#me when i have people over and i decide it's time they left
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CW: stalking behaviour, over protective 141, fluff.
âSee her coming out now.â Ghost says over the radio. Â
âAfirm.â Soapâs voice comes back almost instantly. Ghost watches as you stumble over the pavement, pulling your jacket over your shoulders. Itâs almost 3am, and most clubs are closing. The friend you came out with left an hour ago. Now youâre alone, drunk, swaying through the streets of London on a busy Saturday night.Â
âWatch your distance Soap, no need to spook her.â Price says.
âCopy.â Soap says as he weaves his way through the crowd of clubbers spilling out of the various nightclubs and bars. He keeps his head low, making sure to keep a safe distance from you. Theyâre not going to lose sight of you though. Thatâs what Ghost is for.Â
He slips between the crowds on the other side of the street, slipping into the shadows every opportunity he gets.Â
âSheâll take the next right. Donât lose her.â Price says as you pick up your pace slightly. Heâll be driving to the next location, ready to pick you up at a moment's notice. You pull your phone out, typing while you struggle to keep your balance. Ghost lost track of how many drinks you had.Â
It was a celebration after all, your friend getting a big promotion, she took you to one of the fanciest bars in the city. Even though she left early you still seemed to be having fun, helping yourself to another drink before finally deciding to call it a night.Â
The streets off the main road are darker, quieter. Less room for error.
Suddenly you make a sharp turn, almost throwing your body down a dark alleyway. Ghostâs lost visual, he speeds up his strides, he has no idea if the alley is a dead end or not.Â
âSoap, donât lose her.â Ghost orders panic building in his chest. Thereâs no reply, now Ghost canât even see Soap. âSoap, confirm visual on the target.âÂ
Ghost jogs to the next street over, nothing but shuttered buildings and the odd person heading home.Â
âStand-by.â The seconds feel like theyâre ticking on for hours. âEyes on target, sheâs-âÂ
The line goes silent.Â
âSheâs just throwing up, seems like sheâs had a few too many.â Soap says. Ghost can almost hear the collective sigh as he slips back into the darkness waiting for you to emerge from the alley. When you do you seem even more unsteady on your feet.Â
âKeep it tight, sheâs got another main strip to cross.â Price says. Heâll be moving on already. The amount of times youâve walked this route. The amount of times theyâve practiced this route, itâs almost like a rehearsed play they could do in their sleep.Â
You move on weaving through the growing crowds of the next cluster of clubs. They seem busier than the last. You work through them quickly, Soap keeping his distance, pushing through people without a care. He has one motive, one mission; never lose sight of you.Â
As you make it to the quieter end of the street a group of lads cat-call you. You brush it off waving at them as you skip over to the next turn. Almost home.Â
âETA 10 minutes.â Ghost says hugging the shadows on the opposite side of the street.Â
âCopy,â Price says, he will be in his final position. For the next few minutes the walk goes smoothly, youâre almost home, almost safe.Â
âGot a guy on her six, just overtook me.â Soap says. Ghostâs eyes flick over in an instant.Â
âI see.â Ghost says, watching as the manâs pace slows. âHang back Soap. I got eyes.âÂ
Ghost doesnât even hear a reply, his eyes digging into the man now following a few steps behind you. You seem to notice too, quickly taking a peak over your shoulder, pulling your jacket around you tighter. Youâre almost there, almost home.Â
âWant me to grab him?â Soap asks. As he says it you pick up your speed, your body straightens up.Â
âNegative.âÂ
You turn into the front garden of the house, shutting the gate behind you. The hairs rise on the back of your neck as you fumble with the key pressing it into the lock and opening the door. The feeling of being followed suddenly fades as you make it inside, locking the door behind you.Â
âHey, welcome home.â Kyle says, sticking his head out the kitchen. You smile walking over to him and wrapping your hands around his neck.
âItâs late, you didnât have to wait up.â you say pressing your lips on his. He kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist.Â
âNeeded to make sure you got home safe.â You hear John say. You break from the kiss looking over at him sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of tea in front of him. You walk over wrapping your arms around him from behind squeezing him.Â
The smell of tea fills your nose and makes you thirsty.Â
âCuppa? Or bed?â Kyle asks, walking over, placing his hand on the small of your back. You hum looking round the kitchen.
âWhereâs Johnny and Simon?â You ask.Â
âSleeping, theyâre not used to staying up as late as you are.â John chuckles. You smile looking up at Kyle.
âBed.â You say. He smiles back at you kissing the top of your head.Â
âCâmon, Iâll give you a hand.â Kyle says pulling on your waist turning you to the stairs. John hears you giggling as you stumble up the steps to the first floor. A few seconds later the back door slowly opens, Johnny and Simon slipping in. John raises an eyebrow, quickly checking behind him to make sure youâre definitely gone.Â
âYou better hurry up, Iâm pretty sure sheâs looking to climb into your bed tonight.â John says as Simon and Johnny look at eachother. Johnny's smiles, taking his coat off and leaving his radio on the kitchen island.Â
âGet some rest cap, you look exhausted.â Johnny says, patting him on the shoulder as he passes him. John sighs looking up at Simon.Â
âAnother successful night.â John says as Simon puts his radio down.Â
âAlways.â Simon smiles.
_______
đzerođselfđcontrolđ
#call of duty#fanfic#cod#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#ghost cod#john price#kyle gaz garrick#taskforce 141#poly 141 x reader#task force 141#poly 141#tf 141 x reader#captain john price#simon ghost riley x reader#simon x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley#john price x reader#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz x reader
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Brutus 2 đŠ Chris sturniolo
"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...." PT 1
NSFW AHEAD!!! mentions of murder, stabbing, assault (not detailed!!!), alcohol, blowjobs/face fucking, facials, cum eating, rough sex, biting, cream pies, choking, switch! Chris, Matt is a perv
The police still couldnât figure out what happened on the final night of Halloween horror nights. Itâs been a month and the gruesome murders were still unsolved and left everyone scratching their head. The police took the right measures, they taped off the crime scene for weeks on end, rewatched the CCTV footage, and questioned the crew and attendees.
But they came up empty-handed.
They couldnât figure out who committed the crime or why they did it.
But she knew.
When she was questioned, the police showing up at her door with her discarded tweed purse, she lied and said she didnât see anything. Claimed she barely remembers that night due to the alcohol she consumed on the premises.
She knew it was wrong to lie to authority, to take away the possibility of a grieving family to finally have peace and to know the killer is behind bars. She knew if anyone found out what she did they would call her insane and probably throw her six feet under a jail - She didnât want that.
She was lying to cover her own ass and the nameless killers, and sheâd do it again in a heartbeat.
Especially if it meant they would continue watching her.
It was only a couple of days after that night when she felt as if she was being watched. She had just gotten out of the shower and walked into her bedroom to put on her pajamas when she noticed the clothes were on the floor.
That isn't where she left them.
She vividly remembered placing them neatly at the foot of her bed, folded and ready to throw on. Now they were thrown onto the floor in a mess, and her panties were missing.
Fear should have settled into her body, but instead, she proceeded to get dressed right in front of the open window.
With that being said, she went about her life as if nothing happened, as if she wasn't being stalked by two psychopaths.
Her routine never changed.
Weeks had gone by, minutes, hours - two months to be exact. She had given up the little bit of hope that those two would make an appearance. Honestly, she had forgotten about them until a Christmas party had gone wrong.
Her friends had forced her to attend, shoving her into a powder blue satin dress and a pair of silver heels to match. soon, she was at the party, standing in the corner with a frown on her face.
She wasn't having a good time. Her friends had ditched her as soon as they made it to the club, this guy who was completely wasted wouldn't leave her alone, and she was hot.
Deciding that she was over it and needed some air, she found her friends and told them she was leaving. She walked away, ignoring their drunken protests, and pulled out her phone, attempting to order an Uber.
It seemed like she didn't have any luck, the cellular device having no type of signal. With a huff she begins walking down the street, not noticing the two people following her.
"This is so stupid! This is the last time I let them drag me to a dumb party an-" A small scream escapes her mouth as she's pushed into an alley, her phone falling from her hands. Her body collides with a trash can, preventing her from falling into the muddy puddles of water from the melted snow.
She's soon shoved against the wall, the streetlamps casting a shadow over her attacker's face. She didn't need lights to know who the person was, the rancid smell of alcohol was enough.
It was the same man from the party, he had followed her out.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?! Get off of me!" She shouts in annoyance, trying to push him off. It was odd, the way she was completely sober and had better coordination should have given her the strength to push him away. But to no avail, he proceeded to force himself upon her, slurring his words in the process.
Just as his hand goes up her dress, he's yanked away and tackled to the ground, her savior immediately throwing punches.
She stays frozen against the wall, too shocked to even register what's happening.
A glimmer of light snaps her back into reality.
She watches as her savior raises his arm, a knife in hand.
She watches as the blade is plunged into her attacker's chest, his screams slowly drowning out as he chokes on his own blood. She watches her savior continuously bring the knife down, not stopping until he's satisfied.
His actions begin to slow, his breathing heavy as he slumps back, staring at the lifeless body underneath him.
She takes a hesitant step forward, freezing when her savior turns to her.
She already knew, but the mask adorning his face confirmed it.
Her savior was the same man from that night, the same masked man who was ready to kill her before being scared away by his partner in crime.
His wild and deranged eyes soften as they connect with hers, his breathing calming down.
They say nothing, the only sound being heard is the flurries of snow rushing past them.
She slowly approaches, holding her hand out before speaking softly, "Come on, let's go."
He looks down at her hand before standing up, towering over her. He points towards her discarded phone, his silence-speaking words. She nods and rushes over to her phone, bending down to grab it. She huffs seeing the cracked screen, cursing out the dead man in her head. Just as she begins to wipe the phone off, she hears a loud bang.
She whips around and sees both the masked savior and the dead body gone, her brows slowly creasing.
Where did they go? How did they disappear so quick?
Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand landing on her shoulder. She jumps in surprise and turns around to see the masked savior in front of her.
"Jesus Christ, " she covers her chest as her heart begins to beat quickly. She swears she heard him snicker softly, but before she could question him, he wrapped his hand around her arm and dragged her down the street.
In reality, she knows she should be scared and questioning him, but she stays silent, allowing him to guide her to wherever they are going. They soon arrive in front of a beat-up pickup truck, parts of the car rusting as snow sits in the bed.
He opens the passenger door and looks at her expectantly. She peers inside the truck, noticing the mess inside. The cans of Pepsi discarded on the floor, the wrappers from candy, the smell of cigarettes, and most importantly,
The small bloodstains on the seats.
She looks back at him, noticing the soft look in his eyes.
"You want me to get in?"
He nods, still refusing to speak.
"Are you taking me home?"
He nods once more.
"Do you know where I live?"
He tenses, the grip he has on her arm tightening. It's almost as if he's scared, scared of being caught for stalking. Scared she's going to scream, run away, reject him.
She snickers softly seeing the fear in his eyes, it's a bit ironic.
She says nothing, simply climbing into the truck and buckling herself in.
"Come on, I miss my bed."
With that, he closes the door and climbs into the car himself, quickly starting the engine and driving off. She watches silently as he drives down familiar streets, having driven down them herself whenever she's on her way home.
The car ride was filled with silence, it wasn't tense if anything, it was calming, the both of them relaxed.
They soon arrive and he kills the engine, staring straight ahead out the window. She turns to him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face behind the mask.
"Thank you for helping me," she says softly. He gives a curt nod, his hands still placed on the wheel.
"Did you want to come in?" His head whips to her, his eyes holding confusion. She smirks, enjoying the hesitancy and confusion in his eyes.
" Come on, you've been inside anyway. Might as well come in with an invitation this time."
He huffs behind the mask but follows her actions in unbuckling the seat belt and climbing out of the car.
They walk inside the house, the girl kicking off the annoying heels and throwing her keys in the bowl on the stand. She walks to her bedroom, smiling to herself as she hears his sluggish footsteps behind her. She throws herself onto her bed, flipping onto her back and propping herself up with her elbows.
She looks him up and down curiously, attempting to familiarize herself with him again.
"How come you wear a mask?"
Like always, he says nothing, refusing to even glance in her direction. She pushes herself off the bed and approaches him, cornering him. No words are spoken between the two as she presses herself against him, his breathing speeding up. With a slow and steady hand, she trails it up his arm, her fingers soon fanning out against his chest.
She goes to touch the edge of the mask, but she's stopped by his hand firmly grasping her wrist.
He looks scared.
Despite the tight grip he has on her, she continues with her actions. Her fingers grip the edge of the mask, slowly pulling it off of his face.
He quickly turns his head, his hair falling in front of his face. She gently turns him back towards her, their eyes connecting as her fingers dance across the scar on his cheek.
"O-one hun-hundred and fif-fifteen times...."
A shocked expression makes its way onto her face. He spoke, he finally spoke, and the first thing he decided to say was a number.
"W-what?" She questions in confusion, raking her brain for what the number could mean.
"Th-the man....I sta-stabbed him one hun-dred and f-fifteen times."
She's shocked by the confession.
She didn't know a lot about murder, only having seen it and heard about it in movies and TV shows, but she knew it took a lot of energy and anger to stab someone that amount of times - He did it for her.
It was sick, it was twisted, and yet, it attracted her.
"Let me thank you," she mumbles, her hand leaving his face and trailing down his chest, soon finding its place over his crotch. She begins to palm him, watching his breathing grow harsh, their eyes still connected. A small whimper leaves his mouth, and she breaks out into a grin - his moans were so pretty, so soft,
Submissive.
She sinks to her knees, both of her hands working at his belt, soon throwing it to the floor. Her mouth waters as she pulls his pants down, his cock slapping his abdomen.
It was pretty, just like him.
It was long and thick, and had a bright red tip that matched his chapped lips. There was a vein running up the side that she knew would feel euphoric when sliding against her spongy walls.
He bucks his hips softly as she wraps her hand around his shaft, pulling it towards her mouth. She opens her mouth and allows a wad of spit to trickle out, landing directly on his tip. Her thumb swipes over the tip as she moves the spit around, starting to jerk him off.
His moans and whimpers are kitten-like, despite his horrific and brutal demeanor, he was like putty in her hands.
She enjoys the way his body relaxes against the door, his head thrown back and his mouth open as he pants softly. She kitten licks his tip before taking him fully in her mouth. His rough and calloused hands fly to her head, grabbing the strands of hair and forcing her to take him deeper.
She gags around him, tears forming in her eyes as she opens her mouth wider, but she keeps going. She bobs her head up and down, making sure to hum and fondle his balls in the process.
His moans and groans grow louder, and his actions become more dominant. It was like a switch was flipped in his head, his hips starting to slam against her face.
He shows no mercy as he fucks her face, his dick reaching so far down her throat and giving her no chance to breathe. Her actions of gratitude had quickly become sloppy, the mixture of spit and precum coating her chin and falling down to her chest.
There were even bubbles of the mixture forming, popping every time her nose hit his happy trail.
She manages to look up at him, her mascara tears and glossy eyes making her look so damaged yet innocent - It drives him over the edge.
He quickly pulls out of her mouth and releases all over her face, enjoying the way she gasps in shock.
It's like his body is on autopilot, nothing but excitement and adrenaline controlling his actions. His hand wraps around her throat, lifting her to her feet with ease. Their lips instantly mesh together, swapping spit as they hastily make out. She moans into the kiss as he tightens his grip on her throat, the wetness in her panties only growing. She could feel the sticky fluid in between her folds every time she clenched her thighs - She was aching for him to touch her.
He suddenly pulls away from the kiss and begins to lick his own semen off of her face, his eyes rolling back. She moaned at his erotic actions, the way his soft and spongy muscle glided over her cheek. She could smell the faint mixture of cigarettes on his breath, but she found herself not caring.
Suddenly, she's pushed away from him, her body colliding with the mattress. It all happens so quick, the way her powder blue dress is ripped into pieces, her soaked panties following.
He was like a rabid, feral dog, ready to take what he wanted and she was just as excited.
Her jaw drops and her back arches as he shoves his length inside of her, reaching to the deepest hilt. Much like his partner in crime, he stretched her out perfectly, her aching walls sucking him in and not letting him go. The bedframe bangs against the wall with each ferocious thrust, items falling off her nightstand due to the shaking.
He shoves his face into the crevice of her neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin. He proceeds with his actions, the marking of his teeth covering her whole chest along with her breasts - Blood is drawn in certain areas.
It's an overwhelming amount of pleasure, so overwhelming that she can't even keep her eyes open nor hold him. Her arms lay flat by her head, her eyes clenched shut as her mouth remains open.
Her eyes fly open when her head whips to the side, the same hand that slapped her wrapping around her throat, squeezing tightly.
He's heaving like a dog, his pants mixed with groans, making him sound like a beast.
She weakly grabbed at his wrist, trying to ease the pressure on her throat, but it was no use. She had become lightheaded from the pleasure and lack of air.
She was close to passing out, but she was also close to reaching her orgasm, it was just a matter of which one she would experience first.
"You're going to kill her, ease up on the choking."
Her blurry eyes dart to the bedroom door, a choked gurgle escaping her mouth when she sees him.
He was here, the one with the painted face. Except, his face wasn't painted, and he was watching her be fucked by his partner.
She gasped for air when he released her throat, her eyes still trained on the other one. She watches as he takes a seat at her vanity, leaning back on the chair and manspreading.
"Don't look at me, look at him. He's the one fucking you."
She does as told, her eyes connecting with the man on top of her. He had the same look in his eyes from that night when he chased after the girl trying to run away.
"Tell him how good he's making you feel, he loves the praise,"
"S-so good- Nghh. Fuck- " She could barely speak a full sentence, her speech slurred.
"That's all you can do? Come on dollface, he killed someone for you! Show him how grateful you are! He finally gets to feel you after watching me fuck you, give him the experience he deserves."
Her mind is reeling, incoherent babbles of praise falling from her lips. The more she praises him, the harder his thrust become, her sobs of pleasure getting louder.
It's not long before she felt that familiar coil in her stomach forming, ready to burst at any second - and all it took was one final thrust from the man on top of her to push her over the edge.
Her whole body shakes violently, her eyes rolling back as she feels the static rush through her body. Her ears were ringing, her vision blurry as she came down from her high.
She lays there shaking, her fingers twitching as she pants harshly. She was worn out, fucked, and tired.
Suddenly, he stands up from the vanity and slams his hand down on Chris's back, "Look at her....and I thought I wore her out." They both look down at her, trying to figure out what to do next.
Matt suddenly bends down and moves her hair out of her face, grabbing her chin softly.
"Wake up doll, your night has just started."
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#smut#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt girl#emo!matt#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine
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Bewildering
The Skreat escape pod crash landing on Earth one night caused chaos in more ways than one. Several peopleâs lives were altered forever by the events that immediately followed the ships blazing destruction. It was dark as sirens blared through the night heading towards the blaze.
I woke up by the shrieking sounds of alarms approaching. We crashed on some foreign planet after the sudden attack. My biggest fear was being captured on this planet, what if they were the ones that attacked us? What if they took me and tortured me for species secrets. I couldn't let them know about Skreats and began slithering as fast as I could through the area lined with bark lined towers.
2 figures approached in the night, but I couldn't focus on identifying features and chose to hide. Suctioning my way up a bark tower, I chose to use my observation skills to determine if they were friendly organisms or foes determined to take me in for experimentation.
"Raph I don't think we should get closer. We should go back to camp and evacuate. It looks like it could lead to a big wild fire," the shorter of the two pleaded with the bigger one.
"Alex, dude. There's no way it wasn't like a giant secret ship or something insane that caused it. Didn't you hear that crazy crash? We gotta see this thing first hand," the taller and much more statured of the two said with a boomy resonance.
The two were going towards the ship crash at a rate faster than I could slithering on this planets gravitational pull. I decided they were my way to observe the site and get there faster. I dropped my suction and aimed to fall on their bags. After detaching, I aimed to fall on the broader one since it seemed like my size would be negligible on him.
After falling onto his bag, he turned around as if he heard something behind him, but by that point I had slid into an opening on the enclosure. We Skreats are very pliable and I made my way into his bag.
The pair of earthlings made their way closer to the ships crash site but by the time they got there bright lights and tape marked off the region. Curiosity struck many trying to get a sight at the alien ship. I peaked out of the bag only to see the blaze. Thereâs no way any Skreats could have survived such a blast.
Numb. All I felt was numbness as this earthling unknowingly carried me away from the scene. Was I the last Skreat? How does one internalize the idea that youâre the last of your kind? The bag shook and then got flung onto a nearby soft surface after a loud door shut. I flew inside the bag which rocked me back to cognizance. Where am I now? I peaked out of the fabric cage I resided in and saw the taller one walking around a room.
He peered into a doorway that emanated light before pulling out a round red sphere and taking a bite.
He appeared to be preparing earthen sustenanceâŠI should become more accustomed to this if Iâm the last Skreat Iâll need to blend in with the earthlings. I left the soft seat the bag was thrown onto and slid my way closer to get a better look.
He threw things into a hot cauldron item over a flame. After a few time sectors he was done and put some of the substance into a bowl, thatâs when I lost my grip on some steam and fell into the bowl when he wasnât aware.
I hid among orange, green, and tan bits of sustenance in the hot salty broth. I stung but I couldnât risk being caught. Eventually a colder metallic platform came into the bowl and lifted me up to his front facing orifice, despite my protests I got swallowed again without his notice.
I refused to be defeated. I mustered up the energy and detoured before meeting the earthlings digestive acids and headed to his core. I guess you call it a heart.
Once there, I began inserting my tendrils and began spreading myself through his bloodstream. Itâs a large task for such a small Skreat like myself to attempt a takeover of a creature this large but I was desperate to live.
The large creature began to notice and clasped hard at his chest. But it was too late for him. Pulse pulse pulse. I could feel his heart pumping and eventually I synced up with it. We were becoming one. Itâs a skill of the Skreats but it was my first time doing it. I was scared to do it wrong or worseâŠkill the host.
I began trying to use my new lungs. A phenomenon that like sounds like gasping for air from those who normally use lungs. Eventually I calmed down and brought the heart pulsing down to a normal seeming speed. All the internal systems seemed to normalize as I calmed the body down.
Except one part of the sizable earthlingâŠ.
I used the bodyâs messaging device to take an image for further research later. Then I continued to calm the body down leading the appendage to become more restrained. But a message appeared from someone named Babe. I opened it up to see a slimmer earthling with longer hair. They appeared unclothed with a message saying âcan i come over?â I replied with my new fingers âaffirmativeâ.
I continued to try enjoying the sustenance the human made before. Wow these sensations from my new mouth were so vibrant and exhilarating. I wonder what else I can figure out. My new thick fingers fiddled with the bag I came out of nearby. An item flopped out with a bunch of cards, I picked up one with this bodies image.
Raphael James Conrad Lee. Was that his identification? That seems very long and superfluous. Must be why that other human called him Raph before.
A knock came to the door of the housing unit I was in. I approached the door and instead of investigating almost as if the host was on autopilot it turned the knob and a tiny earthling stood there in a see through top piece of clothing and a frilly bottom one. I believe this must be the opposite gender, a woman.
She lunged at me piloting the host and placed her mouth on to mine introducing her anatomy to mine. I reciprocated before she yanked my bottom clothing down. My previously hard appendage revived itself with a mind of its own as the woman placed her mouth on it.
All I saw was her eyes as she moved swiftly. One she placed her mouth on it, it felt like all I could see was colors. Oh my what is this phenomenon. Ohhhhh unhhhhhh. What are these sounds escaping my mouth. Before I knew it, the feeling became overwhelming. I felt something coming. My hosts feet previously firmly planted on the ground, curled its toes. My abdomen contracted and then a RELEASE. I opened my eyes as she wiped something. She placed her mouth on mine again and said âthanksâ. Before immediately fleeing.
What was that? What is this experience. And why does it feel so good?
I need to understand more about what this appendage does. I wonder if that tiny male human that was with âmeâ earlier might want to do the same activities with his appendages. I try to recall his identification. Cmon I knew I heard him say it. Lex, Ale, AlexâŠ.Alex? Yes.
I picked up the messaging device and snapped an image. I copied the text the woman sent me. âCome overâ. Maybe thatâs how humans that want that activity communicate it to one another.
Almost immediately the device buzzed.
âOh bro I didnât know you rolled like that too?â
What do these words mean? I donât want him to out me for acting outlandishâŠokay I can do this.
âYeah bro. So are you cuming?â
A hand with a thumbs up appeared above the message appeared? What does this mean? So much to learn about this planet. I better start learning if I want to blend in.
The door was never closed after the woman left and a one pound happened on the already opened door. Before I could approach it to see who it was. Alex was there at the door. I could see the same energy the woman had in his eyes. He slammed the door behind him and unclothed himself with haste. He also had an appendage hard like mine, but smaller. Was my body considered an alpha amongst men?
He approached with eagerness but also a tenderness, unlike the woman. I put my mouth on his like she did to me. I was about to show Alex everything Iâve learned about earthlings.
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âčHappy New Year»âââ>
âAsaba Harumasa x Fem!Reader
Warnings: slight spoilers of chap 5(nothing major) Not proofread
Category: fluff
Note:i was inspired by the new official art and wrote this I was supposed to post it last night but I fell asleep while writing,Sorry for the wait.i cannot picture the accurate spot of this pic but I saw one in game I'll post a pic of it later for reference!
âMeet me behind the cafe in lumina squareâ
This was the last text you had received from him as you left Random play after meeting with the siblings to return the movie you had rented and wishing them a happy New year in advance.
It was New year's eve and thankfully to the deputy chief you all were out and about today. No fighting hollows , No overload paperwork and some extra which asaba adds to you sneakily because he is too lazy to do them.You love him a lot but you wish sometimes he would Stop adding his paperwork on your desk. It can be a great hassle to finish them in time.
Lumina square always makes every New Year a grand one and a beautiful one to look forward to. You made your way to the metro station hurriedly taking the last train of the hour to the lumina square after talking with Nicole and the others in the cunning hares. The metro was full of people like the elderly, the people with their family, the young highschool students and the couples.
The thought of how this year went passes through your mind. The whole incident with the vision cooperation and the chase in the hollow was stressful. Although it hasn't been completely disposed of, you all can rest easy for the holidays. It was thanks to all of the background support everyone made it safely in the end.
Your thoughts came to an end as the mic on the train announced its stop , you got off the train heading out the metro station into the bustling city of New Eridu. There were lights everywhere and it was more crowded than usual, but there was still one place left to visit before you went to meet him.
Meeting the person you love on new year's eve without a gift doesn't sound right to you so here you are.Standing outside the shop while having second thoughts on what to get him. You had made up your mind to feed him some delicious sweets that are being sold around this time of year even though he likes the bitterness now and is not bothered by it.Having something sweet every once a while would definitely not harm him.
As you look around and yellowish star keychain catches your eye with a little Clover inside. There was something that attracted you to it, so without thinking further you had made the purchase and had it warped in a box.
And your next stop was The cafe.
You had made your way over to the cafe with a little pubsec bangboo to help you cross the road. You re-read his message and made your way to the back of the cafe.
There he was standing while leaning against the palisade while holding a small wrapped box in his hand, his attention over to you as he heard your footsteps coming closer.
âWell look who finally decided to grace me with their presence.Took you long enoughâ
He spoke with a gentle smile on his face as you rushed over to him.
âI am sorry! I was at the Sixth street when I got your messageâ
He chuckled at her worries about being late.
âCalm down baby, I was just teasing. No need to rush i just got in myselfâ
You could hear the crowd hushed as the first firework arched into the velvety night sky as he extended his hand holding the gift box his yellow eyes shining in the lights whispering in a soft tone.
âHappy new yearâ
Your instinct told you to go and hug him so that's what you did, wrapping your arms around his neck particularly throwing yourself over him not to worry he will always there to catch you.
âHappy new year asaba,may we be together in the next one tooâ
âDon't worry I'll live longâ He said locking his lips with yours into a kiss.
#zzz harumasa#harumasa x reader#asaba harumasa#harumasa asaba x reader#zenless zone zero#zenless zone zero x reader#zzz x reader#zzzero
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I had a really bad year in 2018. Started with a traumatic event, lead to a breakup, moving in with âfriendsâ who kicked me out the moment my ex left because they secretly hated me the entire time, spending 2 months on my longtime friend (basically sister)âs couch. We had lived together once when we were younger, it didnât end well, but she knew I had no other options and gave me a place to go.
I drove Lyft full time at this point, so I decided to just work overnights to minimize my impact on her schedule. My cats had to stay locked up in her room because her roommate was allergic. I was lucky we got to be kept together.
And people wanted to downplay how terrifying that experience was. That I had someone to crash with, so I was fine. Never mind the sheer fear of losing everything. My life locked up in a storage unit, working overnight and overtime to pull together funds to get a roof over my head in the insane COL in my area at the time.
Thankfully, I was in a position to pull myself out of it. This was before Lyft driving was such a scam. It was a game and I was good at it and I had a little luck with a roommate who helped me clear income requirements at the time.
Being unable to have your own place to really call home will affect anyone, and itâs all real and itâs all valid.
Be kind. You never know what someone has to deal with in their life.
now that we are no longer actively in the situation, we're going to write about our experience with homelessness in a new zine. we just wanted to point some things out before we release the zine, because a lot of people get confused about the definition of the state of "homelessness": most people are stuck in a rigid binary of "has a literal roof over their head" and "doesn't have a literal roof over their head."
this is a legally inaccurate definition of homelessness in the United States (where I was homeless). the legal definition of homeless in the United states is very long, as listed by the federal government on this webpage here. but i wanted to give you the most succinct, easy to digest part of this:
i have experienced a few types of homelessness recently. couch surfing is considered a form of homelessness. living in a hotel with no permanent residence is homelessness. being forced to move from place to place is homelessness. unless your housing is permanent and stable, and you are on the lease, mortgage, or own a property, you are very likely in a situation where you are considered homeless. there are many of us who dont have family to lean on, or any type of support network that could help us get a leg up. many of us haven't had those our entire lives
it's not a rigid binary. there are a lot of experiences when it comes to matters of shelter and survival. please be kinder to homeless folk. a lot more people go through this than you realize. if your coworker tells you she sleeps in her car at night, she means it and she's homeless. if your best friend tells you they sleep at work, they mean it, they're homeless. if your friend tells you they take naps on public transit to get their sleep, they mean it, they're homeless. if your friend is constantly bouncing from couch to couch to couch, they're homeless. if your uncle says he's been sleeping in a motel, he's homeless. the list goes on.
be kinder to folks struggling with housing- they're going through enough as is. support all homeless folks
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getting up to mischief
written for âformalâ and âeggnogâ | wc: 1000 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: drug use (marijuana) | tags: no upside down au, strangers to lovers, vacationing steve, coat boy eddie, smoking together
@steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas
The worst duty to pull was coat check during an event at the resort. Eddie was only really busy at the start and end of the event, with hours of absolute nothing in between.
And he wasnât allowed to leave.
The richy-riches didnât leave early most of the time, so Eddie didnât bother standing at the counter waiting around just in case. He picked a spot far from the counter and lit up once the charity function had gotten into full swing.
He smoked to the distant sounds of idle conversation and laughter, all with the background of Christmas music played by the live string instruments. If he closed his eyes, it was almost peaceful.
Except for the fact that the rest of the staff, besides him and the kitchen crew, had an early night off.
And then, of course, someone decided to barge right into the coat closet.
There wasnât much Eddie could do to hide what he was doing. Caught red-handed, with a lit joint in his hand and no way to duck into the coats without bringing attention to himself.
The guy was definitely a guest, in black dress pants and shoes, with a white-button up shirt and a fitted vest over it.
No neck or bowtie though, Eddie noted.
The guy listed his head and noticed he wasnât as alone as heâd thought.
Eddie had turned off the overhead light for some privacyâand look how well that had workedâbut the guyâs eyes still found him, or the red cherry of the joint, in the low light.
âSorry, the door wasâŠunlocked,â he apologized.
Eddie raised a brow at him. If it had been quite literally any other guest, they would have jumped on the opportunity to curse him out for not only lazing about on the job, btu acting a like a delinquent right next to their expensive coats.
The guy shifted a bit more into the light from open space over the counter, and Eddie finally recognized him.
âSteve, right?â
They hadnât spoken since that first day Eddie had taken Steve and his friendsâ coats. Heâd done it again since, quite often actually, but each time Steve only tipped for himself with that same smirk he wore before heâd initially walked away.
Eddie still had no idea what to do with it.
âCharity dinner not your scene?â he asked with a short pull of the joint.
Steve gave no hint that he was appalled by the action. Instead, he brushed his hair out of his face and answered, âItâs all people my parentsâ age. And their kids who donât want to be here, either.â
Eddie hummed in the back of his throat and exhaled smoke up toward the ceiling. When he dropped his chin, Steve was watching him, head cocked just so.
âYou partake?â
Steve let out a huff through his nose. âNot since my parents dragged me here.â
Eddie held the joint out with the tips of his fingers in invitation, his voice just off of being a lilt. âI wonât tell if you wonât.â
There wasnât much more convincing than that and Steveâs held gaze on the joint for a full two seconds.
Steve unbuttoned his vest with one hand as crossed the small room, and didnât seem to care about his nicely pressed pants when he sat straight on the carpet. He plucked the joint from Eddieâs hand as brought it to his mouth, taking a slow inhale.
Definitely not his first.
âDaring little socialite, arenât you?â
âNot really,â Steve corrected, leaning his head back to blow out the smoke. âFirst year my parents bothered to bring me along.â
Eddie left that alone, especially when Steve passed him the joint. It wasnât exactly a good time for either of their life stories. Not when getting high was so much more enticing.
But, Steve seemed a bit more on Eddieâs level than any of the other spoiled brats running around the place. MoreâŠcorruptible.
Eddie let them sit in the quiet for a moment, taking a drag and letting the warmth settle in his lungs and throat before he asked, âYou want to be a little more rebellious?â
âAnd do what? Weâre in a coat closet,â Steve said with a snide side-eye.
Eddie gave it right back, gesturing to their utter isolation from the festivities. âRight, because thereâs absolutely nothing that two young people could possibly do by themselves in the privacy of a closet.â
âOh.â
Steve ducked his head, and if Eddie didnât know better than to look, he might have thought Steve was blushing.
But they were halfway through the blunt and Eddie was loose and uncaring of the consequence, so he kept on.
Steve didnât answer straight away, staring at the carpet in front of him. Eddie took another inhale of smoke.
âYeah, alright,â Steve said finally, shifting to turn toward Eddie.
Definitely not going to stop and question why Steve was totally fine with hooking up with the help in a coat closet, Eddie stubbed out the joint on the bottom of his shoe.
And apparently Steve had been waiting for him, because as soon as his hands were free, Steve had sidled close and pressed his mouth to Eddieâs in that abrupt way of horny boys.
Eddie could taste the weed right away, and even more when Steve slid a hand onto his jaw and tilted Eddieâs head where he wanted it to be able to slip his tongue past Eddieâs mouth.
ThatâŠand something else. Something with cinnamon. And alcohol.
Eddie pulled back, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip to taste the lingering flavor from Steve.
âWhat is that?â
Steve paused, eyes unfocused from the weed.
Then, âEggnog, I think.â
Eddie frowned, and making out be damned, he asked, âWho the hell serves eggnog at a charity dinner?â
Steve ignored the question entirely, choosing instead to shove Eddie onto the floor and let Eddie lick the rest of the taste from his mouth for the rest of the party.
#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fic#steddie microfic#steddie fanfic#steddie drabble#steddie fanfiction#no upside down au#strangers to lovers#coat boy eddie
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(Angsty) WIP Weekend
Thank you to the following lovelies for tagging me in various WIP posts over the past month (you are all wonderful đ):
@ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @quinnnfabrgay-writes
@secretelephanttattoo @the-blind-assassin-12 @the-mandawhor1an
Once again, Iâm humbly offering up a snippet because Iâm still eyeball-deep in the writing stage of my (now several months late) Secret Relationship fic for the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge. It now stands at just over 57k words, but I swear I only have two more chapters to write. Happily, I have a whole 3 weeks off work over the holidays, so Iâm aiming to release it next month.
I wonât bore you with why I had to expand it again, but letâs just say angst fans will be well-fed.
In fact, since my previous WIP offerings from this fic (see here, here, and here) have mostly been smut-adjacent, Iâve decided to give you a taste of the angst for a changeâŠ
(Sorry itâs shorter than my usual snippets; itâs tough to find a decent chunk I can share without spoiling anything)
You fight for a week. Each day, he comes over, imploring you to calm down, eat something, see his point of view. He tries every tactic â soft words, hard orders, pleading eyes â but every attempt only feels like salt in a wound that will never close. Each day, you hurl back insults, curses, and even whatever objects are within reach. A glass shatters against the wall near his head. A boot catches him in the gut. You hope each impact carries a fraction of the pain heâs inflicted on you. You scream a lot. You scream until your throat is raw and you taste blood. Sometimes, your screams are molten with fury, blistering the air. Other times, they collapse into broken, keening wails, your voice trembling with the weight of all the misery you canât contain. You cry a lot. You cry until thereâs nothing left â until the tears burn instead of soothe. The memories torture you whenever your eyes close, echoes of your dreams being torn apart in a single evening. With every tear you try to blink away, your losses replay on the back of your eyelids with excruciating clarity. Your body canât handle the strain. Your hands tremble constantly, whether from exhaustion or rage, you no longer know. Your chest feels tight; every breath is an effort. Sleep offers no relief; itâs a battlefield of nightmares that leave you thrashing and gasping awake. Yet you donât stop fighting. You canât stop. Itâs the only shield against the endless void threatening to swallow you whole. Fighting is all you have left now.
The high level of angst will be balanced by an equally high level of smut, donât worry đ. But the good stuff needs to be earned.
As usual, if youâd like me to tag you when I release the chapters, please raise your hand or communicate your wish however you see fit. You can also join my tag list if you like.
Apparently, Tumblr is now limiting the number of links per post, which includes tags đĄ. Since my WIP posts arenât particularly frequent, I always try to tag as many people as possible, so I guess Iâll just put them in a reblogâŠ
#wip weekend#wip whatever#roll a trope challenge#star wars#the mandalorian#din djarin#mando#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#mando x reader#the mandalorian x you#din djarin x you#mando x you#the mandalorian smut#din djarin smut#mando smut#star wars fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin fanfiction#mando fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#the mandolarian#the mandolorian#mandalorian#din dijarin x reader#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x f!reader#din djarin fanfic#din djarin fic
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Hello! I was wondering if you'd quite something based on the bat boys (or just Jason) reaction to realizing they liked having a normal life?
Like they go to visit the readers' family for Xmas, but their family left without letting them know, so they had the whole house to themselves, so they got to play house. It was in a whole other state, so no needing to be vigilantes. Just them with their s/o getting ready for Christmas, being shown around and just living a normal life for a few weeks.
A/N: Hope you don't mind me not writing about Duke and Damian since they're both minors so legally speaking they can't really travel out-of-state alone. Plus to be real, I highly doubt Batman would want to leave Damian unsupervised considering what happens when he's alone đ
Dick:
His whole life he was anything but normal, being raised in a circus and now, fighting crimes 24/7. Excitement, action, danger, and adventures are what defines him and how he had always dreamt of how his life would go on. But here he is, tasting ânormalâ for the first time in his life by spending the holiday with you in the house you were raised in. Snowball fights and building snowmen delays the process of clearing the snow. Not to forget the snow angels that are made once he playfully tackles you down into the snow after you manage to get more on him than yourself. Putting up the lights and decoration both inside and outside of the house was more fun than the times he helped out at the Wayne manor, while finding out shopping for anything during the holiday season is a battle of its own. Adding that to the daily routine thatâs usually gone through on his days off every day, itâs⊠quiet and peaceful. He doesnât wake up to sirens or violence. Heâs not worried about another mission, instead figuring out how heâll get your present under the tree without getting caught. You greeting him at the door, placing a kiss on his cheeks that are slightly bitten from frost when itâs decided heâs moving the snow on his own makes him so fuzzy, he starts calling you honey over babe. The most mind boggling about this? He doesn't mind it. Itâs hard to accept that he actually likes ânormalâ. Heâs confused over liking a concept thatâs completely foreign to him and with his personality, he wonât last long with living with ânormalâ forever. The happy couple/marriage vibe though? Heâs on board and digs it, one-hundred percent. Especially in a house filled with childhood memories, itâs giving him ideas and changing what he perhaps would want in the future in ways he wouldnât think of back then.
Jason:
Considering his childhood and how he went through the whole reincarnation cycle of dying and then reviving, itâs a desire he had as a kid but gave up right away. He didnât even fathom that a day would come where he would experience what it would be like to be normal. Walking around and staying in the typical home most average people live in made him tense the first three days, even more so knowing this was where you lived since a child. Moving snow with you becomes his favorite pastime, where youâd distract from getting the job done and have him chase after you from the snowball that hits his back. Or bringing out steaming hot chocolate so his nose and hands would stop feeling as if theyâre ready to fall off from the cold after cleaning up and helping you build a snow fort of all things. His hands are frequently on your waist from holding you up to string the lights and hang the decorations after you frown from his âaestheticâ way of placing them, pushing him to move aside so you could show how a real pro does it. Itâs also his first time struggling to find time to get a present behind your back from being with you all the time. Eating meals together, taking walks together around the neighborhood and city, acting as bodyguard during grocery and Christmas shopping, spending time together as a couple in general in a house thatâs warm, cozy, and peaceful as Jason Todd is a first. Not as Robin once dead and revived or Red Hood, the violent outlaw. Itâs a wish once buried in his heart on top of another where heâs spending time with you that comes true before the holiday. Heâs emotional from being so happy, he doesnât think of anything else other than wanting to live like this for the rest of his life.
Tim:
Contrary to the stereotypes depicted by the media, rich kids donât spend time with their family; it's usually spent with their nanny as their parents leave them for long periods of time in a house too large for two people. Sure over the years he has healed with his friends and a new family. But it feels like a dream come true with you. Heâs laughing and enjoying the soft fluffiness of white that gets all over him, freezing his nose and hands when he tries to clear the snow. He gets into it with you over how the lights and decorations should be placed inside and outside the house when you mentioned you want to outdo your neighbors, a set of blueprints and sketches drawn while debating that rainbow lights were better than the flickering, white ones. To much of his chagrin, heâs fumbling with all the things you toss at him when he helps you shop, him being in charge of the shopping cart as he stays in-line as you grab and bring back whatâs needed in the store. Not that heâs complaining, his face suddenly tinted in red when you come back and slip your hand between his hand and the handle during the wait for the next opened cashier. Surprisingly enough, he doesnât struggle with getting you a Christmas present and placing it under the tree. He had been keeping tabs since the day after Valentineâs Day on the things youâve been looking at while relying on your habits he memorized to time things perfectly. Similar to Jason, he, too, wanted to live normally like any other person. Him getting to do that by prepping for the holiday with you heals the child in him, making him content and wishing the time the two of you currently have lasts forever.
#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#nightwing#nightwing x reader#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#tim drake#red robin dc#red robin x reader
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Interventions with the Best of Intentions, pt. 1
[A/N] Hi all! This is sort of my first venture into long-form writing. I was inspired by a brief exchange with @biggerbagingos, so I'm sure he and anyone who follows him already knows where this is headed. Also, heads up, this is gonna deal with some extreme sizes, much bigger than what I usually write about. This is part one of probably three, maybe four if I decide to pad things out. No hard timeline but I hope this gets people excited for the future! Without any further ado...
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The routine was one that Tiffanyâs friends now found to be all too familiar. When she got upset, the first thing she did was gather up her long, red hair and throw it over her shoulder. This part was expected take a few seconds as her voluminous hair could be a bit unruly and often fall in front of her pale, freckled face. Once it was done, she took a deep breath, as deep as she possibly could. A second hung in the air, a brief, momentary pause, just holding the breath inside her. Then, she shoved her face into the deep crevice, the ravine, the canyon that was her cleavage and let out a long, muffled scream. It was amusing, though they wouldnât tell her so, to watch her heave her breasts from beneath far enough to put her head between them, but in this instance, the table she sat at provided a perfect ledge on which to rest her breasts, sparing her arms the herculean lift.
This scream was particularly deep, Valerie silently noted while sipping her bubble tea, sitting across from her buxom friend. The table was on the far edge of a small strip mall, far away from any prying eyes and with virtually no chance of anyone eavesdropping. Between the autumn air and the tea, a slight chill was creeping in. For a moment, Valerie wished she hadnât cut her dark hair so short, feeling goosebumps spread over her neck. She drew her denim jacket tighter around her slender shoulders, glancing down at her watch. Having known Tiffany since before her gargantuan breasts had even thought about beginning to grow, she knew she could count the number of lung refills like counting the rings of a tree to figure out just how frustrated her friend was. By the time Tiffany finally emerged from her own bosom, her throat burned. Valerie took another sip of her drink, reaching across the table to grab Tiffanyâs drink and offer it to her, pushing the straw against Tiffanyâs lips.
âJeez, Tiff. A four? You didnât even scream that much when you got your homecoming dress.â
Tiffany groaned, pounding her fist against the table, sending a ripple through her bust. She snatched the cup from Valerieâs hand and took a big, angry swig, as angry as one can be when drinking a Cookies ânâ Cream milkshake. âThat was different.â Though the drink helped, screaming had left her voice hoarse. She lifted her head just far enough to put her arms under her chin, her breasts making for a soft pillow underneath. âAt least then I had someone I could yell at instead of just the vague idea of âmy hormonesâ or âmy geneticsâ. And, in fairness to her, the seamstress did apologize. I canât really blame her for not believing the measurements I sent in.â Tiffany blew a puff of air upward, pushing a few strands of her hair out of her face. âThis is justâŠâ Tiffany took another deep breath, as if she was about to aim for a five, only to let it out in a defeated sigh.  âMy fucking tits are already such a hassle, Val. I really donât know if I can handle them getting much bigger. Iâm gonna have to⊠I donât know⊠carry them around in a wheelbarrow or something.â
Valerie let out a quick, wry chuckle. âWell, Iâm sure you could find no shortage of guys and probably a good number of girls who would help push!â
Despite herself, Tiffanyâs lips curled into a subtle smile. âIâm serious, Val! I really thought I was done growing and now⊠another growth spurt? My doctor told me I could literally double in size. I canât even imagine that!â She fished one of her hands out from under her chin and lightly ran it over the upper swell of one of her tits, her oversized hoodie making them seem even softer.
âIâm already past conventional bra sizes, like, significantly. My boobs were big enough to get me out of running in gym class! Some girls are like âOoh, look at me, I can almost fit half a beer bottle between my boobiesâ but I could fucking bury a Stanley tumbler with room left over for another. Â For all of this-â She smacked the side of her tit, the impact rippling across her bust like a waterbed. âto double? Iâd struggle to reach my own nipples, Val! I already kinda do! Fuck, Iâd be at least fifty percent tit. Maybe closer to seventy-five. It doesnât help matters that Iâm more suited to be the basketball than to play it.â No one in her family was particularly tall, but the growth and weight of Tiffanyâs breasts had kept her at a notably short stature, only reaching five feet when standing on her tiptoes, a dangerous feat considering how front-heavy she was. Her backside had a pleasant curve to it as well, but it was completely overshadowed by the gargantuan bust sloshing in front of her.
Valerie reached out and put her hand on her friendâs elbow, trying her best to be comforting. âHey, your body is going to do what itâs going to do. No sense in worrying too much. Youâll roll with the punches and, no matter what, youâve got Olâ Val sticking by your side.â Tiffany smiled at the nickname, ironic considering that Valerie was exactly one month younger.
Another sigh rolled out between Tiffanyâs lips. âYeah, yeah, youâre right! Youâre right. Iâm still me. Iâm more than just my boobs. No matter how big they get, Iâm still Tiffany.â
Valerieâs grin took on a mischievous undertone, her brown eyes shining, as she quickly moved around to the other side of the table. She nudged her friend with her elbow, dropping her voice to a low whisper. âAnd I know that having a pair of big, soft tits isnât all bad, is it?â Valerie and Tiffany were very close and there were few secrets between the two. Valerie pressed her finger deep into the soft, accepting side of Tiffanyâs breast. The busty girl yelped in shock, only getting one or two syllables into asking what Valerie thought she was doing before the words were interrupted by a keening whimper. Blush surged into Tiffanyâs cheeks and she once again returned her face to her cleavage, this time in embarrassment and arousal rather than frustration. She made a half-hearted attempt to push Valerie away, but the way her friend wiggled her finger, playing with her breast, made it hard to think. âHnnngg⊠V-val⊠Not hereâŠâ
An impish giggle rose from Valerie, only stopping to lean in and give her friend a quick peck on the cheek. âJust wanted to remind you that there are some upsides to these things. Remember that one night when we got drunk and you were fucking begging me so I just kept sucking and sucking and sucking and-â
Tiffany shot upright, nearly dragging her tits off the table. Her cheeks ached with blush, close to bruising. âVALERIE!â It was a barely intelligible squeak, but it got the point across, Valerie breaking into laughter. She draped her arm over her friendâs back, rubbing her shoulders.
âEasy, baby. Relax. Iâm just teasing. We should probably head over to the book store before it gets too late, yeah? Iâve been waiting weeks for them to get more of the next book in the Amethyst cycle.â
The words went in one of Tiffanyâs ears and out of the other without touching anything in between. The busty girl could barely concentrate. All she could think about was how it would feel to have her breasts sucked while being twice as big. She might actually lose her mind. Beneath her sweatshirt, her nipples stiffened and quivered. She swallowed. âH-huh? Oh, yeah, letâs uh⊠letâs get out of here.â She winced as she stood, feeling her breasts slide along the table, bracing herself for the impact when they finally slipped off the edge and slapped into her torso. The two of them took a few steps towards Valerieâs car (The Val-mobile, as she called it) only for Tiffany to stop, reaching out for her friendâs sleeve. âHey, uh, you meant what you said, right? About sticking with me no matter how big I get?â
Valerie smiled bright, leaning over to kiss the top of her friendâs head. Their developments had led them in very different directions; Tiffany grew outward while Valerie grew upward, nearly a foot taller than her friend and a modest handful on her chest, though anyone would look small next to Tiffany. âOf course, cutie. I love you. Always have. Iâm with you no matter how big you get.â
A hint of panic crept into Tiffanyâs voice. âBut⊠But what if they donât stop? And Iâm just a fucking gross titty monster and I canât even lift them anymore and I take up an entire room with just one of my boobs and-â
Valerieâs warm hands settled on Tiffanyâs cheeks, tilting her up to look at her taller, slender friend. âNo. Matter. How. Big. Okay? I mean it. Youâre my best friend and thatâs never, ever going to change.â
Tiffany nodded, letting her eyes close while she took a deep breath to center herself. When she let it out, she looked back up at Valerie. There was silence for a moment, a strange tension between them. Tiffany opened her mouth only to close it again. On her second attempt, she got it.
âM-more like breast friend, am I right?â
Valerie blinked before busting out in laughter. âYouâre such a goofball, Jesus. See? Room-filling boobs arenât going to take away that razor wit. Now, can we go already? I have to know what Iskandar and Alexan will do when they get to Drosenia. I swear to god, if thereâs only one bed at that inn, I am going to flip.â
Now it was Tiffanyâs turn to laugh. âOnly you, Val. Only you.â The two chatted about the series and the improbably tense situations the characters found themselves in as they trudged to the car. No matter how many times she did it, Tiffany had yet to find a way to climb into the passenger seat gracefully, flopping down into the seat and letting her bust wobble on her chest. She was the only one who ever rode in that seat, so Valerie just left the seatbelt extender in place, letting Tiffany buckle it over her vast expanse of tit. She needed the extender even with it slightly inside her cleavage. The sensitivity of her bust reared its head once again as the engine turned over, sending vibrations through her body. As Valerie began to pull out of the parking spot, Tiffany mumbled a slightly embarrassed thanks for her friendâs care and understanding. Valerie didnât need to reply, simply patting her friendâs thigh as the two hit the road.
The window was cool against Tiffanyâs cheek as she stared wistfully out of it. She was still a bit apprehensive about growing â How could she not? â But at least, now, she felt a bit more secure in what the future could hold. As long as she had Valerie, someone to support her and care for her, nothing else mattered. And who knows? Maybe Val was right. Maybe there could be upsides to being so big.
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left my message!
pairing: lewis hamilton x reader
summary: youâve heard about the legend but youâre not quite prepared to meet him in real life.
a/n: first part is like a smau companion i guess? but this is the actual interaction which makes the twt posts make more sense!!Â
part one / two
ââ âą ă»âžâž
two days ago
you still canât believe it. the paddock pass is smooth under your hands, so smooth it might just slip out and away. youâve never been so close before, despite having watched many of the races on a grainy screen or far, far up into the grandstands. it didnât make sense, really. when you were younger, your mother disapproved of flouncing around just to go to a racetrackâshe certainly wouldnât accompany you, with the engines roaring past, when your music on 70% volume was already deafening to her. but now, early decisions had come out, very much in your favor. mother was pleased, and that left you to go wherever you wished over easter.
so youâre here, standing in the ferrari paddock. itâs a gift on both guanyu and your brotherâs part, flying you out at last minuteâs notice when charlesâs surgery was confirmed. an extremely generous gift youâre not sure you can repay anytime soon. it makes you feel a bit guilty, until you see how happy both of them are to see you. with college applications, you havenât had much time to facetime your brotherâhe was overseas workingâand the same went for guanyu. late family reunion, you decide.Â
lando walks pass the ferrari garage and waves at you. it turned out you had rooms on the same floor after bumping into each other in the elevator. it wasnât the first time youâd met him: youâd been present at a few of his karting competitions when you were younger. you werenât âfriends,â youâd argue, but youâd talked enough to be good acquaintances. he was also a familiar face in the uk. that is, before he moved to monaco.Â
you grin at lando and turn back to guanyu, inside the garage. heâs trembling, even though his smile is wide and back is straight. charles has done well this season, and lewis is in the other seat. of course he would be nervous. you still remember how he sobbed when sauber released the news. formula one was the pinnacle of motorsports. being there was an achievement in itself, anyone knew. but when you were constantly outperformed by other drivers in other cars, it was hard to keep track of the fact.
you place a hand on his arm. âhey, you good?â
âyeah, iâm fine.â he reaches out for a one-handed hug. âglad to see you here. just a bit different from last year.â
âhey, come on. this is for everyone here for you. seeing you race is enough.â
zhou massages his temple. âwhat if itâs not? i donât want to disappoint them again.â
âyou wonât. your practice times are great! and if people think they do, they should try driving themselves.â you squeeze his hand. âwhereâs my brother? let him talk some sense into you.â
to that, he laughs. âoh, he did. told me that i should be happy i get the opportunity to drive and i think heâs right.â
you wince. sounds a bit harsh, but you know your brother means well.
âyeah, he usually is. probably a bit salty that heâs not a driver, too. but gâluck out there, okay? donât crash.â
âiâll try.âÂ
ââ âą ă»âžâž
one day ago
once the sprint is over, you can tell a weight has been lifted off his back. fourth is great. fourth is amazing. max leads in first, lewis in second, lando in third, and guanyu in fourth. itâs not a shabby place in a lineup like that. points have been scored for ferrari and everyone is all smiles when they come to congratulate him.
lewis pats him on the back. âgood to see you out there, zhou.â
âthanks. nice work today.â his data analyst taps him on the shoulder and guanyu is being led away. he waves goodbye at you.
the brit turns to you and offers a hand. âhamilton, lewis hamilton. i donât think iâve seen you around before.â
lewis! hamilton! is shaking your hand! meeting lando is less crazy because youâve seen mini him stumbling off the track. but this is seven-time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. his braids are sleek and heâs perfectly polished: glowing, even. it should be illegal to stand around in a half-zipped race suit.
you shake his hand, making sure your grip is strong because your father said thatâs the way to make an impression. âiâm yn. iâm guanyuâs friend.â
âoh, i see. you watch racing, much? i suppose you do.â
âyeah. he got me into it and i never stopped.â
lewis gives you a coy smile. âtell me, whoâs your favorite driver?â he leans against one of the floating tables.
âi hate to break it to you, but itâs max.âÂ
his eyes widen dramatically. he teases, âoh dear, weâre starting off on the wrong foot already.â
âif it makes you feel any better, i meant current driver.â
âokay, okay. no restrictions. favorite driver of all time?â
âkimi.âÂ
he raises a thoughtful eyebrow. âyou seem to have a type.â
âso whoâs yours?â and you want to hit yourself right there because you just asked lewis hamilton who his favorite driver is. stupid, stupid, stupid. itâs probably senna. heâs too polite to say himself and you think youâve heard that somewhere before.
âsenna.â
bingo! quite the genius, you are. itâs hard to think around him, so thatâs practically twice the achievement.
lewis sees your smile and asks, âwhy, do i have something on my face?â
âoh, no. i was thinking.â
â...about? nevermind, i wonât pry. tell me, yn, what else do you like to do?â
how conversational. if he does this one more time you might be convinced youâre friends. heâs probably just bored.Â
âsorry, excuse me?â you see a couple of fans outside the garage. the pit lane tour guide is surprised to see lewis still there. âcould we get a few photos, please?â
lewis turns to you, surprisingly apologetic. âsee you around?â
âalright.â
ââ âą ă»âžâž
(a/n: 1st of the convo is post-meeting lewis & 2nd part is post-gp)
#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#smau#formula one#f1 x you#lewis hamilton x you#zhou guanyu#f1#f1 smau#oikarma áŻáĄŁđ©
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Woah. That phrase is nostalgic of school. Fucking stationary. Pencil case.
Every surface is fucking smooth. and flat. The tables the floors the board the field the court the path the brains.
The girls like steaming compost heaps inside uniform. Sterile, kept from dirt and dust, yet somehow gross. Warm and fixed in place behind a desk like the zits and pustules on their face. Insecure eyes darting side to side and only finding each other, other girls to judge. Like some type of layer in hell.
Loosing their shit over 'guys' who are all mummy's boys at that age. Yelling over their egos, mum flavoured cries for approval. Repeating mum's script. The asian one talking about a 'gud future' it was just what mum said. The stickler worried about safety was just mum's script. Literal fucking babies. With egos. Because those are the two things that mums make. Babies and egos. It's like full circle for the girls looking because nothing less conceited would have sufficed.
There's no patriarchy. Guys stop moving without egos. Without someone to hype them up. If guys want to function without girls, they will invent women amongst themselves to hype them up. If you want dad to keep going to work and mum does a shit job of hyping him up, you better find a way fast. Either you become like a girl and hype or you get used to making your own home. If she insists that you just can't do that and you can't say no because you're still a mommy's boy and her script overrides yours. Then I hope you like lacey stuff. There was one more thing. Oh, this is when I knew it was him. Women created guys like this because of the way they are with eachother. The way they compete and stuff but always indirectly, through a middle thing. That's why they made men.
This is brother's air. Before he leaves for work is when he has the most to give and he only gives when he sees something in my messages. Doesn't make it less true. I mean i don't know if it is fully correct. I'm like a windchime at this point. Anyone you put me near, I'll make a noise to their presence, to their movements, to the air they displace. Guys usually make writing happen though. Girls will make something actually happen.
If I really wanted I can take with me this feeling about -not being a guy's hype prop by releasing my concern for finances and a place to sleep, for stability. Not stability itself but my concern over it.
She wanted me to replace him in her life, to earn for her in his place and she'd go gut whatever he'd had left without holding back. Mistakes me for him often like it already happened in her mind. Like there was no need to ask. She put me between them when I was little and said I should defend when they fought. I think she also liked cucking when they were good. I think she's a bit gay the way she talks about little girls and women's thighs. I don't know if that means I got it from her, like passed down or if I reacted to how gross she was being. Anyway. All that to say that the next time I'll say 'okay burn the house down if you like' when she tries to make herself your problem (her moods and emotions are hers) or her lifestyle your fault (her lack of lasting friendships does not make you a mandatory friend forever, you're no different to all the other people who wouldn't want to stay) or insists her decisons are your decisons (all those times you say something and get ignored, it wasn't hard to hear what you said, she didn't forget that quick. It's up to you to decide how much respect you want) but then that's no way to practice having a house and any fight or playing up will get a crowd. It's hard to affirm without resorting to disrespect when someone is actually dismisive and disrespectful. I can see how their conversations always went the same. She got what she gave. Then that carries over into other conversations. Or you just feel a bit sad and resentful at real kindess, and i've seen it on my father's face. Like he's thinking oh I have to get used to this now? Where were you this whole time. You're only temporary, it's her shit that I'm used to, we'll be back in the shit and you'll be gone, so just be gone early as a favor. It's not just her. He attracted her from a lifetime of the same shits. It made him more than rough around the edges as a consequence and I've gone through all that's like and I wouldn't want to repeat what he felt or how he became. Input output. Change his input, don't have the same shit he had.
All this sympathy towards him. Told you it was the brother. He misunderstands that's why he thinks I need to think this stuff. I need these people to take back their issues. Him you can't tell him anything other than you're hurt, you need to work on yourself. You're allowed to tell someone enough and they should leave. You don't need a million and one ways to push people away. Some are really hurtful. She was at fault when you said enough and she just smirked that you reacted and looked a fool infront of your house. Now for her, you really can't tell her anything. That's why it's taken so long to peel her off. But being here is because he failed me. I went to him, to be my lifeline IF I needed the van sold. End of story. He betrayed himself so often that he just wanted someone else to take the shit. That's why he called her seconds after he hung up and promised me he wouldn't. That's not exactly why though. There's something severly damaged about him from that last disrespect. She went to his last respectable friendship source, the guy she couldn't dis, undisputed source of respectability amongst both of them and the guy called and shamed him. It's like how the guy at the end of 1984 broke. He will just do anything after that. To appease his opressor. My father had a right to a boundary that she could not cross. He is helping by staying away. He is preventing himself from further betrayal. He is of no use to either of us in this fight. Let me finish and if I betray myself it won't be his influence. Don't fuck bears next time pa pap.
Think of leaving and that's how I know brother's air is wrapping up. It always shows up at the end as what he wants. So stressed to see the car parked, room taken up. Doesn't make it the wrong decision necessarily. Im pretty sure i could sneak guys around in the morning. To help line her up. So they want the same thing. I couldn't get him to line up with her though. I can ask for more stuff, room back, more space in the garden, hang around the house a lot. Though I still think he'd stay and get more sabotagey. It's what he's practiced. More foreign for him to get a place. More familiar to ruin something that's around. I get nothing from a fight. I don't want to have the house, I don't like to be here all the time. I can visualise him moving out. Like he does. But again, for what? I would gladly exchange the feelings for them for something good towards myself. It's just that the best way to do that is not clear cut. Everyone did the best they could with what they had. You can't choose them. If however she chose you to be her backup financial plan that's something but not at all uncommon. If she fought hard to hold you back so she wouldn't be alone then that is also not unheard of in love.
It's about learning about these behaviours from others and knowing better and also, unfortunately, it's about undoing hangups they might have caused. If they weren't undoable, many unfortunate consequences are permanent. It becomes a question of acceptance and if you accept will it also define your direction? Will you do something with it, every. single. day.
Early bird gets the moon
Lake Elkhorn, Maryland.
đ·: @zalman_waihaus
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Game Of Love - Hwang Hyunjin SMAU
Chapter 11
Previous | Next
Masterlist
Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, Hyunjin loses his temper (wow what a surprise !!)
A/N: I love seeing you all write your conspiracies in the comments, it makes me to happy to see ppl intrigued in my story đ Written below the screenshots !!
You walked into your first shift feeling somewhat excited. Art had been one of your favorite hobbies for the longest. But as you endured your hardships during high-school, it was something that didnât seem to bring light into your life anymore. Painting had been the one thing you missed the most, though. The way the bristles of the brush glided against the canvas was a long gone, yet euphoric feeling. Something about watching the trail of paint that followed the brush was relaxing. It was a stress reliever for you, and something that youâd wish to experience again. Preferably soon. On top of that, youâd not always been independent. Throughout your life, as your parents grew more and more absent, that was the time you had to learn how to live on your own. Not only did it cause more stress, but it left no time for your stress relieving hobby. Although it wasnât a young age, it was still challenging as you were previously left to rely on people for your whole life. Nowadays, being independent was something you still struggled with, but when you did it you could feel a small flame ignite inside you. Another feeling that you missed often, but enjoyed. Hopefully, this job could help fuel that.
As your shift continued, you couldnât help but feel excited. Not only because you were back in a place that used to bring you so much happiness, but also because of Seungmin. Thinking back to his messages left your heart to flutter. The clock grew nearer and nearer, and you couldnât help but eagerly wait for 4:00 P.M. to hit. Except, all that excitement crashed down the moment the door opened. You looked up as the bell chimed to see none other than Hwang Hyunjin. A feeling of uneasiness and slight anxiety immediately sparked inside of you. This was something that several people had warned you about. Hell, you shouldâve expected it yourself. Both yours and Hyunjinâs passion for art was something that was strong, it was something you shared. Well, used to share.. Itâs not like you doubted Jeonginâs words, you had expected to run into him. But not this soon, you hadnât mentally prepared yourself for this yet.
You could feel your chest tighten as your eyes scanned his figure, he hadnât noticed you yet. Was it too late to book it out the back? But then youâd be risking your job. Your job that you desperately needed. With a deep breath, you spoke and decided to treat him like any other customer. âCan I help you find anything.â Hyunjinâs moves came to a sudden hault. You couldâve swore you saw his grip tighten around nothing, his knuckles growing white. His eyes made contact with yours. There was something about his gaze, his piercing gaze that shot chills down your spine. The fake smile you had plastered on didnât last long. It soon faded as you fidgeted with the keychain that dangled from your belt loop behind the counter. Your body was now filled with anxiety. Thankfully, the door opening tore both of your eyes away from each other. Your eyes trail back to the door where Felix had just followed in. âThank god.â was all you could think.
âOh hey Y/N!â The blonde greeted you, earning a glare from the taller male that stood next to him. However, it had gone ignored. With a subtle swallow, you greeted back. âHey Felix. Did you need help finding anything?â But before Felix could answer, a certain someone had beat him to it. âWeâre fine, thanks.â Your body tensed up at Hyunjinâs harsh tone. It was the first time heâd talked directly to you, and not spat insults over text. Hyunjin quickly made his way behind a shelf to avoid having to see you, dragging his friend with him. That of who shot you a sympathetic look. As they disappeared out of sight briefly, you exhaled a sigh of relief glancing back at the clock. Ten minutes was going to end up feeling like an eternity. Anxiously as time passed, your fingers tapped against the glass shelf by the checkout counter. Although he was still in the store, he was out of sight. That alone managed to ease your nerves a bit. It was until you heard that harsh tone, once again. âWhere are the oil paints?â Glancing up, your eyes met once again with Hyunjinâs. It briefly took you back to high-school. You remember looking into his eyes and seeing nothing but a soft look. One filled with safeness, you saw love and affection in his eyes.
However, all you could see now was pure hatred. You werenât sure why, but your heart ached a little at that thought. Eventually, you mustered up the courage to respond. âUhm, depends what brand.â His eyes narrowed,
âWhat?â
âIt.. depends what brand. Theyâre on the shelf over there.â You gestured. âBut.. If youâre wanting a more high end brand then Iâll have to grab it from the back..â The words softly and cautiously fell through your teeth. Youâd not had a physical conversation with Hyunjin in years. Surprisingly to you, his voice was the same. It hadnât changed, and the more you observed about him the more pain you felt in your heart.
You two were so good together, why did things have to end up this way?
âSo?â He spat out harshly. You were left utterly confused with his question, still keeping your guard up. âSo⊠what?â You retaliated back at him, except you kept a nicer tone. You made a point to not piss him off more. He crossed his arms, âYou know what brand I use, or did our relationship just mean that little to you.â That specific statement left both you and Felix frozen, along with a thick tension in the air. You inhaled shakily, there was no way he was doing this right now; right? After all these years? âYou know what, letâs go Hyunjin-â
âItâs okay Felix.â Turning to the blonde who had now haulted his attempt to drag Hyunjin away before he could make it any worse. Slowly, you watched his grip loosen and soon release from Hyunjinâs arm who meanwhile, was stiff and filled with hatred. Your head turned back to Hyunjin. âTo put it simply, I made a point to forget everything about us after we broke up. It wasnât worth remembering.â Truthfully, that was not the case. You still knew and remembered every little detail about him, whether you wanted it or not. His favorite brand, his favorite color and food. You even remembered the name of the cologne he used. In fact, you could smell it. It was like he planted a seed with his DNA in your heart. It was an unshakeable and painful feeling. Even so, you stood your ground and watched as his face grew red. Out of anger or embarrassment? Youâd never know.
You kept a firm ground, your eyes glaring back into his. Hyunjins eyes glanced back and forth between you, and the shelf that held the oil paints which he had some how overlooked. Likely due to the anger he could feel when he heard your voice. And as if it couldnât have been better timing, the door opened once again. You quickly looked away, finding any excuse to break eye contact. This time, it was Seungmin who walked in, and you couldnât help but let a smile creep onto your face. âHey, Seungmin.â You stepped out from behind the counter, making your way over blissfully unaware that Hyunjinâs eyes had followed you. âI thought we were going out after my shift?â
âGoing out?â Hyunjin thought. His eye twitched at the thought of one of his childhood friends and his ex dating. Anger began to boil inside him. You surely hadnât meant anything romantic by the term âgoing outâ right? Then again, why should he care? Maybe because it felt like a stab in the back. Not from you, but from Seungmin. Someone he had put all his trust into for years. Felix immediately recognized the problem and tension at hand, âLetâs go Hyunjin, weâll come back later.â He muttered quietly, successfully dragging him out of the store this time, leaving you and Seungmin alone. Except you were completely unaware that a new problem had been created.
Felix had decided to take him next door to the cafe they both worked at, sitting him down at a table in the corner which was somewhat tucked away. Hyunjin was mad, irritated, livid. He was pissed, and it showed. âFucking bastard.â The words fell from his mouth as he ran his fingers to the middle of his scalp, tucking his head away as he acquired a tight grip on the strands of his hair. It wasnât long before the shorter male noticed his knuckles turning white. âThatâs not healthy Hyunjin, quit it.â With felixâs words and the way his hands grabbed onto Hyunjin, he was able to pry his fingers away from his hair. âRemember what your therapist said-â
âFelix I donât give a fuck what the therapist said.â He snapped, head now tucked in his hands. Luckily, Hyunjin was quiet, but that didnât erase the sharpness in his tone. âI donât fucking go there anymore so it really doesnât matter.â
âOkay well you need to.â His tone was now sharp as well. The black haired male raised his head to glare at his friend. âNot you too, that shits fucking stupid.â He leaned back in the chair as he crossed his arms. He was going through so much and all anyone cared about was sending him back to therapy? He scoffed at the thought. Felix couldnât help but sigh at Hyunjinâs behavior. Despite how frustrated he was, he kept his composure. âItâs not stupid, Hyunjin. Thereâs a reason you went in the first place and-â
âOkay well drop it! Iâm not going back and you canât force me!â His voice grew louder as he raised out of his seat, now attracting attention despite being tucked away at a corner table. Except all Felix could do was stare up at him, unable to care about the stares they may be receiving. His face showed nothing but pure irritation towards him. Hyunjin then happened to catch a glance outside the cafe window. There you and Seungmin were. Hands interlocked as he leaned over to whisper something in your ear. All he could do was sit and watch at how you giggled at whatever he whispered to you. That did it for him, pushing the chair over and storming off to what Felix could only assume to be the break room despite not being on the clock. His eyes shut at the racket of the chair hitting the floor. The blonde took a deep breath before standing up to pick it up. He glanced up at one of his co workers, apologizing for the noise before going behind the counter himself after Hyunjin.
Meanwhile, you and Seungmin were unaware of the conflict. Well, Seungmin was to an extent.. âSeriously Seungmin, I appreciate the gesture but you didnât have to pick me up from work.â Seungminâs lips curved into a smile before parting, giving you a glimpse of his perfect teeth. His fingers finding their way in between yours. âIt was nothing, seriously. Besides..â He trailed off before leaning down to whisper in your ear. âMore time with you.â His breath was warm, despite the somewhat cold fall air nipping at your skin. Heat rose to your cheeks and you couldnât help but giggle. âWell then, glad to know Iâm fun to be around.â Your eyes briefly looked up before looking back down. A breath of air escaped from your lips as a thought crossed your mind. Your smile turning into a purse of your lips. It was a comfortable silence of you lost in thought, and Seungmin successfully managing to take in every single one of your features without being noticed.
âWhat you thinking about? Seems like youâre lost in thought..â He said as he started to lead you by one hand along the sidewalk. Your eyes looked up to meet his as you walked. There was a question that was unanswered to you. Yet, it was one that could possibly backfire against you, or you receiving an answer you didnât want. Eventually, you found the will to ask. âWhere do you think this is leading..â Seungmin stopped and you did the same as you came to a cross walk. The screen signaling for you to wait. His eyes narrowed in confusion. âWhere is what leading?â Seungminâs body turned to face yours. âI mean.. us? This..â You trailed off as you gestured to your interlocked hands, earning a chuckle from him. âWellâŠâ
He started and took a brief pause before continuing. Yet this brief paused seemed to last for hours. Part of you wanted to be more with him, to put a label on you guys. But another part of you felt differently.. Before you could decipher what that feeling was, he gave you your answer. âWhatever you want us to be..â His head tilted as he looked down at you. A smile tugged at both of your lips simultaneously. Unfortunately, the moment was then ruined by the screen changing, letting pedestrians know it was their turn to walk.
As the evening continued, that conversation and his confusing(?) answer was pushed to the back of your mind. What did you want? Hell you didnât even know yourself. Every relationship since Hyunjin had done nothing but damage you internally. You swore when you were with Hyunjin that there would be no one better than him. Did you want to risk heartbreak again, or worse? Better question, why was your guys relationship still on your mind. You shouldâve been over him a long time ago, in your eyes. All these questions raced through your mind as the night came to a close, and Seungmin walking you from his car to your doorstep. Before you could reach for the handle, he stopped you. âSo.. you never gave me an answer.â He said in a somewhat serious tone. âWhat do you mean?â You cocked your head to the side. He smiled before softly asking the question you knew was coming.
âWhat do you want us to be?â
You froze, looking up at him. âI wasnât aware you asked..â You teased as he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. His brown eyes still visible even with the shadow casted from his hair. You observed them, they were filled with a look of safety, affection, and something else you couldnât quite decipher yet. Whether it was the heat of the moment, or maybe you had internally decided an answer, next thing you knew you leaned up. Briefly, you pressed your lips to his. And as you pulled back, you noticed a look of what seemed to be uncertainty in his eyes. You then questioned if it was a mistake. Anxiety ran through your veins. Did you fuck up?? But even with these doubts racing through your head, you questioned him. âDoes that answer your question?â A smile falling upon both your faces as he chuckled. âI think it does.â
Now, it was his turn to initiate. Seungminâs lips found their way back to yours. His hands gently grabbing your waist to pull you a bit closer. His touch was gentle, welcoming. So welcoming your arms snaked up around his neck. He tilted his head as he deepened the kiss. You only had to have been there for about 30 seconds but it felt so much shorter. As he pulled back, you had wished it lasted a bit longer. âGoodnight, yn.â He hesitated but let his arms return back to his side, you doing the same. As you parted ways, bid your goodnights and headed upstairs to your room, you couldnât help but think. It had only been two short months, but you felt a spark with Seungmin. It was a different spark. A lot of different feelings crept their way into your heart with Seungmin, it was almost worrying. AlmostâŠ
Should it have been worrying? Maybe? But you couldnât find it in yourself to care right now. For once you werenât thinking about school, your parents, or even Hyunjin. You were distracted, and thatâs all you cared about. All you could hope is for things to remain this way, if not blossom into something better. Something more
but we all donât get what we wantâŠ
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#stray kids#skz#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz smau#stray kids smau#bang chan#changbin#hyunjin#lee know#stray kids x reader#felix#han#seungmin#jeongin#hyunjin x reader#skz texts#stray kids texts#ateez#stray kids comfort#stray kids fake texts#hyunjin smau#hyunjin texts
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Okay, I read what I can from the epilogue and I just want to put out that I'm not saying I'm right about anything I say here because it's not an official release and I read from fan translations.
ăAlso refer to this post and this one!ă
So, again, I was right about Ozawa meeting Yuji again and they have a little heart to heart.
Talking about snow, what they're doing in the same place, bit about Shibuya, it was cute.
But the ending of it was more open ended (which isn't something I hate to be honest).
Before anyone goes "Oh, they pulled a MHA 431, it's so homophobic", I get that it might feel that way but... in no way did Yuji express anything romantic to Ozawa, let alone any kind of feelings for her. Like, let's take a step back FOR ONCE and analyze what's up here. Here, take my hand. Come on and follow along with me.
If anything, from his side, he thinks she is a cool girl. However, he still barely knows her and I doubt him if confessed to he would be like "Oh, I like you like that, too, Ozawa! Let's date!" She's, at best, an acquaintance. Someone in passing, someone he did go to middle school with.
So, her epilogue isn't even homophobic. At best, it's once again just Ozawa being all starry eyed over Yuji who doesn't know how she feels.
It's actually sad when you think about it.
In no way is her feelings are mutual. If Yuko was looking for love, Yuji may not be that person for it. I get it, sometimes you'll have feelings for the one person who was nice to you, but that doesn't mean it will be the only person.
Yuko being too busy hung up on Yuji may have missed a person who likes in the way she likes Yuji. What if there was someone else who did pay attention to the way she writes? Who did meet her at some point and got to know her and liked her for who she was?
And if not that, Yuko should have took Yuji's words to heart and realized how great she is and learn to love herself a little more.
The thing about the middle school flashback I feel, isn't just a flashback about her, but also to show the kind of person he is.
It shows that he's attentive and thoughtful. But also that his actions tend to be swayed by other people, even forcefully. Which happens often for Yuji. He told those boys he didn't like anybody and when asked again if he had to choose, he choose someone who he thought was a neat person. Those boys forced Yuji to give another answer despite him saying he didn't like anybody the first time.
If anything, that flashback serves as a more gentle example of who Yuji contrasting to Rin, another person who knew Yuji when he was a middle schooler (Rin is actually older than Yuji). In Rin's flashback, we see Yuji defend a kid that was being picked on.
Yuji was being attentive, he didn't ignore a kid being bullied. He stepped up and told them to leave him alone and when they didn't and decided to charge at Yuji, he was then forced to act violently. In turn, Rin was left with the impression he had of Yuji, just as Yuko was.
Bringing up the snow bit, it was cute. I liked it! Yuji being compared to snow. But this is not the first time someone has came across Yuji and thought of snow.
What was the incident they bring up this chapter? The Shibuya Incident, right. And who did Yuji have to fight and had cowering by the end of it? Mahito, yes, him. And other than a wolf, what else did Mahito imagine when he became fearful of Yuji? SNOW!
So like with Rin, Mahito's perception of Yuji is opposite of Yuko's. She got to experience a gentle side which she admires. Rin and Mahito got his violent side, which they feared.
With all that being said, even with this epilogue ending the way it did, it doesn't smell "canon" to me. Especially, on Yuji's end of things.
Yuji may have a type of girl he likes, but he is also someone who doesn't express romantic interest in anybody.
While this is Yuko's epilogue, I do feel like she is also just another character to showcase the kind of person Yuji can be. She being present shows a gentle side of him while characters like Rin and Mahito shows his violent side.
And no, again, I don't think this means they're canon. So I beg, certain shippers who like the same ship I do, don't jump on Yuko, Yuji or Akutami for thinking this is some homophobic chapter when the romance between a girl and a boy here once again went nowhere.
It really didn't feel like Akutami-sensei was really trying to make them canon. And given the track record of F/M ships in this series? Yeah... no...
#i beg folks to sometimes not jump to conclusions especially when the full chapters aren't even out yet#it's why i don't think people should take my word as final#it's really just left up to interpretation but at the same time let's look at the full picture here#just like with other mha shippers i won't name here i don't think that ship is a definite romantic win i don't#just ship however you want though#like itafushi shippers as a itafushi shipper myself I'm taking you by the hand#and telling you to not do what bkdk shippers did#just continue to ship itafushi#there are times even now people will ship characters who don't even interact#don't let that stop you#just kiya's thoughts#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk epilogues#jjk epilogue#jjk manga spoilers#jjk spoilers#itadori yuji#yuji itadori#itadori yuuji#yuuji itadori#ozawa yuko#yuko ozawa#itafushi#fushiita
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The guilt Wenda felt was crushing. She hardly ever felt bad- felt genuinely, truly remorseful, guilty, or upset over doing something that hurt another. Sure, she'd put on a sad, mopey face, let her tears out, and cry for forgiveness, but it was hard for her to actually feel bad for doing something wrong. But this... Her heart literally hurt from upsetting Raddy like this. Her throat felt tight and painful, her eyes were stinging with genuine tears, and her claws kept slipping from their sheathes and snagging into her skin. Wenda searches tirelessly for Raddy, even stopping by a few of the other's houses to ask if they'd seen him. Every single time, though, she was given the same answer: Nope, sorry. I'll let you know if I see him though! So, she continued to walk. For about an hour she wandered around aimlessly, weepy and worried... Eventually, she decided she needed to clear her mind for a bit, wandering into the same forest Raddy was in. It didn't take long for her to come across Raddy- Her hearing was impeccable!... Well, when it didn't come to actually focusing on listening to things- or to people talking... THEN she could hear a pin drop! She picked up on his sobbing first, immediately running towards the source- the scary thing was that she didn't make a sound as she moved. She was completely silent.. No rustling of leaves, no cracking of branches, no panting or crying out... nothing. So of course, it would have been a bit of a surprise hearing- "RADDY! There you are! Raddy, why did you do that?! You- Y-You scared me! You left me all alone! Why did you run away from me? Wh- Why are your hands bleeding? Raddy what happened?" Wenda gasped, moving to try and help the other up onto his feet.
You know Raddy. I think its finally time someone told you this. You're pathetic. You hide all of your feelings behind this angry mask and say your fine. You're not even strong enough to reach out for help. Underneath everything you're just a weak, pathetic man who no one even likes.
" . . . "
[ Mod :: Anyone is free to interact with this post. Jesus though. Was not expecting this one. Brutal ahh anon :sob: ]
#M: HI HIIII SORRY mom wanted to watch a movie w/ me. and then fell asleep like halfway though :(#ohhh ouch.. oh that sounds so painful ;;#sprunki raddy#sprunki rp#sprunki wenda
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played through the black mesa blue shift mod, up through the xen chapter since that's all they've released so far. the mod aims to remake the entirety of blue shift in the style of black mesa, and boy howdy does it deliver on that, for better and for worse.
they actually establish a couple supporting characters, more security guards and scientists, which is nice. in the original game it was basically just dr rosenberg, so more named characters is a good change imo. feels like you're actually rallying people together to fight your way out of black mesa.
a weird thing this mod does is take away player control sometimes. i can understand it for specific sequences, like when the elevator crashes at the beginning or when you first teleport into xen, but it also does it for some mundane things too, like inserting a keycard into a switch. why? half-life's whole thing is letting the player be in control the whole time.
the first few chapters are well paced, but it starts feeling like its padding a bit when you go off to find dr rosenberg. you have to do this whole song and dance moving a train back and forth and turning it around properly on turntables to bust him out. they could have cut out some of the tedium there a little.
my problems really start when it comes to the xen chapter. the original blue shift xen chapter lasts for roughly 30-40 minutes for a first time player, though someone like me was able to speed through it in under 15. with the black mesa mod, they have stretched out the runtime of this chapter to 3 hours.
it starts off pretty strong, you're making your way through xen, taking in the sights and finding all the stuff the previous science teams have left behind. about 90 minutes in i was wondering when i'm gonna get to the focal point relay thing, the whole reason calhoun goes to xen in the first place.
but instead you keep detouring through black mesa outposts and alien factory things and it just gets so long in the tooth. it'd be one thing if you get to one of these places and you're there for 5-10 minutes at most, but you typically spend over 20, sometimes even 30 minutes at these places.
there's one bit where you inexplicably decide to jump on the back of one of the giant flying manta rays and it flies around for like 15 minutes like an autoscroller section until it gets shot down by alien railguns, and then you spend 30 minutes making your way over to and destroying the railguns. and the whole time i'm just like... when are we getting to the focal point thing.
so finally you get to the focal point relay and turn it on but it gets jammed by a signal so you spend another 40 minutes blazing through ANOTHER alien factory so you can blow it up and you make your way back to the focal point thing and the portal's open but alien controllers keep telekinetically grabbing you and yanking you away from it... and it's just so exhausting. i got burned out.
not to mention the weirdness with how they handle vortigaunts. so in black mesa they do this whole thing in xen to show that the vorts are slaves and don't actually want to fight you, but calhoun never encounters any of that stuff. for the first 2/3rds of xen in this mod, vortigaunts are constantly trying to kill you non-stop. then all of a sudden they don't attack you anymore. why? because i, the player know they're not really bad? why would calhoun know that? it doesn't really make sense to me.
xen is cool. i like xen. if you told me "we're adding more xen to blue shift" i'd be like alright that's cool. but 6-8 times more? that's way too much. xen in blue shift was never meant to be a long trip. calhoun was supposed to get in, find the focal point relay, align it, and leave, not go on a grand alien gallivanting adventure. that's for gordon to do.
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Echoes of Eywa's Child.
chapter 1.
(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)
Pending....Pending....
Date: December 21st,2170.
Location: Office,Unit 4,Avatar Department,Human Outpost Biolab,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.
Time: 10:15 AM.
A long time has passed since I've known about this once alien planet. 4.4 light years away,a world full of life,like a lost paradise,sat idly in silence,away from the death and destruction that has scattered over Earth like a goddamn plague.
The ones before us saw the danger of it all,and yet they turned a blind eye,all because the climate change and the fractures in the atmosphere caused by the heightened levels of carbon dioxide wouldnât affect them in the long run. Theyâd be dead anyway by the time it got too serious. So much for doing the right thing.
I wasnât even born when they discovered Pandora,though until I actually got a grasp of reality and gained consciousness like everybody does at 5 years old,Iâve actually wondered if the so-called âGoldilocks Zoneâ existed somewhere else. If God smiled upon the universe and gave another planet the privilege of life.
Trust me,I have no idea how I even got here. So much time has passed since Iâve breathed in the polluted air of Earth,but I guess itâs for the benefit of all.
Guess we'll do it like they always do,huh?Start from the beginning of it all.
Pending...Pending...
Date: January 26th,2170
Location: Home,New York,USA, Earth.
Time: 12:43 PM.
Nobody ever thought that a girl like me would end up as the head leader of the Avatar Department,or an important person in the Resistance. And I gotta say,I never quite imagined myself becoming this. I dreamt of stages full of fans,as my fingers gave birth to heart-shattering riffs. Of poetry books released under my very own name,painting the pages with complicated feelings and sensations,all of a broken and imperfect human heart. Of having my own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,making my country proud as a well known actress overseas. Though all those dreams were scattered away,like a feather in the wind,the moment I decided to do what any other scared yet artistically talented person who wants to make her parents proud does.
I got into STEM. Mechanical and Biological Engineering.
And between the sleepless nights of studying,drowning myself in math equations and lab reports,I got a one-way ticket to Pandora in my first year of college,from the one and only Parker Selfridge. Head administrator of the RDAâs operation in Pandora. I can still feel the anxiety lingering on my tongue. They never came with internships for first years,so what was he here for?
He came in to give out 5 internships at my college,yet he left with a new potential piece for this chess game. Me. All thanks to a question he asked that I knew the answer of. And to think I almost didn't say the answer because I thought everyone knew it,but as it turns out,only I did. I sat in the hallway with my friends,staring dumbfoundedly at the bussiness card he gave me.
Only back then,the RDA were treated as heroes,important people who made way for a better life. For an undead Earth. The propaganda was all enough to trick a little mind like mine,though itâs funny how I always thought I was a step ahead of everyone. Life on Earth as I remember it was,to say the leastâŠgrey.
The cities were gray. The people were gray. The sky wasâŠwell,grey. And between spending the rest of my life here,with my dreams crumbling before my very own eyes,and going out there to actually fight for a new home for humanity,you can guess why I chose the latter.
Nothing out of the ordinary was happening for me here anyway. Gorgeous girl,great personality,they all said,but nobody ever settled. Nobody ever stopped in their tracks to take in the pure and total beauty of the chaos that is me,so I never had a serious partner before. AndâŠI guess I was also excited to see if the stories are true.
How an actual human betrayed his own race for aâŠNaâvi tribe princess?At least thatâs how they put it,and I donât even want to mention how embarrassing it was for the RDA to come back to Earth with their tails between their legs back in 2154. No unobtanium. No money. No Avatars. No nothing. I was three when that happened,and I remember playing with my cousins with our cardboard toys as our parents watched the TV in confusion andâŠdisappointment,so you can guess why they made Jake Sully seem like an actual demon,and the death of a colonel was a pretty big deal,after all.
Thing is,the RDA only shows you the pearl in their hands,and not the mouth getting ready to swallow you whole. And now I know why they were so understaffed. That total failure after 2154 made people lose trust in the RDA over the years. But to me?
The decision came easily. I needed something new.
What didnât,though,was the pure work Iâd have to do in just 6 months. Learning the language of the natives,the Naâvi. Getting to understand the differences between our anatomy and theirs. The fauna and flora. The tribes. The ecosystems. AndâŠof course,Eywa herself,though I learned that from Dr. Grace Augustineâs botany books,not from the RDAâs training program. I honestly donât know what Selfridge saw in me,when I know I have friends better in college than me,but I better not question it too much.
I tried telling myself that as soon as I got in cryo,it wouldnât be a goodbye,rather aâŠsee you later. Looking back at it now,I think it was just wishful thinking. For now,I was me,the girl nobody ever really took seriously. Just another face in a sea of others. Next time I wake up,Iâd have to work in an entire department with people twice my age.
The cryo-sleep thaw was a nightmare and a miracle all at once. My lungs burned as they dragged in air for the first time in six years, my throat raw and dry, every breath tasting metallic. My joints ached as if Iâd aged a century.
âSubject revived.â the sterile voice of the AI announced, flat and emotionless. I tried sitting up, only to slump back down against the cryo podâs restraints. My body wasnât mine yetânot entirely.
âYouâll feel like shit for a while,â said a woman in a crisp lab coat, her voice muffled as she checked my vitals. âSide effects of long-term cryo. Itâll pass. Welcome to the ISV Valkyrie, and congrats on making it to Pandora.â
The word hung in the air, heavy and surreal. Pandora.
The next few hours were a blur of debriefings and medical checkups. My body eventually began to cooperate, but my mind lagged behind. I shuffled through endless corridors with other groggy personnel, each of us too stunned to speak. We were like ghosts wandering through a ship that pulsed with lifeâtechnicians barking orders, holograms buzzing with real-time scans of the moonâs surface, the low hum of engines preparing for atmospheric descent.
When the ship finally broke through Pandoraâs atmosphere, I felt it in my chest. The vibrations reverberated through every bolt, every panel, and through me. The world outside the viewport was alive. The dense, green forests sprawled endlessly beneath the floating Hallelujah Mountains, their bases wreathed in ethereal clouds. The sky shifted from pink to blue in the blink of an eye, its colors alien yet breathtakingly familiar.
For a moment, the hum of engines and the chatter of voices faded away. It was just me and the sight of this strange, beautiful moonâa place that could have been paradise if we werenât here to ruin it.
The ship landed with a jarring shudder, and the real work began.
Adjusting to life on Pandora was like learning to breathe all over again. Everything about this place demanded respectâthe gravity was lighter, the air richer, and the biology... unfathomable. Days blurred into weeks as I threw myself into the work at the Avatar Department.
My mornings began with syncing sessions in the link pods, my mind slipping into my Avatar body like stepping into a cold pool. It wasnât seamlessâat first, every movement felt foreign. I stumbled through training exercises, my longer legs and stronger muscles betraying me at every turn. But slowly, the body became mine.
Afternoons were spent reading over files on Naâvi biology, studying their neural networks and learning their language. The words felt clumsy on my tongue, but I persisted. When I wasnât in the lab or out on field assignments to observe Pandoraâs ecosystems, I was immersed in RDA briefings.
Thatâs where I first heard his name again.
Jake Sully.
The briefings spoke of him like a ghost, a legend who had long since passed into myth. But here, his name was a warning.
âResistance forces led by Sully attacked the rail line near Sector 7 again,â one of the military officers growled during lunch at the canteen. âThree shipments of amp suits lost. That bastard and his little insurgents are crippling our operations.â
The room buzzed with tension as reports of attacks piled up. Sabotaged trains, stolen supplies, and destroyed equipmentâit was chaos. To the RDA, Sully wasnât just a traitor. He was the personification of everything standing in the way of their plans.
But the more I learned, the more conflicted I felt. The propaganda painted him as a terrorist, a man who had betrayed his own kind for a primitive cause. But every whisper I caught from the scientists who had been here longer told a different story.
âMaybe Sully isnât the villain they make him out to be,â I muttered to Dr. Ellison one evening as we worked late in the lab.
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable as he pointed towards a CCTV with his head,as if to say "Shut up. They're listening."
"Thatâs dangerous talk,you know. Keep your head down. Do your work. They don't like questions.â
I nodded, but the seed of doubt had already taken root.
The attacks continued, each one more brazen than the last. The RDA ramped up their operations in response, sending more troops and machinery into the wilds of Pandora. But for every move they made, the Resistance seemed to be one step ahead.
And then there was the tension between the people I worked with. Some were diehard loyalists, determined to see the mission succeed no matter the cost. Othersâmostly the scientistsâspoke in hushed tones about the beauty of the Naâvi culture, the interconnectedness of the flora and fauna, and the destruction we were bringing to this world.
I kept my head down, just as Ellison had warned. But at night, as I lay in my bunk staring at the ceiling, I couldnât help but wonder: which side of history would I be on?
Pandora had a way of getting under your skin. The longer I stayed, the more I realized it wasnât just a place. It was a mirror, reflecting humanityâs best and worst instincts back at us. And somewhere in the middle of it all was meâa girl who had come here for a fresh start, only to find herself caught in a war she didnât fully understand.
The attacks became more than background noise; they became a constant undercurrent to life on Pandora. At first, they were just distant explosions, reports in the briefing room, or muttered curses from the military personnel in the mess hall. But over time, the Resistance started to feel like a presence, a shadow that loomed over everything the RDA tried to accomplish.
Jake Sully wasnât just a name anymoreâhe was a force of nature.
The first time I felt the Resistance's impact directly was during a supply run. It was supposed to be routineâa quick trip to outpost Beta-5 to deliver Avatar-linked monitoring equipment. I was tagging along as part of my training, mostly to observe.
But the Resistance didnât care about schedules or safety zones.
The attack was fast and chaotic. One moment, the AMP suits ahead of us were trudging through the dense forest, their movements mechanical and predictable. The next, arrows rained down from the trees, followed by explosions that sent the towering machines toppling like broken toys.
The ambush hit like a stormâsudden, violent, and unstoppable.
One moment, I was riding in the back of the supply truck, surrounded by crates of equipment and two guards sharing a nervous laugh. The next, the forest erupted in chaos.
The first explosion flipped the lead AMP suit, its towering frame crashing to the ground with a deafening roar. The convoy came to an abrupt halt as arrows rained down from the trees, their sharp points glinting like falling stars.
âGet down!â someone yelled.
I hit the truck bed hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. My mask rattled against the metal floor as I scrambled for cover behind a crate. The world around me dissolved into a cacophony of gunfire, shouting, and the eerie war cries of the Naâvi.
The guards fired blindly into the trees, their exo-packs hissing as they struggled to maintain their aim under the pressure. I peeked over the edge of the crate just in time to see one of the AMP suits stagger, an arrow embedded in its cockpit.
Panic set in. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. I wasnât a soldier. I wasnât trained for this. My human body was fragile hereâone wrong move, and Iâd be dead.
I clutched the sidearm theyâd insisted I carry, though my hands were shaking too much to use it. What was I even doing here? This wasnât supposed to be my fight.
A shadow passed overhead. My breath hitched as I looked up to see a Naâvi warrior leaping from a tree, his bow drawn, his movements impossibly fluid. He landed on the roof of the truck with barely a sound, his golden eyes scanning the scene below.
And then, those eyes locked onto mine.
For a moment, the chaos of the ambush melted away, leaving only silence between us.
He stood above me, perched on the edge of the truckâs roof, silhouetted against the glowing forest. His figure was tall and commanding, every line of his body taut with a warriorâs grace. The flickering bioluminescence of the nearby trees played off his skin, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his lean, muscular frame.
His face was angular and strong, the high cheekbones and sharp jawline unmistakably Naâvi, yet there was something softer in his expression. His golden eyes, large and luminous, fixed on me with an intensity that felt like a physical force. They werenât filled with rage or cruelty but something far more unnervingâcalculated curiosity, as though he were trying to read my soul in that single moment.
The streaks of blue war paint decorating his face didnât fully mask the smooth, rich azure of his skin, which gleamed faintly under the pale light of Pandoraâs twin moons. His braids, adorned with small beads and feathers, swayed gently with each subtle movement, a testament to the culture he carried with him like armor.
But it wasnât just his appearance that struck meâit was his presence.
He radiated confidence, a quiet power that demanded attention without arrogance. It was the kind of aura that made the world around him seem smaller, less significant. The chaos raging around us felt like a distant hum compared to the weight of his gaze.
And yet, beneath that commanding presence, there was something deeperâan unmistakable grief, perhaps, or a burden that someone so young should never have to carry. It was in the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth, and the way his hands gripped the bow with both precision and purpose.
âDrop it,â he said, his voice deep and steady, but with a softness that caught me off guard.
The words hit me like a command, though they werenât barked or shouted. It was the tone of someone who expected to be obeyedânot out of fear, but respect.
For a second, I couldnât breathe. The sidearm in my trembling hands felt heavier than it should, as if the very act of holding it was a betrayal. His gaze flicked to the weapon, then back to me, and I realized with a jolt that he wasnât looking at me like an enemy. He was looking at me like a question.
âYou are⊠different,â he said, tilting his head slightly, the movement as fluid and deliberate as everything else about him. His accent curled around the words, each syllable infused with the lyrical cadence of his native tongue.
I wanted to speak, to ask him what he meant, but my throat felt dry, my voice lost in the weight of the moment.
He crouched slightly, lowering himself onto one knee so we were nearly at eye level. Even then, his presence dwarfed mine. Up close, the details became sharperâthe faint patterns of his skin, the slight twitch of his ears as they picked up the sounds of the battle behind him, the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.
âYou do not fight,â he observed, the faintest hint of curiosity threading through his words. His eyes lingered on mine, their golden glow unwavering. âAnd you⊠fear.â
It wasnât an accusation. It was a statement of fact, delivered with neither judgment nor malice.
His hand shifted slightly, and I flinched, but he didnât reach for me. Instead, he pointed at the weapon still lying on the ground between us.
The Naâvi reacted instantly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet with startling gentleness.
âYou do not belong here,â he said, his voice low and urgent. âRun.â
âWhatââ
âGo!â
He released me and darted back into the fray, moving with the grace of a predator and the determination of someone who had everything to lose.
I didnât run. Not immediately. Instead, I crouched behind the truck, my legs trembling as I watched the battle unfold.
He moved like the forest itself, blending into the chaos with a skill that seemed almost supernatural. He wasnât just fightingâhe was leading. The other Naâvi warriors followed his signals, their coordinated strikes overwhelming the RDA forces.
For every bullet fired, they had an arrow. For every shout of anger, they answered with a battle cry that sent chills down my spine.
And yet, amidst the violence, there was something strangely... noble about them. They didnât kill indiscriminately. They targeted the machines, the vehicles, the weapons. It was as if they were trying to make a point rather than simply annihilate us.
When the ambush finally ended, the Resistance had melted back into the forest, leaving behind a convoy in ruins. Smoke rose from the wreckage, and the air was thick with the smell of burning fuel.
I stumbled out from behind the truck, my legs barely holding me up. Around me, the survivors were regrouping, their faces pale and shell-shocked.
âMedic!â someone called, dragging a wounded soldier from the wreckage.
But I couldnât move. My mind was stuck on himâthe way heâd looked at me, the way heâd spared me when he could have easily ended my life.
âYou do not belong here,â heâd said.
The words echoed in my head as I stared at the destruction around me. For the first time, I began to wonder if he was right.
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