want to murder Jews. It’s not hidden, there is no question about it. They are proud of it. And since 2007 they have not allowed for an election in Gaza, they have stolen international aid money to build terror infrastructure and embedded themselves deep within their civilian population (just a few days ago evidence was provided that Hamas built their HQ under a hospital, specifically because they knew Israel wouldn’t bomb it).

The truth is, the pictures from Gaza are heartbreaking. The civilians are suffering and it’s making me sick. But how is Israel supposed to respond to the massacre of October 7th? Just pretend it didn’t happen? No country would. Israel isn’t targeting the civilian population though, unlike Hamas. I’m not saying innocent civilians aren’t killed, they very sadly are because war is horrible. But it’s always an accident, they are never the targets. Hamas is the target.

Israel has its part in creating Hamas just like the USA had its part in creating ISIS and Taliban. Still doesn’t excuse terrorism. Israel didn’t deserve the October 7th massacre anymore than the USA deserved 9/11. I hope that you can appreciate that.

The truth is, there are innocent civilians on both sides here that are suffering. Things aren’t black and white, and they never were with this conflict. And if you want to have a discussion I’ll happily talk to you privately, answer questions as best as I can. But only if we come from a place of mutual respect. If you want to block me, that’s fine too.

I do want to let you know while I can that your art is beautiful and made me smile on multiple occasions. I hope you continue it. And I wish you luck with everything and hope that we all have peaceful days in the future.

First of all. Gaza was not given to Palestine. Israel put them there and had Gaza serve as an open air prison.

You can't go around saying "Israel has its part in creating Hamas but it still doesn't excuse terrorism" then go around saying that this genocide is justified because "What else are we supposed to do after what happened in Oct 7?" What a double standard. You do not get to say that what happened to them makes you feel bad but say that you were left with no other choice. You dont get to say that Hamas being born from 70+ of brutality is still not an excuse to kill but also say Israel doing the same thing is justified.

Now, of course this does not mean that I side with Hamas. Never have, never will. I side with Palestinians, something so many Zionists cannot seem to comprehend, because they see killing them as one and the same.

Listing off those atrocities, though heartbreaking, as I will always mourn the innocent, still does not change my stance or how I feel. I feel like a broken recorder, constantly having to repeat that the civilians in Gaza did not do those and in turn did not deserve any of this. The hostages don't either of course, and the families of the ones still held captive are furious with their government for choosing to bomb them along with Hamas like some sort of sacrifice, like what you are implying the civilian deaths to be. Just unfortunate casualties for the greater good.

You can go ahead and say that only Hamas were meant to be targeted all you want, but they did not need to cut off their water so they're not even able to clean and defecate. They did not need to cut off power and render hospitals useless. And NO they did not need to bomb those same hospitals, even IF it were true that it was a Hamas base. And they did not need to use phosphorus bombs to do it. This has, and always will be about Israel's hatred of arabs and Muslims, as it was 70 years ago before Hamas even existed, as it still is now.

Tell me, if the past two or so weeks was really about Hamas, then why are these people mocking the civilians that are mourning their families' death as they starve?

None of this should have happened. Hell, you shouldn't even be living where you are in the first place. No one has any right to colonize. Whatever white supremacists or religious reason anyone says.

Of course this does not mean that I believe all jews or Israeli are as evil as the pieces of shit in that tiktok compilation or the powerful pile of dung that rule your country. There are Isreali and Jews protesting for Palestine as well, and I deeply admire them for their bravery and to feel compassion for the other side and act on it.

It's baffling how you're aware that Israel is responsible for Hamas creation but still, maybe not want it, but think all you can do is reluctantly accept the unavoidable. Because this was definitely avoidable. But your government actively wants this, and frankly I dont think it cares about you. It does not care about the soldiers they send out and the people that died and the hostages that were taken. They are using you as an excuse for more death and money.

"Those thinking of revenge should be ashamed," said by one of the survivors of Oct 7. And she is right. You are demanding the wrong things of your government.

And no, I will not be talking to anyone about this in my direct messages. Talking about it privately makes it feel like some debate to be won, when this shouldn't be a debate at all. The reason why I answer these kinds of asks is to make people aware of what is happening. I'm just some girl, I cannot fight for Palestine in any way that can directly save a life and I dont have the financial capability to donate, but I can do this. We can make those sick excuses of humans on top know that we know of their stink and we will not give it any excuse.

[da-rulah]

Heads Will Roll - A RHRN Inspired Short

*MAJOR RITE HERE RITE NOW SPOILERS AHEAD*

Do not read on if you don’t want to be spoiled. It’s literally the biggest spoiler in the movie, and I am giving you plenty of warning. Seriously. If you read on and get spoiled, don’t come crying to me in my ask box. I am warning you.  

A/N: This is my own continuation of the ending of the movie. An alternate ending, if you will... It includes spoilers from the final scene, arguably one of the biggest spoilers, and continues from there. Yell at me in my ask box if you want, but this was fun to write...

Rating: Mature Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, panic attacks

S P O I L E R S A H E A D 

The empire is now built.  

And he’s so proud of himself. It’s been a long road, he’s worked hard; even cut down people who got in his way... But he’s here now, and despite the sudden passing of his mother, he can’t help the rising feeling of accomplishment – nay, smugness that sits in his chest.  

Of course, his mother stands beside him now as a spectre, joining his father on the spiritual plane that seemingly only he can see into. He wonders why that is sometimes, but it’s a minor detail and one he’s grateful for. At least this way, his mother hasn’t truly left his side. But he does wish his damned father would.  

“We seem to have remodelled here,” Copia remarks as they stand in the hallway of the Ministry; all those months of touring, he wasn’t aware of the changes. He likes them, more to his taste. It’s as if they were made with his ascension in the ranks in mind. He must thank Saltarian for that later. “Good, good...” 

“Well, I’m not in charge anymore,” Sister Imperator sighs dramatically, a little bitter than she can’t continue her role from beyond the grave. But it is what it is, and she’s sure her son is going to do a good job in her place. 

“No, you are not,” Copia gleefully quips, clicking his shiny new shoes together to assert his power.  

“I hope that this new guy doesn’t disappoint like you did,” his father, Papa Nihil grumbles beside him. Copia’s shoulders sag in annoyance, his eyes rolling as he turns to Nihil. 

“Really?” As if he hasn’t been the most successful Papa to date, selling more records, larger tours and spreading the unholy word further than his predecessors – but most importantly, escaping with his life... “Go necro-charge yourself,” he jabs, his polite way of telling his father to piss off and reminding him that he is in fact dead, and has no authority anymore. 

“Oh shut up!” 

“You shut up,” Copia retorts somewhat childishly, a petty little argument starting.  

“The two of you, just stop it. This is done! Just stop it...” Copia raised his hands in surrender, turning back to the doors in front of them.  

“Old habits; they die hard,” Nihil grumbles.  

“Old guys in habits die harder...” Sister comments, pressing her lips together in a tight line as her brow furrows. Copia looks back to his father guiltily, his gaze turning to the tiled floor in front of him. Yeah, didn’t he know it...  

But he couldn’t allow himself to think about that just now. If there was anything he had learned in recent months, it was to not dwell on the past. No matter how dark, no matter what he had done... And he had done some bad things.  

Images of blood-stained hands flashed through his mind, the noises of anguished screams, the silence that had followed... He couldn’t let that haunt him anymore.  

He shook his head of the thoughts, straightening his new expensive suit jacket. The jewels that hung from it rattled against his chest, and he straightened his back to give an air of importance and authority, ready for what was to come.  

“Oh look, here he comes...” Sister Imperator clasps her hands together, wringing them nervously as she hears the footsteps approaching on the other side of the door. Copia lifts his chin, waiting, trying not to show his own nervousness to see the figure approaching, a shadow on the other side of the stained glass doors. The light filters through, turning the end of the hall red which does nothing to quell the anxiety.  

As the new head of the Clergy, he would have thought somebody would have told him who was to be Papa. Frankly, he thought it would be his decision. But the choice had been made long before Sister’s death, and without her knowledge also. It had Saltarian written all over it. He liked to... mess with people.  

The hall fell silent as the shadow figure stood proudly behind the glass. A mitre already sat atop his head, which now he thought about it, was unusual. There had been no ceremony, nor reveal yet. This guy must have some balls to don the Papal robes so soon.  

The shadow reached for the door handles on their side, the knobs squeaking as they turned agonisingly slowly. Copia had to swallow the lump in his throat, reminding himself to stand tall and proud. He was Frater Imperator now. He was in charge.  

The doors swung open, and there he stood, a sickly smirk on his face.

Copia audibly whimpered, losing his balance and stumbling backwards. The panic set in quickly, his chest heaving with heavy breaths that couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs no matter how quickly they tried. He managed to regain his footing quickly at least, eyes wide and jaw dragging along the floor while his head swam.  

Beside him, his mother’s hand slapped to her mouth, somehow making a noise despite her no longer being a physical being. Even Nihil was stunned into silence, his brow furrowed with deep lines of confusion.  

Copia had never been so terrified in all his life. Somehow, he thought his demise would have been a kinder end to his own reign than this.  

The new Papa looked nowhere else but at Copia, his eyes glaring at him as if lasers would shoot from his pupils. That smirk still sat on his face; a face that was painted with crisp black and white.  

As he stepped forward, Copia resisted the urge to run. It was all he wanted to do but when it came down to it, his fight or flight response had withered into the third hidden option; freeze.  

Papa walked slowly, deliberately, his gaze never wavering. Copia couldn’t help but stare straight back but he couldn’t meet his eyes... Not after what he’d done. Even when Papa came to a halt a few feet from him. 

“Buonasera, fratello gemello...(Good evening, twin brother...)” The smugness in his voice reflected how Copia had felt moments before. But now? That had dissipated. Nothing but terror remained. “I look forward to working with you, eh?” 

Copia couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even look in his eyes...  

Instead, his stare was focussed on the garish, ugly, deep red scar that ran in a clean line around his neck...  

How could he not have seen this? So many signs he had ignored... Wilfully ignorant to all of this. Perhaps he had been living in denial, brushing any and every small clue aside so his own guilt would not get the better of him, and he could forget what he'd done.  

The scratch marks on the inside of his final resting place, the mortician who swore his foot had twitched in the morgue... It was Saltarian who insisted the movie be called ‘Rite Here, Rite Now’; his song. Even the music video served as foreshadowing, literally enacting his spirit rising from the dead...  

Copia felt like a fool. Had he not been so wilfully blind, maybe he would have seen it. Maybe he could have stopped it.  

But no, now he was staring directly at the result of the most evil deed he had ever committed; murdering his own twin brother. He could only hope he didn’t remember...  

“Terzo, what a... surprise...” Imperator stuttered beside Copia. Clearly, she had also been kept in the dark on this one...  

Terzo finally tore his gaze from Copia, instead smirking down at his mother who had too been instrumental in his untimely end.  

“Buona sera mamma, (Good evening mother,)” he greeted, sickly sweet and filled with patronisation. “You look well,” he joked. You know, because she was dead...

“S-so do you,” she smiled, her lip twitching. Terzo opened his arms to hug her, and with hesitation, she followed suit. 

“Oh, wait...I forgot,” he stopped, lowering his arms and leaning towards her with a shit eating grin on his face, “sei morto ora (you are dead now).” 

He took a step back, clearing his throat and turning back to Copia. “So, here we go again, eh?” 

“I-I suppose...” Copia choked out, still in shock.  

Copia and Terzo had always had a difficult relationship... Terzo was older by mere minutes, and when they had been born, Nihil had given his son the next title in line, only to give the second, smaller, weaker twin a name to match; Copy. Copia had always been treated as the weaker, the lesser of the two by their father. Their mother, however, had pitied Copia from the start and sided with him wherever she could. It had fuelled so much competition, so much resentment that it led to Terzo’s own end...  

To say their relationship was fraught was a severe understatement.  

“You boys... will have to learn to work together,” Sister Imperator warned, watching warily as the tension between the brothers built.  

“Oh, sí, we can work together, can’t we fratellino?” Terzo slapped his brother’s arm in fake encouragement.  

“S-sí, of course...” 

“Molto bene! (Very good!) I promise, best behaviour. Even little Cardi here will learn to work alongside me,” Terzo leaned forward, staring menacingly into Copia’s eyes with the smug smirk from before and getting into his personal space in a display of defiance. 

“Or heads will roll...” 

[ticklishfiend]

The Gaang Gets Zuko (ATLA)

lee!zuko , ler!gaang :P

A/N : im having sooo much fun with this show rn, esp having fun attacking zuko as much as possible LOL im going bonkers. there’s no clear story or plot in this one, just the gaang being silly and zuko getting to be silly with them :P

Summary : separate short stories of each member of the gaang tickling zuko (and one where Zuko actually gets one back, read to find out who hehe)

Word Count : 5139

hope u enjoy!! <3

-

It was strange how relaxed Zuko was starting to feel. The air seemed easier to breathe these days, despite everything he knew they were all about to go through. But that’s just it. Zuko knows he’s not alone. He has people, good people, behind him. Though he misses his Uncle greatly, it keeps Zuko motivated to know Iroh would be proud to see how far he’s come since they’d been separated.

Things are looking up, despite it all, and Zuko’s especially happy he gets to feel that in good company.

“So, like this, right?” Aang asked, getting into position for the new firebending move Zuko’s trying to teach him. 

“Um…not quite,” Zuko walked behind him, grabbing his shoulders to gently adjust his stance. “You want your shoulders back a little more, it’ll help your balance. And you should have your waist turned a bit to the side, like this…” Zuko gently gripped onto Aang’s sides, but was startled at how quickly Aang jumped away with a surprised laugh.

“Aaah–tickles, tickles!” Aang giggled, rubbing the sensation away with his arms.

Zuko frowned with his hands on his hips, “Seriously? I barely touched you.”

Katara snickered as she watched them train, bending water in the air lazily like a fidget. “Aang’s more sensitive than most. Remember that wound your sister gave him on his foot? Yeah, that took way, way longer than it should have. He wouldn’t stop squirming.”

“It’s not my fault your water’s so tickly!” Aang cringed at the memory. He took a deep breath before turning back to Zuko, getting into position. “Okay, I’m ready this time. You just surprised me.”

Zuko lifted an eyebrow before trying again, this time with less giggly results. Zuko wasn’t used to such silliness when it came to training, but it was endearing to see Aang was comfortable enough with him to act like that (even if it was slightly annoying).

They trained for another 15 or so minutes before Zuko called for a break, ready for his pre-lunch meditation. He leaned down to gather some of his scattered things into a bag, not noticing the figure creeping up behind him. Before he knew it, Zuko felt two hands give quick pinches to his hip. “AH-! Ggghaha-!” a strangled giggle fell out of him before he could stop it, squirming out of the grip and whipping his body around.

Aang stood behind him with a grin and hands raised in surrender, “Sorry, I had to get you back for earlier.”

Zuko scowled with a pink face, trying very hard to ignore Katara giggling behind Aang. “But I wasn’t even trying to tickle you earlier,” he groaned, turning back around but keeping his guard up. “It’s unfair catching me off guard like that.”

“Yeah, but you gotta admit, that sound you just made was pretty funny,” Aang snickered, sitting down next to Katara and stealing some of her water to fidget with as well. 

Zuko sighed, turning around to hide his warm face. “Whatever, I’m gonna meditate. Don’t bother me unless it’s for lunch,” he said before walking out of their view to his normal meditation spot.

-

Zuko was sat on his bed reading a book Uncle had given him forever ago. Being on the run meant he never really had time to just sit and read (and maybe it was partly his pride that wouldn’t allow him to do something he deemed so lazy), but honestly it wasn’t half bad. Sure, he could be training right now, but everyone else seemed content doing their own thing so maybe that was okay for him too. Uncle always said proper relaxation was an important tool for a warrior to learn.

His reading time, however, was cut short when he heard a knock at his doorway. Zuko looked up to see Sokka peeking his head around the corner.

“You need something?” Zuko asked, sitting his book down on the bed.

“Well, I–uh…” Sokka cleared his throat shuffling awkwardly in the doorway. “I was just wondering if you would, uh–help me out with something? It’s nothing major! You really don’t have to if you don’t wanna, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with, y’know, training the Avatar and everything, but like, I mean, if you maybe had the time–”

“Sokka,” Zuko interrupted his ramblings, holding the book up for him to see. “I’m not exactly doing anything important right now. I can do you a favor if you need it.”

Sokka sighed, “Okay, that’s good to hear because I really need your help right now,” he shuffled into Zuko’s room defeatedly, plopping himself next to the prince and throwing his head in his hands. “I think I sorta suck at hand-to-hand combat.”

Zuko nearly laughed at that. “Are you serious? You guys managed to take out every team I threw at you, and you think you’re bad at combat?”

“Yeah, but that was when I had everybody with me! You know, benders?!” Sokka sighed, “I’m not a bender, so having them with me to fight is like, insanely helpful. But…what if I end up alone at the next battle? What if I lose my sword? I’ll be useless! I need to know how to fight with my fists at least a little before we go out there.”

All this did was confuse Zuko even more. “Your girlfriend is a Kyoshi Warrior. Why aren’t you asking her for help? She’s the only other non-bender on the team, it seems pretty obvious.”

Sokka blushed and turned his head away, “Well that’s…actually part of it,” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “She’s so good at combat. And she’s a great teacher, don’t get me wrong! Everything I know about fighting, it came from her. But…I feel so stupid. We spar all the time, but she’s the one teaching me the moves, she knows what strategy I’m gonna take! I kinda…I wanna impress her during our next spar. Maybe show her something she hasn’t seen me do before,” Sokka looked up at Zuko with an unsure face. “I thought maybe you could teach me a thing or two?”

Zuko just stared for a moment, thinking it over. Sokka had that puppy-dog look on his face he always gets when he’s trying to win someone over…unfortunately for Zuko, he’s really good at that face. 

Zuko sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before standing and making his way towards the door. “I can’t promise it’ll help you any. I’m better at fighting with my bending than just plain combat. You’re already in good hands with Suki.”

Sokka jumped up, following behind Zuko like a puppy. “I know, but I just wanna see if it helps,” he wrapped an arm around the back of Zuko’s neck as they walked, the boy in question not acknowledging the touch whatsoever. “Can’t hurt to try, right?”

Zuko peeked an eye towards Sokka. “Whatever.”

They found an open area to spar, somewhere away from everyone else so no one could spill the “secret” to Suki. Not like anyone actually cared, but Sokka insisted this was the best move to make. 

They fought for a while, Sokka showing off the moves he learned from Suki, and Zuko trying to teach him anything that popped into his head that Sokka might not already know. But…the spar wasn’t really turning out the way Zuko had envisioned before they started.

Sokka was actually really good at this. Like, stupid good. Way better than he had given himself credit for just about an hour ago. He’d already pinned Zuko probably 5 times, and Zuko only got him down once. It was sorta embarrassing. Zuko kept reminding himself that the guy had been trained by a literal Kyoshi warrior, so it shouldn’t be that surprising.

Still, though. It did take a tiny blow to his ego that the guy asking him for training was practically kicking his butt right now.

“Woohoo! Down for the count again!” Sokka whooped from behind Zuko. The boy was pinned on his front, arms behind his back.

“I thought you wanted help,” Zuko wheezed, twisting his wrists in Sokka’s hold to no avail. “Now it feels like you just wanted bragging rights,” he mumbled.

Sokka didn’t say anything. Actually, he just kept looking down at Zuko with this look. His eyes a little wide, his lips sucked behind his teeth. 

You’re kidding. You’re kidding.

“Are you serious?!” Zuko yelled, starting to actually fight under Sokka’s hold now that he felt thoroughly pissed off. “Why would you lie about that?! You could’ve just asked for a spar!”

Sokka stammered, “Well, I was serious at first! I wasn’t lying! I really did want your help!” He paused, baring his teeth a little in guilt. “Buuuut…after we started sparring, I realized I was way better than I thought I was. I don’t know why, but I just kinda figured you’d be able to take me down with no trouble! You’re like, royally trained or something, right?”

Zuko frowned, “Yeah. I am,” he said. “In firebending.”

Sokka’s brows shot up. “Oh yeaaaah. Didn’t really think about that,” he chuckled nervously.

A beat passed in silence before both of them realized Sokka was still on top of him. Zuko twisted his wrists in Sokka’s hands, “Well? Are you gonna get off me?”

“I don’t really trust you not to turn me into bacon right now.”

“Sokka.”

Sokka laughed, “Y’know, it’s kinda funny if you think about it. Last year I used to run from you, and now I’ve got you literally pinned under me. I mean, really, it just writes itself!”

Zuko groaned, pressing his forehead to the floor. “You are…beyond annoying.”

“I’m just saying, if I had all this Kyoshi training last year, we might not even be here right now. Or maybe you’d have joined our group back then, after seeing how much of an asset to the team I am!” Sokka teased, pressing his body weight against Zuko’s arms so he could flex a muscle in Zuko’s eyeshot. 

Then, Sokka went quiet for a moment. Suspiciously quiet. Zuko was not a fan of his disadvantage right now. 

“Hey, who’s that fire nation girl that’s always hanging around your sister? You know, the one that can paralyze people?”

Zuko sighed, “That would be Ty Lee. Get off.”

“Yeah, Ty Lee! Man, it’d be so cool if she wasn’t the worst,” Sokka adjusted his grip a bit, like he was trying to get a better hold for something. What in the world is he planning?! “I bet I could learn a thing or two from that girl, strengthen up my fighting style a bit,” Sokka shrugged, “Eh, I bet I could be self taught. I just gotta find the right nerve…”

Before Zuko could even process what he was talking about, Sokka started poking up and down Zuko’s open sides, using one finger to poke one side, then the other, then back again. Over and over and over. 

“G-GaAH!” Zuko’s body jumped under the assault, squirming under his hold. “N-No, Sokka, let me–gohoho!” He giggled involuntarily, trying his best to hide his face in the floor while also trying to jerk away from Sokka’s ticklish hold.

“No, hold on, I think I’m getting the hang of this!” Sokka teased, poking up into Zuko’s ribs. Zuko couldn’t help the squeaky giggles falling from his lips, it was mortifying. He kicked his legs out behind Sokka like it would do anything, but with how good the boy had gotten at these warrior pins, Zuko didn’t stand a chance.

“S-stohohop! This is sohoho–ahaha so stuhupid!” Zuko cackled, writhing when he felt Sokka start pinching at his bony ribs. He could feel his face growing warmer by the second, horribly embarrassed by how easily Sokka can drag him into his playful little games.

“Okay, okay, just oneeee more thing,” Sokka said before bringing his hand up to flutter soft fingers against Zuko’s neck and ears. Crapcrapcrapcrap that really tickles. Zuko immediately fell into the most disgusting, high-pitched, girly-ish giggles he’s ever produced. It. Was. Terrible.

“Nohoho! Come ohohon! This is–ahaha this is so unfahahair!” Zuko whined, pulling against the hands holding him hostage. “This is assahahault!”

Sokka cackled at that, finally letting go of his very ticklish victim. He stood and backed away enough to let Zuko catch his breath, wiping a mirthful tear from his eye.

“You–pfff!! You’re so ticklish! Who woulda guessed that?!” Sokka laughed, practically doubled over in it. Zuko grumbled on the ground, sitting up and stretching his arms.

“And you are so childish,” he groveled, before launching at Sokka while he wasn’t paying attention. He grabbed around the boy’s waist and brought him to the ground with an ‘oof!’, the pair roughing it out for a moment before Zuko got the upper hand (Sokka was still laughing too much to put up a real fight). On the ground, Zuko had him trapped in a reverse bear hug, finding an opening near Sokka’s stomach to dig his own fingers in and make Sokka howl.

“Say you’re sorry!” Zuko grunted, trying to avoid a head butt from Sokka’s frantic squirming. “Say it!”

“AAAHH! AAAHAhahaha! I’m–! I’m ssssahahahah!” Sokka cackled, struggling to find the words with fingers digging incessantly into his stomach. Even in his wild state, Sokka could tell Zuko wasn’t very used to this, his tickling-style a little more rough than what he’s used to with the others. But luckily for Zuko, Sokka was a little too ticklish for it to actually affect anything.

“What? You can dish it but you can’t take it?!” Zuko fired back with his usual angry tone, though it was really hard to take seriously when he started pinching at Sokka’s side so viciously. 

“I cahaha–! It’s tooohohohoo–! AAAHH-!" Sokka's screaming laugh echoed through the temple, his head jerking back and forth. Zuko's fingers were getting tired, and this whole thing felt so stupid, but it was the principle of the thing! This is...how it works, right?

Zuko kept tickling despite not really knowing what he was doing, avoiding flailing limbs and a jerking head all the while. And right, right before he was about to just call it quits, he heard a cough from just outside his peripheral.

The pair froze, Zuko feeling his entire face grow warm in the matter of seconds. They both turned their heads slowly to see Suki standing there with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in question.

"You two having fun in here?" Suki asked through a smile, clearly on the verge of laughing. Zuko dropped Sokka like a sack of potatoes, standing up quickly with a finger pointed right at Sokka.

“He started this! He attacked me first, but–but I got out! And then he started laughing, and, I mean–it was so stupid! This is so stupid!” Zuko yelled in embarrassment, throwing his hands up to cover his whole face.

Suki giggled and walked over towards her boyfriend on the ground. “Aw, did the big mean firebender get you?” She teased a frowning (and blushing) Sokka. Suki held out her hand to him, “Come on, get up.”

Sokka took it with a scowl, refusing to make eye contact with Zuko. At least, until Sokka remembered how this whole thing started, his whole demeanor lighting up in an instant. “Oh you’ll never believe this. I beat Zuko. In a spar,” he whooped, looking over towards the firebending to find him scowling with his arms crossed. “Actually, it was like ten!”

“Six. It was just six,” Zuko squinted at Sokka in contempt.

“Okay, but six is still a lot compared to your one win,” Sokka boasted, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend.

Suki pulled herself out of his hold, “Uh, sure, but I think after what I saw, Zuko’s still the winner here,” she said, shooting an affirming smile Zuko’s way. 

Sokka dropped his jaw, “What?! But–But I beat him! Like, TONS of times?!” He exclaimed, “And I’m the one that started that! I tickled Zuko first, he totally went down!”

“When I was already pinned!” Zuko argued, angry he couldn’t make his blush fade any faster.

Suki sucked her teeth, “Sokka, if you started this, that’s even worse,” she shrugged. “You cheated. Zuko’s clearly the winner here, he just finished what you started” Suki pat Sokka’s back, shooting Zuko an empathetic look. “Sorry my boyfriend’s so childish. If you ever want a real spar, you know where to find me.”

Zuko looked surprised, really expecting her to tease him like everybody else did. “Oh, uh…yeah, whatever. Sure.”

Suki smiled, taking Sokka by the shoulders and walking him off. Zuko could hear her scolding as they walked away, “Next time we spar, I’ll show you how a real warrior cheats.”

Zuko wasn’t really sure how to take that. In fact, he decided it was probably best to ignore whatever that meant. Instead, he just grabbed his bag and tried forgetting this whole embarrassing mess ever happened.

–

“Zuko, I’m so sorry! I’m so so so sorry, I never meant for this to happen!” Aang practically cried behind Zuko, his words muffled under the hands he used to cover his mouth in guilt. “If you never wanna train me again, I’d understand. I just…I’m so sorry. I’m so—”

“Aang, it’s fine. I already told you it’s fine,” Zuko sighed, propping his bare foot up on the stool of earth Toph made for him. “Believe me, I’ve been burned way worse than this.”

“But that’s different!” Aang cried, falling on his butt to hide his face in his knees. “I can’t believe I burned someone. Again.”

“You’re still learning. It happens,” Zuko winced when Katara took hold of his ankle to get a better look at the burn. “Trust me, I burned a few of my trainers when I was growing up too. It’s just part of firebending. Once you’ve mastered it, you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Aang lifted his head with a sniffle. “Yeah…I guess you’re right,” he sighed. “Still feel bad, though.”

“As long as it doesn’t affect your training going further, I really don’t care,” Zuko shrugged, leaning back against his hands.

“That’s a little rude, don’t you think?” said Katara, popping the cork from her water bottle.

“Not really. I don’t care. I’m fine, and Aang will be too,” Zuko said, before gasping as Katara let the healing water wash over his feet. He jerked his foot back off the stool, making Katara raise an eyebrow.

“Zuko?” She looked down at the empty stool. “Kinda need your foot for this.”

Aang lit up, the smile finally returned to his face when he realized with a giggle, “I forgot! Zuko’s ticklish!”

“I am not! It just surprised me!” Zuko argued, throwing his foot back on the stool with confidence (though the pout he sported said otherwise).

Katara snickered, holding her water up so Zuko could see. “Well it’s a good thing you aren’t ticklish then, cause Aang could barely sit still last time I did this to him.”

“Yeah, Toph nearly had to earthbend my hands to the ground to keep me from moving,” Aang nodded, clearly feeling more chipper than a moment ago. Zuko cringed at the thought, shaking his head to clear it from overthinking.

“That will not be necessary,” Zuko huffed. “Just get to it, I’ll be fine. We need to get back to training.”

Katara shrugged, bringing the water to his foot and starting the healing process. Zuko immediately gasped again, his foot nearly jerking off the stool. He caught himself this time, but no one in the room missed the flinch.

Well, except for Toph, but only out of technicality’s sake.

“Your hearts racing, Sparky,” Toph sang, never missing an opportunity to tease their resident grump.

“Shut up, Toph,” Zuko said through bared teeth, straining himself to keep from letting a giggle slip. He squirmed in his seat, toes clenching and unclenching involuntarily. If he can just get through this without cracking, there’ll be nothing for these weirdos to tease him about. He can do this.

“Y’know, you should probably breathe soon. Don’t want you dying on us while I’m healing you,” Katara said, looking up from her water at Zuko’s puffed cheeks and pink face. He’d been too focused to even realize he was holding his breath in the first place. Slowly, Zuko exhaled through his nose before flinching hard again at a more solid sensation in the center of his foot.

“Grrk–!” Zuko jumped, scowling at Katara who started snickering.

“Sorry, my finger slipped,” she grinned, making the other two start giggling at his expense. 

“It’s really okay if you need to laugh, Zuko,” said Aang. “There’s no way I could’ve held it in like you are.”

“I said I’m fine. It doesn’t even…” Zuko huffed, the water finding a particularly sensitive spot right at the worst time possible, making him growl through a giggle. He shut his eyes tight, “Juhust shut up.”

–

At first, his days in the air on Appa were something Zuko wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He had to admit, it was definitely cool getting to ride a sky-bison thousands of feet in the air after he’d been told his whole life the species had gone extinct with the rest of the air-benders. There was some excitement to it the first couple rides he got to experience.

But after about the fifth time, it was really starting to get old.

“I thought I knew what boredom felt like when I was out camping with Uncle, but this is really something else,” Zuko groaned, throwing his head over the side of the saddle.

“Zukoooo, remember what I keep telling you about the positive attitude?” Aang reminded him from Appa’s head, steering the bison in what felt like the same direction for hours.

“No, he’s right. This is super boring,” Sokka whined, picking at Appa’s fur with a pout.

“Don’t you guys ever, I don’t know…play any games while you’re up here?” Zuko asked, feeling a little silly about it. Playing games was so childish, but it seemed to fit this group’s whole vibe pretty well. Couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Yeah we used to, until Toph took it too seriously one time and Katara banned fun,” Sokka shot a look at his sister, who scoffed at the mention.

“Um, I did not ban fun. I banned Pushies,” Katara corrected him with a squint.

“Ah, Pushies. The good ole days when having a laugh wasn’t forbidden by Her Highness,” said Toph, nearly making Katara blow a fuse.

Zuko hated to ask, but this was the most entertained he’d felt in the past two hours. With an incredulous look, he asked, “What’s Pushies?”

“It was the best,” Sokka sighed like he was daydreaming. “Toph and I would push each other back and forth until one of us got too scared and called quits.”

“Which I never did, by the way–”

“Uh, not true! You know you called quits that one time-”

“Because you nearly pushed me off Appa!”

“Not true AGAIN! You couldn’t see it, but you were totally fine-”

“Oh so because I’m blind it’s my fault they won’t let us play Pushies anymore?!”

“That’s not what I meant-!”

“GUYS!” Aang shouted, throwing a stern look over his shoulder towards the group. The pair went silent before both slouching back against the saddle. “No. Pushies.”

They both grumbled to themselves, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth the fight. Zuko looked to the sky at their bickering, thankful his temper wasn’t like it used to be.

“Games other than Pushies exist, you know. We just have to make one up,” he suggested, sitting criss-crossed to face the group. 

“Did you play any games on that murder-ship you used to ride?” Katara asked with a tone, her mood clearly a bit dampened.

Zuko grimaced, “I was kinda too focused on capturing Aang for games back then.” Zuko sighed, throwing his head and arms back over the saddle to stare into the sky. “Forget it. Let’s just go back to sitting in silence.”

It seemed like the rest of the group agreed, because for the next few minutes that’s exactly what they did. The wind whistling in their ears was the only sound to focus on.

That is, until Zuko felt something tweak his side, making him squeak an awful sound. He whipped his head around to find everyone suspiciously not looking at him. Sokka picked at his fingers, Katara seemed a little too interested in the cloth of her dress, and Toph…well, she looked straight ahead, but that was to be expected.

Zuko fumed, “Who did that?”

Sokka looked up from his fingers, “Hm? Who did what?”

Oh, Zuko was so onto them. Pointing a finger at Sokka with a squint, “Don’t. Do it. Again.” He said sternly, before turning back around towards the sky. Zuko swore he could hear them snickering behind him, but hoped that would be the end of it.

Another minute went by with nothing, and for some reason Zuko really thought he evaded trouble with that intimidation move he pulled. Clearly he didn’t know this group well enough yet.

Another tweak to his side, this one closer to his ribs this time. Anything near his ribs always made him flinch hard, his elbow shooting down to cover the area with a giggly shout. Zuko growled when he faced them, “Seriously, who’s doing this?!” They all looked up at him like they were clueless. He’s gonna kill them. “Answer me!”

Finally, he heard Toph giggle, clearly unaffected by his little hissy fit. “It was me. Both times, actually,” she grinned, throwing a leg over her knee. “What, you gonna do something about it?”

Zuko’s jaw locked forward, feeling like he was breathing smoke out of his nose. His hands clenched beside him, telling himself it would probably not be the “right thing” throwing this twelve year old over the side of Appa.

With a grumble, he fixed his face and looked up to the sun above him. “You people are crazy.” Zuko crossed his arms and slumped against the saddle, decidedly not turning away from Toph this time. Everyone got a chuckle out of that, even Aang.

“No, I think Toph’s the crazy one,” he chuckled, smiling over his shoulder. “The rest of us are pretty normal, right?”

Zuko deadpanned Aang’s way. “No.”

Toph crawled over beside Zuko, who nearly flinched at her presence. “Lighten up, Sparky! Remember what Aang said? Positive attitude?” She accentuated Aang’s words with more tweaks to Zuko’s side, these far more ticklish now that she doesn’t have to hide it. Zuko jumped with a giggly shout, trying hard to hide his side with his elbow, but that just made Toph reach around his back to get his other side.

“Gah-! N-Nohoho!” He complained, pushing at her hands and face. “Quihit!”

“Cmooon I’m bored! This is the most entertained I’ve been in hours!” Toph tickled into Zuko’s ribs as she talked, making him fall over on his side in giggles. He kept pushing at her with his hands, but his stupid body kept betraying him, his elbows shooting down to cover the area too much to really fight back.

“Toph-! Tohohoph!” Zuko squealed, everyone around laughing at his funny noises. These people are the worst. “Gahaha! Get her ohoff mehehe!” He cackled, feeling her fingers vibrate into his ribs and stomach at the same time. Zuko’s eyes were scrunched tight in mirth, feeling silly and stupid and ticklish.

“This is too good. You sound like a girl!” Toph laughed, poking into his side like a typewriter. Zuko couldn’t stop giggling, flipping over on his stomach to crawl away (though he didn’t have much room, cramped on this stupid saddle with the rest of these freaks). He opted for crawling as close to Katara as he could get, praying she’d take pity on him and make Toph stop embarrassing him already.

Katara chuckled, “Okay, I think he’s had enough,” grabbing for Toph’s wrist (her hand still trying to worm it’s way under Zuko’s armpit) Katara pulled Toph away from Zuko as he slumped close to her side panting.

“Aweee, what?! I was just getting started!” Toph whined, making another grabbing motion in Zuko’s general direction that had him flinching with a squeak.

“You heard her, quit it!” Zuko griped, trying to silently maneuver himself as far from Toph as possible without her hearing. It was like a game of cat and mouse, Toph listening for any subtle sound Zuko made for her to launch her free arm in his direction, making him zip out of her reach before she could grab him. 

“Cut it out, this is ridiculous!” Zuko complained, getting behind Sokka and gripping his shoulders like a human shield. “Ha! How ‘bout that, shortstack?!” 

“Hey! Don’t rope me into this–AHH! NO! NONONOHohohoho!!” Sokka fell over on his side in giggles the moment Katara let go of Toph’s arm, the shorter girl launching for his sides.

“This’ll do for now!” Toph cheered, digging into Sokka’s waist with her rough fingers and making him howl. “I’ll catch you eventually, Sparky! Just wait til I’m finished with him!” she grinned wickedly, Sokka losing his mind just below her.

“But you already—! Gah, forget it,” Zuko sighed, crawling silently over beside Katara to hopefully avoid getting involved in that mess again. “She’s ruthless.”

Katara giggled, shooting Zuko a smile, “You get used to it.”

-

Zuko caught himself smiling at dinner. It was weird, usually when he smiled, it felt like an intentional move. Smiling to convince someone he’s happy, or smiling to fake innocence. But tonight…he started smiling before he even realized he was doing it.

Aang was telling some silly story from over 100 years ago, something from his childhood before all this. It was a stupid story, something Zuko would’ve found himself scoffing at if he had heard it even just a few months ago.

But things are good now. He felt good. Happiness came easy to him, like breathing or pulling fire from his hands. Zuko never thought he’d get to feel this again after everything he’d gone through, but these weirdos just had a way with him.

Something about these people, his friends, was always able to make him smile. They were annoying. They’re loud. They’re way too touchy, and always in his personal space. Like now, with Toph curled against his side as she laughed along to Aang’s story.

And yet? Zuko’s come to be okay with that. He’s come to like it about them, as crazy as it sounds. 

The fire he sat in front of now didn’t have to be a threat. It was home.

—

A/N : i was all over the place writing this LMAO hope yall like it anyways cause it was fun to write!! pls consider reblogging if u enjoyed!! <3

[m1d-45]

divine favor

summary: so, they’re your favorite vessel. how do they react? includes yae miko, itto, kazuha, kaeya, chongyun, and noelle, in that order

word count: ~800

-> warnings: like one swear word?

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me

< masterlist >

yae miko — out and proud

uses her connection to the divine as leverage almost every chance she gets, showing off the extra gleam to her vision eagerly. occasionally teases ei over the fact that she’s the favorite, not the literal archon. she’s maybe a bit surprised herself at that fact at first, but she’s not about to let that show when using it for her wants is so much more interesting.

“Please, of course I know what I’m doing. I wasn’t chosen by the divine for nothing.”

itto — show off

literally the moment you log off after wishing him for the first time he meets up with the gang to celebrate. it doesn’t matter if you only brought him to level 20 or instantly fully leveled him, he goes on about it for hours. any changes to his weapon would be shown off, and if you get his signature then he’s incredibly proud of it. sometimes he pokes fun at kujou sara because of his glider, but shinobu usually keeps it quiet enough nothing bad really happens. it’s not like sara can do much since he’s a favored vessel, but the gang doesn’t have to know that.

“Guys, come here! No, it’s not an onikabuto this time, look! I got a new sword today, isn’t it cool?”

kazuha — doesn’t exactly hide it

kazuha never gloats or tells stories when they aren’t wanted, but… instead of climbing down the mast when returning from the crow’s nest, he’s more commonly seen jumping from the side, letting his glider catch him. despite being an inazuman native, his time with you has made him an expert at gliding, a fact typically seen in the delicate fold of his glider every time his feet touch the deck. he makes sure to take care of it, running his fingers through the soft, feather-like mechanisms on its surface partly to remove any salt built up, but also because he likes the feeling.

“It was the chance of fate that allowed me to become so close to my god. Nothing more, nothing less.”

kaeya — flashy in the front, “what the fuck” in the back

he hadn’t expected to become a vessel so soon in your journey, but adapted quickly. you were early in your journey throughout teyvat, so he honestly expected you to drop him once you got someone more powerful, someone you surely liked more. and then you didn’t. and then he’s suddenly fighting with impossible speed and strength, his vision a sharp, glittering blue, and with every day that passes where he’s still the subject of your favor, the shock sets in a bit more. he doesn’t even go to the angels share the night he’s triple crowned, too dazed to try and interact with people, instead laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling.

“Why would i be their favorite? …Don’t tell me you’ve gone and started questioning the divine now, have you?”

chongyun — disbelieving

literally in shock the entire day after he’s been wished. also doesn’t matter how much you prepared for him, he’s stunned. he can feel his power grow, his claymore something new and so much sharper, a glider he doesn’t quite know how to use yet now at his disposal. once the shock wears off he has to take a few hours to calm himself down and keep from overheating, most likely with the help of xingqiu, xiangling, and the cool breeze by the ocean.

“I-I don’t know what I did… I’ve never even properly exorcised a demon—am I really worthy of this?”

noelle — oh jeez oh god oh wait oh jeez-

similar to kaeya, she was surprised that she was chosen so quickly, but rationalized it just as fast. she was to be a stepping stone, someone to protect you early on, a transient phase while you got your standing in teyvat. yes you leveled her, yes you took her with you to liyue, but that’s just because you hadn’t gotten anybody better, right? you didn’t… she wasn’t really your favorite, right..? poor noelle, it takes you fully ascending her for her to finally acknowledge your favoritism. though she doesn’t know what she’s done to earn this spot, she’s more than proud of it, taking the badge of her vision more seriously than her duties to the knights.

“It doesn’t matter what I’ve done to earn this place, what matters is that I do my very best to keep it.”

[somewhere-south-of-neutral]

This is a post that I’ve been planning on making for well over a year, but have been putting off repeatedly. Tomorrow, I start my final semester of undergraduate education, however, and I want to go into it as the most myself me I can be. So, to quote the great Rav Hillel, “If I am not for myself, who is for me? [...] If not now, when?”. But first, some backstory.

When I was like two or three, I saw my sister and mother painting their nails and, naturally, I wanted to join them. Apparently, I asked for my polish to be purple, still my favorite color, and my mom is genuinely still proud of the fact that I painted my own toes, apparently very well, at the tender age of not-quite-three. The next day, I went into preschool, and when my preschool teacher saw my toes, she asked me who painted them. I, of course, proudly exclaimed that I had done it myself. 

She then proceeded to gruffly explain to me that I was not allowed to have painted toes, because little boys aren't allowed to paint their nails, and I was a little boy. When I got home, I asked my mom why she let me paint my nails even though I was a little boy and therefore not allowed. 

My mom, who I imagine was as close to genuinely desiring that preschool teacher’s death as she ever has been of anyone’s, before calling the school to ask “what the hell?”, did her best to explain to me that the teacher was wrong. She tried to explain that nail polish, and other nice things in that category, are for EVERYONE, boy or girl. But it was too late, the damage was done.

In the over twenty years since, I never wore nail polish, even when asked if I wanted to join. My parents were successful in instilling in me a deep suspicion of the general idea that some things are “for girls” and others are “for boys”, but I could never apply that suspicion to myself. Sometimes, when you are queer and neurodivergent and learning to mask, you get your wires crossed. Over time, despite my disregard for gender conformity in others, I became deeply uncomfortable with the idea of myself not conforming to a certain degree of gender presentation. 

Boys don’t paint their nails, so mine remained bare.

Boys don’t wear bright colors and patterns, so I am most comfortable wearing grays and blacks and monotone clothing.

Boys don’t show strong emotion, so I maintain an air of stoicism.

Boys don’t cry, so, to this day, even alone, I have trouble letting myself just cry.

The fact that, despite living in a house where all of these stereotypes were actively discouraged, I internalized them all says something about how pervasive they are in our society. 

In second grade, I was very close friends with several of the girls in my class, until the whispers developed into a new internal Rule that (straight) Boys don’t hang out with girls unless they have a Crush. I didn’t have a Crush, so I stopped hanging out with them, because that was the Rule.

I didn’t have many friends in elementary and middle school.

By high school, I had somewhat gotten over that rule. Most of my small friend group was female. That said, I still made sure not to show undue affection, lest anyone think, God forbid, that I was experiencing and/or acting on physical attraction, like some sort of CREEP. 

Then, like two or three years ago (I honestly have zero sense of time at this point) I learned about, realized that I was, and came out as aromantic and asexual. It unlocked something in me. I started saying "I love you" to and hugging my friends (male and female). Realizing that I wasn’t straight let me let go of some of the internalized rules about things that I felt I had to conform to as a straight man, because it turns out I wasn’t. It also let me start thinking about gender. 

I increasingly realized that I didn’t feel super connected to my masculinity. It was just sort of… there. Finally, (reading The Murderbot Diaries helped) it finally cracked and I decided that I didn’t actually need a gender anyway… and then I didn’t do anything about it for an entire year. But now I’m ready to say it:

Hi! I’m agender. I use any pronouns. I am not a boy, and that means I’m allowed to do things that boys don’t do.

Do you like my nails?

[seokmthw]

crying eyes | shen ricky

⇢ pairing: insecure!ricky x reader

⇢ warning: angst, fluff, mentions of poor self-esteem but nothing major

⇢ word count: 955

prompt(s): #3 "hey, it's okay to cry" + #5 "you don't have to be so brave with me" + #6 "how long did you think you could hide this?" + #19 "oh sweetheart, come here"

⇢ note: hello to the anon who requested this! i took a bit of a different spin on this one, so i hope it's everything you wanted! i wrote this so quickly and i genuinely don't know how, but i'm pretty proud of it! enjoy~

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ricky stared at himself in the mirror as he danced, eyes trained on every single move and every single mistake he kept making despite his efforts. he had stayed well after practice, trying his best to perfect every part of his routine for his upcoming show, but just could seem to get the ending right no matter how many times he redid it.

nearing the end, he spun, but instead of landing how he was meant to, he lost his balance. he cursed at himself under his breath, angrily shutting off the music and standing there for a moment in disbelief. he wasn’t quite sure what to do from here, but his frustration was beginning to get the best of him as he worked.

he took a swig of his water before turning the music back on, but skipping to the ending to try and perfect one of his final spins. much to his dismay, he was off-balance again, this time tumbling down to the floor with a thud. he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, hair messy and sweat dripping down his temples, and all he could say was, “this is so fucking pathetic.”

he quickly rose to his feet, beginning to mutter things under his breath about how horrible he was and how he didn't think he deserved to have this dance solo. unbeknownst to him, you'd been watching him the past few minutes, feeling your heart break each time he beat himself up over making a mistake.

unable to handle seeing him like that anymore, you walked into the room, snagging the boy's attention with your presence almost immediately. he looked tired, the bags underneath of his eyes evident of his hard work over the past few days. you gave him a sad smile, softly telling him, “i thought i might find you here.”

“i was just finishing up,” ricky attempted to lie, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, but it was no use. he knew you'd caught him in the midst of him beginning to break down.

“i know better.”

upon hearing your words, something shifted within the boy’s head and tears began dripping down his cheeks, though he angry wiped them away as soon as they fell, “sorry, i didn’t think this would happen.”

“hey, it’s okay to cry,” you reassured him, stepping forward to get closer to him. ricky hung his head, finding a new interest in his shoe laces the more you approached his figure. more tears fell, but this time, he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“i just don’t understand what i’m doing wrong, y/n,” he managed to sputter out in between his cries, “no matter how hard i word, not matter how many times i try to fix it, i just can't. and i feel like all i’m going to do is let my team down,” by now, his shoulders were shaking with with sobs, and before you knew it, the barrier he had built up was slowly beginning to break down right in front of you.

you were finally in close enough proximity to grab onto one of his trembling hands, “oh sweetheart, come here.”

upon hearing your words, the blonde practically melted into your touch, allowing you to hold him as he let out a noise you'd never heard him make the entire time you'd been dating. he buried his face in your shoulder, balling his fists up into the fabric of your jacket, almost as if he believed you would disappear from his grasp if you didn’t.

you stood like that for a while, allowing your boyfriend to cry as much as he needed to. you sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. you almost felt bad you hadn't detected this sooner, but you knew ricky was capable of putting on a front that was believable, even to you.

“do you want to talk about it? would that help?” you offered, rubbing small circles on his back as a way of comfort, “you don’t have to be so brave with me, you know.”

he nodded, voice muffled against your skin as he spoke, “i know i don’t. it’s just a lot of things bottled up that picked now to explode. the pressure of getting my routine right, of not letting the other members down, and not burdening everyone around me.”

you pulled ricky away momentarily, surveying his face intently. you forced him to meet your gaze, questioning, “how long did you think you could hide this? it’s not healthy to keep all of those emotions to yourself.”

“i don’t- i don’t know, truthfully. i just didn't want anyone to worry about me.”

“you listen to me right now,” your voice was stern, but gentle, “you will never, ever burden me with talking about how you feel.”

“y/n-”

you stuck a hand up to shush him, “i’m not done, mister. you can always come to me, no matter what. and for what it's worth, you are extremely talented and you're severely underestimating that. you put everything into your practice, so just because you keep making mistakes doesn't mean you're bad. got it?”

you could see him fighting off a smile, “yeah, i think so.”

“good. i’m never going anywhere if i have any say in it,” you stood on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips, “no let's get you home so you can rest.”

he nodded, pulling you in for another hug, his chin rested on your shoulder and eyes fluttering closed upon feeling you squeeze him back. he sighed, “thank you for reassuring me. it means more than you know.”

“anything for you, my love.”

[thebettybook]

On Your Mark…Get Set…Itto!!!

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About: Racing Driver Itto AU headcanons. Racing Driver Itto is also gn!reader’s boyfriend.

Photo and border credits: Itto art from HoYoFair on Twitter. Kaomoji borders from “Emoji Combos” website.

Warnings: None, all fluff and crack headcanons, enjoy :D

Special note: Woke up and saw the new HoYoFair art of Itto, and now Racing Driver Itto is living in my mind rent-free :’)🫶

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🏁 Racing Driver Itto got into racing after he watched Cars *one* time. He claims that Lightning McQueen is his role model.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto, in all seriousness though, has never seen a professional Oni racing driver before. He’s the first, and he feels a strong sense of responsibility to represent all the Oni out there and show the world how proud he is to be an Oni.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto is the type to name his race car “Petunia” or something equally wholesome. He got the race car at a junkyard and spent days and nights fixing up the car. Itto painted his race car in all colors of the rainbow, and decorated his race car with string lights (he had to take off the string lights because he wasn’t allowed to race with them).

🏁 Racing Driver Itto can barely afford car maintenance and even gas, so when he’s not racing, he’s working odd jobs here and there in Inazuma to make more Mora to support his racing endeavors. The Arataki Gang, even Shinobu, also pick up odd jobs because they want to help Itto.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto, who’s also your boyfriend, calls you his good luck charm. Sure, he has his prized Onikabuto plushie in his race car at all times, but Itto truly believes that he won’t have a good race if he doesn’t get a kiss (or two, or three) from you before the race.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto always says “Psh, I’ll be fine” whenever you tell him to be careful on the tracks and to not do any reckless stunts while racing. While it doesn’t seem like he’s listening, Itto takes your words to heart because he never wants to make you worried.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto thinks he’s the luckiest Oni in the whole wide world when he sees you in the stands as you wave a poster you made for him. Every race, you’d be there with his Arataki Gang, and all of you would make sure to be the loudest in the stands to cheer Itto on.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto, before the start of every race, always makes sure to dramatically comb back his hair with a black comb he keeps in his pocket.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto has never won a race, but he’s determined to win one someday. He’s competitive by nature, and he has the drive to excel at anything he sets his heart and mind to.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto is the type to adorably yell “Look, Granny! I’m on TV!” when a cameraperson aims their camera at him. During interviews, he’ll always talk about Granny Oni, you, and the Arataki Gang.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto, despite appearing confident, is surprised when he learns that so many people in Inazuma are cheering him on: the kids he’s played games with, their parents, and even the Tenryou Commission! The Tenryou Commission is just glad that Itto’s not up to his usual shenanigans on the streets of Inazuma now that he’s more busy being a racing driver.

🏁 Racing Driver Itto, when he finally chooses to listen to Coach Ayato’s advice, ends up winning a race for the first time. “I WON? I WON! BOOYAH, BABY! Look out world! Arataki Itto, the Numero Uno Racing Driver, is here to stay!” Before Itto can jump up and down in joy, the Arataki Gang is already lifting him up and throwing him in the air. Once they let Itto down, he catches sight of you. Without warning, Itto lifts you up and twirls you around. He feels like the king of the world, even more so when he finally puts you down and you tackle him with hugs and kisses.

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Important:

🍓 I don’t own any of the characters I mention or write about; they belong to their original and respective creators.

🍓 All content on this blog is created by me, @thebettybook (excluding posts I reblog that aren’t my own posts and unless I state otherwise). Do not modify, claim, repost, or translate my work onto this platform and any other platform.

🍓 Reblogs are appreciated :).

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[liffy-feelin-jiffy]

So you know how some of y’all want Goggles to break from his “happy go lucky” character and snap at some point?

Here’s the idea—what if… and just hear me out for a second: but what if like the S5, I’m gonna go ahead and use all of the S5, what if they tried to bet on him? They come to Splatsville, there’s a tournament coming up, but here’s the kicker, it’s only a 1v1 tournament, meaning that it’s only single player versus another single player; no teams. Like all the other arcs, there’s a big baddie that always comes on top, let’s call her GhostSong. Not even the best eight could best her. The people of Splatsville like to use her tournament wins as an easy way to scam foreign players for their super sea snails because they never truly understand how strong she really is as a player. The S5, however, have seen what Goggles is capable of, so they really don’t hesitate when it comes down to just using him and his potential win for easy snails (and Aloha’s also in on it to try to impress this girl he likes by being all like “yeah, my friend? He’s totally gonna win this thing, just you wait), even up against another big bad because, hey, it’s just another Tuesday to Goggles, what’s it gonna hurt?

So they coax Goggles to join, and it’s really not that hard because the challenge makes him kind of excited, and his own team encourages him to do it so he’s all in on it. He beats down the first foes with ease by being the goofy dumbass he is, but then things start to get serious and it gets the S5 worried because their snails depends on this idiot winning, and they’re determined because not only is it a lot of grub to win, but they risk losing a bunch of snails of their own Goggles loses their bet. Next thing you know, he starts fumbling and just barely wins in this one match, so then that’s when they’re like “alright, we’re heading to the training field.” They start giving him grueling training, like sunrise to sunset kind of deal. Rider is making him lift weights, Army is making him do laps while reading and rereading the squidnet manual, Aloha is trying to get him to do dodging exercises, Mask is trying to teach him how to enhance his Sub weapon skills, and Skull is trying to train him to be aware of his surroundings and stay hidden… Else he’ll get sniped.

With the exception of Aloha sneaking him some protein shakes to stay hydrated and Mask lazy enough to allow him a few breaks, Goggles is just having a rough time. On top of all of that, he’s constantly being pressured by their words, too. They got the idea nailed in his head that if he loses, he’ll disappointment himself, his team, and all of his other friends, especially the S5 since they’re training him. At this point, Goggles is not only physically exhausted, but he’s mentally and emotionally exhausted because all of a sudden, this tournament doesn’t feel fun anymore… But he can’t just back out now, he promised his pals that he would win, so that he could make them and his team proud and put that so called, big bad, no good bully into her place.

… That’s the plan, right?

Of course it wouldn’t take long for Goggles’ teammates and other friends to notice the retched state he happens to be in every time he shows up for another match, and of course they’re gonna be worried out of their minds. Specs is lecturing him about not cleaning some of his scabs he got where he scraped himself on the pavement during training, Headphones is astounded by how tan his skin has become while terrified at how many sunburns he has, and Bobble is confused as to why her happy go lucky buddy isn’t as bright and joyful as he used to be, and it makes her a little sad and worried. His team, including Mitsuami tries to voice their concerns to him, and even his other friends like Emperor, Vintage, Hachi, and even all of the best eight are like “bro, are you good??? 😐” But despite it all, Goggles just shrugs it off, thinking that it’s no big deal. Really, he just doesn’t wanna have to deal with all of them being concerned for no reason—at least that’s what he believes. It’s just how training goes. No pain, no gain.

It’s all going… Manageable, but then there’s this one guy trying to heckle him. A sore loser kind of guy, and he’s trying to give Goggles hell for it. The dude makes the pretty bad mistake of hitting a nerve by making an awful joke about his mother, and next thing you know, he gets clocked right square in the nose and people have gotta hold back a snarling Goggles to keep him from tearing this guy atom by atom. It’s at that point that everyone is HORRIFIED by what’s happening, even GhostSong is shocked and is all like “oh shit 👀” because while Goggles may love his momma to pieces, he’s not the kind of person to just suddenly go off like that. Amongst the S5, Rider tries to help calm him down, but it only leads to Goggles exploding onto him. He starts ranting about how he was expecting the S5, especially Rider out of all the S5, to be proud of him. Except he’s tired, he’s been driven to the edge, and he’s just straight up exhausted with everything and he doesn’t wanna have to deal with anything for a whole month. It’s at this point that even the S5 realize that they went a little too far on him, and they all opt to let Goggles take the day off from training to cool himself down.

Although, it’s the very next day, just a day before the final match between Goggles and GhostSong, team blue decide it’s time to confront the S5. As the leader along with the co captain, Specs and Headphones are angry that a teammate of theirs is being taken advantage of by people who they looked up to and called friends. Meanwhile, Bobble is just upset with how Goggles has been acting and wants to know what happened to make him act like that. That’s when the S5 hesitantly choose to come clean about what’s going on.

Goggles happens to be taking a walk by himself to clear his mind, when he accidentally catches wind of the conversation amongst the S5 and his own team. Too curious to shy away, Goggles decides to eavesdrop, wondering what they’re talking about. Is it about him? Is it plans for their next training session tomorrow morning? Are they saying how they’re dissatisfied in him? Are they proud of him? Or-

Oh… Oh.

Yeah… I mean, you wouldn’t be happy to find out you were being used as a pawn, would ya?

So obviously, Goggles is not happy about this one bit, and in an impulsive fit of passionate anger, hurt, and betrayal, he stomps all the way up to the lobby, fighting back all the tears threatening to spill, he finds a tournament organizer or specialist, and tells them that he forfeits the match. GhostSong wins by default.

The S5 are just plain embarrassed when they find out they’ve been caught red handed, especially when Goggles shows up and announces to everyone that he forfeited the match. His team is surprised upon learning he heard their conversation, and the S5 are stunned at what he’s done, but they suddenly become a whole lot more guilty once the situation settles in an they realize, “man, we were kinda assholes to him...” Skull tries to go after Goggles to apologize, but Goggles wants none of it. No part in it, no words from him, no sorries, carry yourself back to the Asslands, land of the assholes. The rest of team Blue is chewing out the rest of the S5 in front of the ENTIRE TOWN, going on about how they used their friend for a pile of sea snails where everyone else can hear them. Even Aloha’s crush is disappointed in him. Now mans is gonna die alone 😭.

Amidst the crowd, GhostSong is actually quite displeased with the sudden change of mind from her could’ve-been opponent. That’s an understatement, she was not gonna take that as an answer. She was anticipating that match the whole tournament, she knew about team blue the whole time and she was EXCITED to get to play against Goggles because she thought she would get to experience something new for once, other than another egotistical player who she’d just sweep under the feet and kick to the curb once she’s finished beating them in the final match. So… Ghost decides to go have a little talk with him. Said talk actually turns out to be a little motivating to Goggles, and it’s actually just what he needs to get back into higher spirits. She also makes sure no bets are made so no one can take advantage of the game and trade snails. If someone still tries… Then they were gonna have a little friendly talk with her, in the alleyway.

Cut to the match. No surprise that GhostSong is the first to take the advantage and gain dominance over the stage. However, unlike any other major player Goggles ever had to face, GhostSong was playing to have fun, and she wasn’t taking anything seriously, which was a mistake Goggles was doing himself. All of his training with the S5 made him so stiff and too serious in the way he played, and he struggled an embarrassingly long amount of time from the start to the middle. Until he just, let it all go. GhostSong kinda had to help him unwind by playing childishly with him, and it gave him the confidence to unwind and do what he did best, bringing back his true self into the match.

And yeah, he probably goes on and tosses his clothes aside in the match, causing GhostSong to be like “😶” while Specs, watching from the audience is like “Yep, Goggles is back in town. 😑”

At the end of the battle… Goggles loses. Everyone is shocked, especially GhostSong, but he ends up being just fine with it, like, “Eh, I lost. Whatcha gonna do?” Because all that mattered was that he had fun. Not only that, but for the first time in a while, GhostSong smiles a real, genuine smile under her mask. A shake of hands, and the two a now a pair of good friends. (She starts noogying him hehehe NOOGIES).

A little after the match is over, the S5 take it upon themselves to come up and apologize for, well, being piece of shits and using and abusing their friend for rare currency. Goggles… Actually doesn’t forgive them at first, and he probably never will (emphasis on “probably”), as what they did was pretty scummy, but he’s not mad at them no more. He just wants to go back to playing games and having fun with all his buddies like the good ol days, and the S5 are happy with that.

Fin.

[crown-of-roses-thsc]

ART TRADES: Closed

This AU now has a blog because…..I feel like the tumblr people would like it!

Like me or my comic? Give me a donation or commission me here!

You can see my favorite THSC artists here :)

THE BIG STICKIN’ MASTERPOST

Heyo! I’m SnickerDoodlez, I’m a she, and you can call me…basically anything that correlates with “SnickerDoodlez” at all, OR the name of my blog! Or just anything that you vibe with tbh!

Just a warning, despite the fact that you would expect a Christian such as I to be…I don’t know, strict? Uptight?- I act REALLY unhinged in my posts sometimes- just don’t let that scare ya off ;) this is a judgement free zone and despite my seemingly rabid exterior I don’t bite. I’m always up for asks, DMs, anything like that!

Chances are if you ask me for permission to do whatever with my characters / AU / etc etc the answer will be an emphatic YES

FAQ:

Q. What is Crown of Roses?

A. Crown of Roses is my Henry Stickmin AU- its story is told through comics that I post on different social media platforms! As for the synopsis…

The Aquatic Division of the Toppat Clan and most of its inhabitants have blown up in a sudden and unexplained "accident", leaving Ellie Rose- one of the few survivors- to be transferred to the airship division, home of Chief Terrence Suave himself. But Suave isn't all he seems to be, and Ellie has taken it upon herself to overthrow him- accompanied by her two new friends, Reginald and "Lefty". But Suave has eyes everywhere... and everyone has a secret to hide.

This prequel-fic comic is named an AU mostly for minor inconsistencies (The way Sven talks about the airship implies that he was part of a different division, whereas in this he's part of the airship, for example), but I hope you can enjoy it nonetheless! It is heavily inspired by a side game that never saw the light of day (though funnily enough I came up with the basic idea before hearing about this!)

Q. May I make fanart of your AU?

A. Fanart / fan content for this AU is always allowed! And you can of course ship whoever you want (within reason, which should go without saying :P), and if you draw it I’d love to see the fanart ;) even if it isn’t a canon ship! And as long as it’s sfw I’ll reblog any fanart I get! My only request is that you tag me in it ^v^

Q. How old are the characters? / It’s weird to ship Reginald and Ellie.

A. Some character ages are changed in this AU! Not to an insane degree- no child-to-adults or adult-to-minors….and most of the ages aren’t confirmed in-game anyways, so I guess it’s not definitely changing? But still, there have been some changes! For now, here’s what I’ll say for ages (they are subject to change, and are mostly to show the basic differences between character ages!)

Carol is 22. Ellie and Sven are 23. Reginald and Burt are 24. Lefty is 30. Terrence Suave is in his 50s.

And yes, Copperrose is a weird ship :) the weirdness of it was actually what inspired me to make an overly-angsty-crack AU….which eventually turned into a story that I’m proud to say seems to be beloved by quite a few people!

Q. Any disclaimers I should know for this blog / AU?

A. This blog DOES contain fictional gore, violence, suicide, alcoholism, references abuse, manipulation….etc. Viewer discretion advised! However, it does NOT contain swearing (only slightly coarse language) or sexual topics (at most there are references to an affair and a joke or two at Reginald’s expense regarding his nonexistent love life)

Q. Do you accept asks?

A. Yes! Send me asks about the story (I may give spoilers ;)), characters, headcanons, etc…) or if you send an ask aimed at any of the AU’s characters, I may respond with a drawing! In fact, PLEASE SEND ME ASKS. PLEASE. I HAVE NO LIFE. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT BEING CRINGE I SHIP COPPERROSE WHICH IS MEGA CRINGE WE DON’T JUDGE HERE.

Q. Will you feature my OC?

A. I have hosted contests in the past where the reward is to have an OC featured in either the background or as a minor character in the project! You’re always free to ask, but unless you win a contest offering it there are no guarantees! At the moment, the main people who have gotten featured characters are contest winners, friends, and my mega-supporters <3

Q. Do you accept art requests / trades?

A. I accept art requests that are specific to my AU, but otherwise I usually won’t. HOWEVER, I’ll art trade with almost anyone as long as I’m not busy! I only have a few no-nos, which are that I won’t draw any shipping (characters you ship are fine, but the art I make wouldn’t be shipping!) and I won’t draw anything political. (I try to avoid flags as well, but if your character has like…a pin with a flag on it that’s fine)

Please check the top of this post for my status!

Q. What are the characters’ sexualities?

A. The short answer is that I don’t confirm those sorts of things in my fiction- ship who you want- but for more info / the exceptions please read this post!

Q. Where can I read this story?

A. See below!

WHERE CAN I READ THIS STORY?

YouTube Dub (Discontinued)

WEBTOON

Ao3

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BIOS

Set 1

CHARACTER INFO / REFS (WIP):

LIVING (as of Chapter 1):

Terrence Suave

Sven Svensson

Carol Cross

Reginald Copperbottom

Dr. Vinschpinsilstien

Burt Curtis

Calvin Carter / “Lefty” / John Doe / “Right Hand Man”

Ellie Suave-Rose

??? & ??? Randrolf

Bach

Minty (belongs to @stan-the-man-in-simp-land )

Wilting and Ed

Wolf (belongs to @oreothefox715)

Brutus (belongs to @smoresthehalloweenqueen)

Gabriel (belongs to @icilarastudios)

DEAD

Randy Radman

T.R.N.K.

Jessica Rose-Suave

Chloe Cross

Valentine Galeforce Copperbottom & Gold Copperbottom

Sir Wilford IV