#please go ahead i am open to editing this later

[junipernight]

Yangvik Week 2024 - Days 2 and 4

Prompts: Touch Starved, Family, and Hair

___________________________________________

Balm

“Alright, I’m ready,” said Yangchen, stepping out from behind the finned-caribou hide that partitioned the tent.

Kavik squinted at her. She was dressed in the blue furs of the water tribe, in a knee-length parka with a moon motif on the front panel. Her hair had been swept up and folded into a bun, with two strands on either side of her face hanging in braids and adorned with bone beads. Her arrows were completely covered by the warm mittens on her hands and the thick fringe over her forehead.

She looked every inch a Northern Water Tribe girl - even her eyes, normally a dark gray, seemed to have taken on a slightly icy hue, as if they were reflecting the arctic world around them—but there was something off about the disguise.

Kavik snapped his fingers as he figured it out. “You look like my gran-gran!” he said. Then his thoughts caught up with his mouth, and he said, “Wait, that didn’t come out right.”

Luckily, Yangchen seemed more amused than offended. “How was it supposed to come out, then?”

Kavik poked the bun at the nape of her neck. “Your hair. No one younger than my gran-gran wears their hair like that.”

Yangchen frowned. This had been her favorite way to do her hair, in one past life or another. She hadn’t even thought about it before tying her hair up—her fingers had remembered all on their own.

Thinking back on her time training in Agna Qel’a, however, she realized Kavik was right. She would stick out if she wore her hair like this, and it was very important that she blend in for the sake of the mission: Today, she was meeting Kavik’s extended family in Long Stretch.

And if everything went well, they would never suspect that “Ilagik” was the Avatar. 

Yangchen  peeked out the tent flap: the tundra greeted her, wide open and vibrant and abuzz with the frenetic energy of late summer. The sun was obscured by a light mist, but she could make out a bright spot low on the eastern horizon. “We have some time before we have to leave,” she said. “I can try again.”

“Let me help you,” Kavik offered.

Yangchen raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“My cousin taught me how to braid when I was little,” he said defensively, as if he were offended that she doubted him.

Yangchen shrugged, and flounced onto the nearest bedroll. “Ok then. You do it.”

Kavik took off his mittens and sat behind her. He pulled out the beads, untied the ribbons, and unpinned the fake fringe. Then he began to comb her hair. He started at the bottom, gently running his fingers through the strands and gently teasing apart tangles. Gradually he worked his way up to the roots of her hair.

Without meaning to, Yangchen leaned back into his touch, her eyes drifting shut. Having her hair brushed felt nice, nicer than she would have expected. It wasn’t an experience she was accustomed to; the last time someone had brushed her hair would have been back at the Western Air Temple. The older Air Nomad girls taught the younger ones how to deal with hair after they turned old enough; growing one’s hair out was an important marker of growing up. Yangchen didn’t remember whose hands had brushed her hair and taught her how to hold the comb, only that it hadn’t been Jetsun.

Yangchen winced. 

“Sorry,” said Kavik, thinking the motion had been in response to something he did.

Yangchen suddenly noticed that there wasn’t much braiding going on. “Are you playing with my hair?”

Kavik paused guiltily, “... maybe.”

“Keep doing it, it feels nice.”

Kavik was happy to oblige. He ran his hands through her hair some more, watching the silky strands slip through his fingers.

“Tell me about your cousin,” she said. “The one who taught you how to braid.”

Kavik began to separate her hair into sections. “I have a lot of cousins, but my favorite is Yuka. Every year, we used to see each other at fish camp, and we’d all go everywhere together like a pack of porcupine seals. Yuka is the oldest, and Kalyann and I used to think that cloudberries sprouted wherever she walked. She’s really smart, and she always had the best ideas for games.

“One summer, she was teaching my girl cousins how to braid their hair, and I cried until she let me learn too.”

Yangchen grinned as she imagined Kavik, baby-cheeked and innocent and tearful about being excluded.

“Real tears?” she inquired. “Or were you a master liar even then?”

“Very real tears,” Kavik assured her solemnly. . “I would never lie to Yuka.” 

Yangchen snorted, not believing him for a minute. “Will I get to meet Yuka?”

“I hope so. I heard she’s married now; hopefully she didn’t move away.”

“Do you mind if I use a little hair grease?” Kavik asked, holding up a small jar. 

“Umm...” Yangchen was willing to eat meat, if that was what was available. She was aware that the clothes she wore and the tent they were sheltered in were made from the hides of dead animals… hides which had been carefully waterproofed with the same animal fat Kavik now held up, no doubt. And yet, it still made her uncomfortable, the idea of rubbing cooked animal remains directly on her person.

She was about to say yes anyway, for the disguise and because it wasn’t really a big deal, when Kavik surprised her.

“It’s from Taku,” he said, twisting open the lid. Instead of the stench of animal fat, a fruity and sweet aroma filled the air, taking her by surprise. “I think it’s some kind of fruit oil.”

Yangchen’s shoulders relaxed. “Sure.”

Kavik rubbed the grease onto his hands and began to massage it into her hair. Whatever fruit it was, it was familiar. The scent called her back to some other place, in some other lifetime, but Yangchen resisted, focusing on the soft patter of rain on the tent and the gentle tugging of her companion’s hands through her hair; he was massaging her scalp now, digging his fingers into the roots of her hair; this was even better than the brushing.

No one touched Yangchen anymore, outside of occasional bouts of physical combat. In the western air temple, she had grown up in close proximity to dozens of girls, with whom she’d had very little physical boundaries. Her sisters and she had piled on the same beds, and huddled for warmth during festivals at the northern temple, and tackled each other both on and off the air ball court. And of course Jetsun had always been her greatest source of comfort, holding her close and anchoring her to the present when she was wracked by the grief and anguish of a thousand past lives. After Jetsun had died and Yangchen had left the temple, she’d been left with almost no one. Just a lonely figure at the top of an air spout, suspended in front of  an audience.

(Except for Nu Jian, when she still had him. Nu Jian couldn’t hug her, but at least she could hug Nu Jian.)

When had Kavik become the exception to her isolation? When had Kavik become the one that casually lifted her up and spun her around?

She was almost sad when he finally began braiding her hair, but they did have somewhere to be, and a long ride ahead of them. 

Kavik froze a thin sheet of ice, and held it up to her when he was done.

“What do you think?” He asked.

Kavik had braided the bulk of her hair into one long braid and pulled it into a loop that dangled from the crown of her head. He’d also redone the face-framing qilliqti that she had tried to do before. Yangchen had struggled to thread the thin braids through the beads, and her earlier attempt had been frizzy because of it. The hair grease combined with Kavik's skill had made the braids sleek and elegant.

Yangchen turned to thank him, and then immediately dodged a greasy finger aimed right for her nose. Another greasy hand came at her, and she grabbed Kavik’s wrists.

“Stop that!” She laughed.

“But you like my hands,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I’m trying to give you a hug!”

“Oh!” It was Kavik’s turn to be surprised. “Okay.”

She hugged him. And then she directed his greasy hands back at his face.

“Hey!”

.

.

.

(They were slightly late to dinner with Kavik’s parents.)

[c4tsc4pe]

Classpect Analysis Definitions Guide Combob

i read a Smashing aspect analysis by @/alicesonions (which this is very inspired by check it out right now the redesigned symbols are awesome) and wanted to revamp my own so here we go shaggy 2 dope classpect guide 2.0 (og draft here)

this is just a rundown on how i personally understand/use classpects even though i love talking my ass off and want to over explain all this i tried to write hopefully easily digestible and to the point definitions using key words and phrases bc thats how i personally learn things (i might make an extended version with further information and analysis later)

this can always be edited too i am So open to discussion criticism etc please tell me every single one of your thoughts about classpects in tags comments whatever I LOVE HEARING IT

anyway fat megapost ahead man the cannons

- - >

Classpects

A “Classpect” is a player’s title in Sburb, which uses the formula [Class] of [Aspect]. Not only does a Classpect dictate a player's reality-bending powers, but it defines a player’s place in their session, their place in reality, and their place within the narrative itself.

There are two components that make up a player's Classpect: their aspect and their class. There are 12 aspects and 14 classes in total. Hypothetically, ANY player could be ANY of the 168 total combos of these, no matter the person, but Sburb will narrow down the options and pick a player’s Classpect depending on how it thinks it can BEST use them in the game/their specific session.

A Classpect is chosen via a sort of “sorting hat” method. The person you are (struggles, goals, gaming strategies, how you interact with the world and others, etc.) inadvertently dictates your Classpect, but that is only BEFORE THE GAME STARTS. Once you’ve entered Sburb, Skaia will ultimately decide your role based on everything it gathered, and you are stuck with it whether you like it or not.

[In total: Classpects are a predetermined in-game role to fulfill as well as a narrative tool.]

Aspects

Aspects are described as “the basic building blocks of everything that exists within paradox space”; a cosmic property that relates MOST to a player and that they have the potential to BEST excel at.

A player’s aspect is always something the player starts out STRUGGLING with in some way. No one ever has total control or knowledge of their aspect right off the bat. It is something that challenges the player and must be learned over time so the player can grow and reach their full potential as a Hero of their aspect.

Aspects are a neutral and nuanced concept- no aspect is inherently good nor bad.

The 12 aspects: Breath, Light, Time, Space, Life, Hope, Void, Heart, Blood, Mind, Doom, and Rage.

Breath: The aspect of freedom and detachment. Breath is impossible to hold down, easy breezy, head in the clouds, go with the flow. Breath is breeze, movement, flight, weightlessness, indirection, and independence. Breath blows whatever way it feels like, not caring about much else.

Narrative connection: Plot development.

Breath’s opposing aspect is Blood.

Light: The aspect of knowledge and illumination. Light exposes the hidden, brightens the dark corners, brings things into the spotlight. Light is relevance, illumination, luck, enlightenment, sight, visibility, definition, and attention. Light brings itself to what is hidden in the dark.

Narrative connection: Plot relevance.

Lights opposing aspect is Void.

Time: The aspect of rhythm and destruction. Time is connected to death, the past and future, taking action, small details, the destination over the journey. Time is repetition, iteration, cycles, pace, patterns, preservation, decay, continuity, and management. Time is the steady tick of a clock, the constant rotation of an ever-turning gear.

Narrative connection: Pacing.

Times opposing aspect is Space.

[Time is one of the fundamental fabrics making up paradox space and is therefore an aspect required to win Sburb. If your session does not have a Time player, your session is doomed to fail.]

Space: The aspect of creation and beginnings. Space is new things, focused on the wait-and-see, the big picture, the here-and-now, the journey over the destination. Space is destiny, matter, physics, making, innovation, and intuition. Space is a vast endless infinity of possibility.

Narrative connection: Setting.

Spaces opposing aspect is Time.

[Space is one of the fundamental fabrics making up paradox space and is therefore an aspect required to win Sburb. If your session does not have a Space player, your session is doomed to fail.]

Life: The aspect of agency and autonomy. Life is foraging your own path, own destiny, self-direction, growing and strengthening. Life is nature, health, resilience, energy, progress, healing, vitality, and nourishment. Life sees its route and fights to take it.

Narrative connection: Agency/action.

Life’s opposing aspect is Doom.

Hope: The aspect of belief. Hope is dreams and wishes, blind optimism, unstoppable force, the "there’s always a way, nothings impossible". Hope is faith, possibility, positivity, will, imagination, and determination. Hope is a clear, enthusiastic "YES!".

Narrative connection: Convenience.

Hopes opposing aspect is Rage.

Void: The aspect of nothingness and the unknown. Void is a blank canvas, an empty page, a dark corner, a shadow concealing darkness. Void is secrets, mystery, invisibility, unexplained, ignorance, irrelevance, and uncertainty. Void obscures what the light can't reach.

Narrative connection: Plot irrelevance.

Voids opposing aspect is Light.

Heart: The aspect of feeling and self. Heart is the core of a person, their identity, passions and interests, the soul, feelings instead of thoughts. Heart is motivation, love, emotions, uniqueness, personal, individualism, bias, and passion. Heart follows itself.

Narrative connection: Inner self.

Hearts opposing aspect is Mind.

Blood: The aspect of unity. Blood is down to earth, grounded and chained, has expectations, forms relationships. Blood is community, responsibility, care, effort, stability, obligation, and connection. Blood is running through everyone's veins and knows it.

Narrative connection: Character dynamics.

Blood’s opposing aspect is Breath.

Mind: The aspect of thought. Mind is unbiased decision making, apathy, black and white, blends in with the crowd. Mind is equality, ration, logic, reason, judgement, calculation, choice, balance, and justification. Mind pushes away feelings and thinks instead.

Narrative connection: Outer self.

Minds opposing aspect is Heart.

Doom: The aspect of fate and constraint. Doom works within the rules, within restriction, follows damands. Doom is burdens, prophecy, acceptance, necessity, limitation, punishment, and misfortune. Doom does not negotiate against the inevitable.

Narrative connection: Conflict.

Doom’s opposing aspect is Life.

Rage: The aspect of refusal and rebellion. Rage is the ugly truth, holding back, immovable object, being stuck, “it’s impossible, there’s no way out”. Rage is cynicism, defiance, fury, negativity, anger, riot and revenge. Rage is a loud, guttural “NO!”.

Narrative connection: Contrivance.

Rage’s opposing aspect is Hope.

Classes

Classes are the second ingredient of the Classpect formula. Since an aspect is a cosmic property that relates most to a player, a class is how that player USES/INTERACTS with that cosmic property & its powers. Classes are NOT something a player struggles with and are just dictated by how they approach/play the game.

Classes are a neutral and nuanced concept- no class is a “worse/better” or “evolved” version of another, no class is gender locked, and no class is inherently good nor bad.

There are six functions of classes: creation, destruction, exploitation, manipulation, knowledge, and relocation.

[Creation: Bringing something into existence.

Destruction: Taking something out of existence.

Exploitation: Having something and using it.

Manipulation: Changing or altering something.

Knowledge: Knowing all about something.

Relocation: Stealing and/or moving something.]

The 14 classes: Heir, Seer, Knight, Witch, Maid, Page, Rogue, Prince, Mage, Sylph, Thief, and Bard, and the two master classes: Lord and Muse.

Heir: One who changes with their aspect or is changed through their aspect. Heirs inherit their aspect and can greatly use it for their session and coplayers.

Class function: Manipulation.

Heirs' counterpart class is Witch.

Seer: One who knows their aspect or knows through their aspect. Seers are knowledge-seekers who obtain information by observing, and guide their coplayers using what they learn.

Class function: Knowledge.

Seer's counterpart class is Mage.

Knight: One who fights for/protects their aspect or fights/protects using their aspect. Knights are set on serving and defending their session and coplayers, using their persona as a shield and their aspect as a weapon.

Class function: Exploitation.

Knight's counterpart class is Page.

Witch: One who alters/bends their aspect or alters/bends using their aspect. Witches utilize their powers to bend the rules and test the limits of their aspect and session itself.

Class function: Manipulation.

Witch's counterpart class is Heir.

Maid: One who serves/repairs their aspect or serves/repairs with their aspect. Maids clean, preserve, and maintain their session with/and their aspect, just as a housekeeper would.

Class function: Creation.

Maid's counterpart class is Sylph.

Page: One who strengthens their aspect or finds themselves through their aspect. Pages start out as weaker underdogs, but once their potential is fully realized, they can use their power to an astounding degree.

Class function: Exploitation.

Page's counterpart class is Knight.

Rogue: One who steals their aspect or steals from their aspect to provide others with it. Rouges take from their aspect and redistribute what they steal to their coplayers Robin Hood style.

Class function: Relocation.

Rouge's counterpart class is Thief.

Prince: One who destroys their aspect or destroys with their aspect. Princes are powerful, blunt forces in their session who once fully realized, will stop at nothing until they reach their goal.

Class function: Destruction.

Prince's counterpart class is Bard.

Mage: One who understands their aspect or understands through their aspect. Mages are the experiencers of their aspect that utilize their experience with it to guide themselves.

Class function: Knowledge.

Mage's counterpart class is Seer.

Thief: One who steals their aspect or steals from their aspect to keep themselves. Thieves are focused on taking from their session and others in it, then keeping that power for their own benefit.

Class function: Relocation.

Thief's counterpart class is Rogue.

Sylph: One who heals/mends their aspect or heals/mends using their aspect. Sylphs are vastly supportive to their coplayers through both backstage influence and personal interference.

Class function: Creation.

Sylph's counterpart class is Maid.

Bard: One who allows the destruction of their aspect or invites destruction through their aspect. Bards can be kind of a wildcard for their session, possibly for the best (or the worst).

Class function: Destruction.

Bard's counterpart class is Prince.

Master Classes

Lord: One who rules their aspect or rules using their aspect. Lords are intensely powerful domineers who command their aspect, session, and everything in it to bow down to them.

Lord's counterpart class is Muse.

Muse: One who inspires their aspect or inspires through their aspect. Muses are completely in tune with their aspect and influence their session with it, leading it like a conductor with their baton.

Muse's counterpart class is Lord.

[teenandbeyond]

Feel free to ignore this if you are busy but may I pls request a part 2? For Lord Beerus X God of Life Male Reader?? Just sweet domestic and romantic stuff, maybe the Z Fighters accidentally finding out about the relationship and shenanigans ensures??

Beerus x M. God of Life Reader pt. 2

And here I am. Making a part 2. I kinda lost my flow but wanted to continue xD

Leh goooo!

Want more from me? Masterlist, baby

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

🥢Chaos & Love🥢 (DBS or Dragon ball Super)

Warning(s): Fluffy as a pillow, Mxm (but duh bc the title), I DID not edit 😭😭

You just want to be with Beerus in peace, why must these earthlings bother your peace yet again?

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

It's a little ironic that you're the God of Life, but never found domestic behavior something you wanted to experience.

Well, until you met him.

The God of Destruction.

Something else ironic that you never thought you'd like.

Just this morning, you woke up to another body draped over yours.

It still takes a little getting used to after centuries of being alone, too busy to have an actual relationship.

And when you tried to get up to make a stop at your house, those arms weren't letting you go anywhere.

"Beerus. I need to go to my realm-" "-No. You're warm," he muttered in his sleep. You didn't want to be rude and make him cold with your absence...wow, he's making you too soft.

Not that you really cared.

You simply made a compromise. You took him with you.

His legs were wrapped around your hips, chin tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around you as you navigated through your house. Grabbing what you needed with one hand.

"My clingy little baby," you mutter after a while, smiling to yourself. "Shut up."

He couldn't help that you were so warm and comfy.

"Hey [Name], can you grab my shirt?" Beerus half-heartedly mumbled, lazily pointing in a direction. "That's my shirt." "Same difference, I wear it more than you do anymore. Grab it, please. I want it," he whined with grabby hands.

At some point, he finally decides to wake up...

...only to hug your waist as you make lunch

You don't question his clingy-ness, usually, when you leave for your job for a while, he's extra clingy when you come back.

But you jump when his stationary hands begin to move.

"Beerus! D-don't do that when I have a knife in my hand."

"Lose it, then," he purrs.

Later that day, after those activities and lunch, Whis approaches you both in the woods.

You hardly looked over from Beerus's lap and he didn't bother to open his eyes from their relaxed state.

"Yes, Whis?"

"It seems Bulma has invited us to try Earth delicacies again. Would you like to accept her invitation?"

"Depends on what it is."

It was a good enough offer for Beerus to go.

Well, that, and you mentioned a curiosity about Earth food.

Beerus told you about it the whole way, quite pleased to feel like an expert.

Although the meeting was a little awkward.

Upon arriving, Beerus and Whis went ahead.

And when you caught up with them, you met eyes with Goku first.

Considering the last time you met, you weren't surprised he was suddenly tense.

Which made his other friends tense, one even rose their power level a bit.

Which made you laugh, loudly, "How adorable."

"L-Lord [Name]!"

You titled your head at the Saiyan a little shorter than him, "Ah, you know my commonly known title, young Saiyan?"

"Lord Beerus, look behind you!"

"You idiots, he's not a threat. He's with me!"

"I will not hurt you, earthlings, not unless you give me a reason to—Now, where is this pudding, Beerus spoke of?"

You tried a few dishes of Earth, though your speed of eating was much slower than the other non-humans. You preferred to savor your food.

And because Beerus kept feeding you some of his food.

"Here, try this, [Name]," he offered a...something.

"Sweetheart, let me try one thing at a time, okay?" but because you were whipped, you opened your mouth to try it.

"'Sweetheart'? Lord Beerus, I didn't know were with someone," Bulma hummed as she brought more food.

"Why do you sound like you're in such disbelief?!" Beerus growled.

"Wait-you both are together?"

"Goku, who asked you to snoop into our conversation?" Bulma barked across the room.

And after that...all hell broke loose.

"How did you guys...?" "When did you guys...?"

Beerus just yawned.

"I don't see Beerus being the date type."

"What even is a date?" He asked you. A shrug.

Cue the gasps from the ones who cared And now they were planning a date, great.

While they were busy planning some date, Beerus dozed off of you while you read a book.

It was peaceful until voices started to rise.

"You can't just ask the God of Life to spar with you, Kakarot!"

"But you said he's more powerful than Lord Beerus! I want to see that power for myself!" he whined.

"All you men want to do is fight!"

"But it'd be so cool!"

Your gaze flickered down when Beerus shifted, then up to the group ahead of you.

"Hey."

Their heads snapped over to you, the calmest voice of all, yet the most intimidating.

"Beerus is taking a nap. Stop all that yelling for no reason. If you wake him up I'm going to be pissed. And you don't want that. Even Beerus couldn't stop me if that happened."

"Someone's protective," Whis teased behind a hand.

"S-shut up," you scoffed, focusing on your book again.

Until you heard the words.

"We set up a date for you, two..."

[starfall-spirit]

Summary: After picking up on Violet's attraction to Liam, Xaden proposes an arrangement.

Read on Ao3

CW: Sex, light bondage, dom/sub undertones

AN: My first Violiaden fic! It was written very quickly, with little editing or fleshing out, but it's still a fun piece so I'm going to go ahead and post. Enjoy!

"I want to watch you." 

Violet quirked a brow. "Watch me?"

"I want to watch you with someone else." That confession about floored her and she found herself fumbling with the laces of her corset as she dressed for the day. Xaden approached her from behind, smoothly taking the laces from where she held them, her arms frozen at a rather uncomfortable angle, flexibility be damned. "I may act like a possessive ass at times, but I've been watching you, Violence. You can deny it all you want, but I know there's something between you and Liam."

She blinked rapidly before turning to face him as he dropped his hands from the finished knot above her tailbone. "I haven't touched him, Xaden."

"I'm not questioning your loyalty. I'm trying to figure out if you'd let him join us for a night or two."

She bit her lip, trying to gauge his sincerity. Xaden wasn't the type to test people. Not his friends, and certainly not her. Not like this. "And this night or two, we'd be doing..."

"You and I will negotiate the baseline if you say yes. I won't bring this up with Liam until I have your consent. Ultimately, I have the same end goal as usual." Her heartrate doubled as he stooped down to whisper in her ear. "I want to watch you lose control, preferably while you're filled with my brother's cock."

Holy. Fucking. Gods.

~~~~~

A smirk. A smirk was all it took for Violet to know Liam was well aware of Xaden’s proposal when he met her at her door two mornings later. “Liam.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Good morning.”

“Morning. Ready for breakfast?” She hesitated. “This is hardly the place to discuss the reason behind that look, Vi. I’m flattered by the invitation and I did accept, but if this is going to be awkward or you only said yes to make Xaden happy, then I won’t be upset with either of you for putting this behind us before anything starts.”

“I wasn’t going to—”

“Hey, thanks for waiting guys,” Rhi cut in. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“Yeah, for Tara’s—”

“Honestly, Ridoc!” It was hardly a secret and Rhi didn’t appear the least bit ashamed or embarrassed, but Violet was already on edge without thinking about other people’s sex lives. Let them think this was a best-friend-defense or something. The pair blinked back at her. “Sorry. I just need food before I deal with the morning crazy today.”

Liam snorted from beside her, but said nothing more, scanning the route ahead of them as they made their way to the mess hall. “So you really are interested?” she murmured. 

He swallowed, his jaw locking as his throat bobbed. “Violet, if you keep pushing all I’m going to be thinking about is the things I plan on doing to you tonight and I’d really like to enjoy my meal and attend formation and classes without a hard on.” She winced, feeling simultaneously guilty and turned on. “I will say this once,” Liam continued. “I am more than pleased by this arrangement so long as it’s what everyone wants. Any other concerns?” She shook her head. “Excellent. Get your food.”

~~~~~

“You’re nervous. Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Xaden. I’m not having any doubts. All of us are fine with this, but the anticipation is killing me.” 

He hummed softly, continuing his path alternating between massaging knotted muscles and peppering tender kisses over her bare back. “And as good as that feels, you aren’t distracting me. Again, he gave that quiet hum, this time parting her thighs. Oh that might help distract her. His fingers just dipped between her legs when a patterned knock fell on Xaden’s door. She rolled onto her back. “Pity,” he murmured, licking his fingers clean. “But then, this will be just as fun, won’t it?”

He grinned as he opened the door to let Liam past the wards. “Hey, come on in.” 

“Thanks.” She watched the pair closely, hunting for any signs of tension between them or hesitation on Xaden’s part. Though she hadn’t known either of them for very long, she could read them well.

This was going to work out after all. “Hey, Vi.”

She felt her face heat as he did nothing to hide his slow assessment of her bare figure. Compared to the two of them being fully dressed, it was a bit awkward. Hopefully they’d be joining her soon, before things started feeling truly embarrassing. She cocked her head as Xaden sank into a chair about five feet from the bed. 

“Don’t tell me you two are going to sit around and chat while I sit here naked.”

He chuckled softly, exchanging a look with their guest. “Violet, I’m not touching you again tonight. I’m watching, remember?”

Her mouth popped open. “There’s no way you’re actually going to be able to keep off of me while Liam and I have sex.”

His smirk broadened. “Challenge accepted, my Violence.”

“Do you two need a moment?” Liam drawled, somehow reading into the levity of their mental conversation. 

“No,” Xaden said. “Don’t mind me. The limits are set and poor Violet’s been wound up all day.”

“Believe me, brother, I noticed.”

“No reason you can’t put her out of her misery.”

The corner of Liam’s mouth tilted up, almost imperceptible in the low lighting. He cocked his head slightly, making a small noise in his throat and slowly rolling his sleeves back—fuck, didn’t he know what that kind of shit did to women—as if he was contemplating how to start in on her.

“Come here,” he finally said. She almost shivered. Though he kept his soft tone, there was no room for hesitation or defiance. No, he and Xaden were two peas in a pod when it came to that. “Violet.” She shuffled forward on her knees, instantly relaxing when he cradled the back of her neck, his long fingers tangling in her hair, already free of it’s braid thanks to Xaden. “Okay?” he murmured, anchoring his other hand at her left hip. She nodded. “Words,” he ordered in that quiet command.

“I’m okay with this.”

“Good girl.” 

Before she could say a word his mouth sealed over hers, tentative for a moment. Or perhaps she was the one hesitating, because only a moment later he was adjusting the angle of the kiss, the stroke of his fingers dropping from her hip to rest between her thighs, the friction there and the soft sweep of his tongue coaxing her to give into him entirely. She whimpered, leaning into his steadiness, yet aching to be drawn higher.

She’d grown so used to the wild desperation she and Xaden shared that she was slightly off kilter now, both pleased by the change and all sorts of needy for more. Frustrated he wasn’t letting the intensity of the kiss grow further, she aimed for the one thing she could control, snaking her hand between them to try to stroke her clit. Liam caught onto that too, his grip around her wrist just firm enough to keep her hand pinned behind her.

Dragging his tongue against the roof of her mouth, he drew back. “This,” he began, cupping her center, “is mine tonight. Did I give you permission to touch what’s mine?”

Brothers indeed.

“Answer him, Violet,” Xaden growled from his chair. 

“No. I wasn’t given permission.”

The consequences were already making themselves known, bands of shadow folding her arms behind her back so her fingertips were brushing the opposite elbow. She pouted, wanting to touch him freely. “Be a very good girl for me and I might ask Xaden to let your hands free.” Without warning, he sank two fingers deep into her core. “Soaked for me, needy thing.”

“Liam, let me come, please.”

“Begging already?” He hummed softly, drawing out a squeal as he swept her off her knees and pressed her flat to the mattress, careful not to strain her arms. Xaden already had the thought to redirect his shadows, pinning her arms over her head. “Good things come to those who wait, Violet. Believe me when I say I’m going to take my sweet time with you.”

His fingers slid home once more, pumping in and out of her as he urged her to spread wider, making room for him to dip his head, his tongue flicking out and tugging her closer to the high she was so desperate to reach. She clenched hard and he paused, letting her fall away before reaching her climax. “No!” she wailed. 

Gods, he was a fucking sadist.

She let out another cry as he lifted one leg over his shoulder, holding her open so she was forced to take the next round, his fingers curling and his tongue stroking deep enough her thoughts could only come in fragments. She was so fucking ready. “Liam!” His teeth pinched down on her clit and she shattered, her orgasm rolling through in sharp waves. 

“Go on. She’s ready.” She gave another deep groan, still trembling as the rustle of clothing fell away and Liam’s fingers were replaced by something much thicker. “Such a good girl, taking his cock so well.”

“T-told you you couldn’t stay away.” She groaned again, surrendering to the sensations around her, Xaden’s nails scraping over her scalp as Liam dragged in and out of her, agonizingly slowly. Realizing her hands were free again, she reached for Xaden’s waist. “I want you both. Please?”

He smiled down at her. “Who am I to deny you when you ask so nicely.”

It only took a moment to maneuver them, getting her in a position she could tilt her head back over the edge of the bed. It gave Liam and Xaden full control over what happened, even without shadows pinning her. Xaden stripped out of his clothes. “You won’t have much control like this, sweetheart. If it’s too much I want you to pinch me, okay?”

“I will. I trust you both, Xaden.”

His worry softened to pure adoration. “I know, sweetheart. But I take no risks with you if I can help it. Ready?”

She nodded, dropping her head back as Liam slid into her once again, a little sigh leaving her as Xaden slipped his thumb past her lips, coaxing her open. “Our perfect girl.”

Her eyes fluttered shut as he guided his tip past her lips, gliding over her tongue. She dropped her jaw, opening her throat as best as she could. “Good, Violet. Doing so well for us.” That came from Liam this time. She liked pleasing them both. He jerked his hips without warning, startling her enough she lost her rhythm and Xaden once again had to center her.

She let herself go, focusing only on what would bring Xaden to the edge with her, accepting the overload of sensations as they increased their pace, bringing her to her second orgasm. Neither of them had finished yet. And they seemed deadset on pulling another out of her. She whined softly. “You’re doing so good, baby,” Xaden encouraged her. In all honesty, she was hardly doing anything to pleasure him anymore. “This isn’t about me sweetheart. You’re giving us everything and more right now. All I need you to do is give in to what your body is telling you.”

“I can’t come again.”

“You can, Violet. You’re gonna come one more time, sweetheart.” Another whimper left her. She wanted to obey. To please them. “I know you’re feeling a lot, baby. So I don’t want you to try and think anymore. I want you to close those pretty eyes and let your body tell you what to do. You’re not going to fight what your body needs. You’re going to let Liam and I take care of you.”

“Just relax, sweetheart,” Liam said, cradling her hips as he quickened his pace. She was getting closer, riding the edge as they alternated their movements, setting a rhythm that would let them all finish without jostling her too much. She was lost in it, pride filling her as Xaden let out a sharp breath, spilling down her throat. She clenched around Liam, hard, not bothering to muffle her scream as they took her over again, Liam deep inside her as he finally snapped. “Fuck.”

He leaned down, his breath rattling softly as he kissed her brow before easing out of her and letting Xaden step back in to cradle her against his chest. “Can you get that water off the dresser?”

She peeled her eyes halfway open as Xaden shifted her in his arms. “Here, sweet girl,” Liam said. “Water first. Then you can have some chocolate, hm?” She didn’t bother trying to grab the glass herself since Liam seemed so keen on hand feeding her the water and candy. “Good girl. Rest now.”

She sunk down into the pillows, relishing the warmth the men on either side of her seemed to radiate. “You’ll stay?”

There was a heavy pause and she peered up to find him waiting for Xaden’s cue. “This shouldn’t be… just one time. I like you here.”

“Sleep, Violet,” Xaden finally said. “We’ll both be right here all night.”

She sighed. “Good.”

[cynicalrosebud]

Incorrect Quotes 6: Alex Has a Massive Di-

Alex and Farah Edition

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

Alex: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Y/n: Can everyone in this godforsaken war please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"?

Farah: Ya know... it might be.

Farah: Alex, take out the trash.

Alex: Sure, Y/n, will you go out on a date with me?

Y/n, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe?

Farah: Yeah, sure.

*A few minutes later*

Farah: Here you go.

Y/n:

Farah:

Alex: Why am I here?

*Farah is telling a story*

Alex: Wow, Farah, this story has everything! Action! Adventure! Romance!

Y/n: Romance?

Alex: I have a crush on her.

Y/n, to Alex and Farah: *holding knife out in front of them* Are you or are you not an enemy of the people?!

Alex: ...

Farah: ...

Alex: That is such an open-ended question.

Farah: Yeah, it really depends on a lot of different factors-

Y/n: Is this your plan B?

Alex: Technically, this is plan P.

Y/n: Plan P? Is there a plan M?

Alex: Yes, but I marry you both in plan M.

Farah: I like plan M.

Farah: *trying to get five seconds of sleep*

Alex, poking Farah’s arm: Farah Farah. Farah. Farah.

Farah: WHAT?

Alex: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Alex: Farah’s gonna kill me.

Y/n: No, she'll probably make me do it.

Y/n: Are you alright with constructive criticism? I don't want to sound mean.

Alex: No, go ahead. I want to hear it.

Y/n: It sucks.

Alex: That's not constructive criticism.

Y/n: Farah, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?

Farah: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later.

Y/n: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Alex.

Farah: Wait- Y/n, no-

[homeofatlas]

Friends, Right?

Authors note: this is a longer fic it’s 2.7k. We need more elisa fics and i had the time so i hope you all like it. Also sorry this isnt as aesthetically pleasing as some of yours with the pictures and the headers. It’s 1:30 am, i just finished this no editing we die like men!

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

Since joining the PSGs feminine team you had made good friends with most of the girls. But there was one in particular who you had become great friends with, Elisa. Before you knew that you two would come to be such great friends you’d found her cute. Now knowing how compatible you two were, it felt impossible to be around her and not fall deeper into love with her as you spent more time together.

This is what made it so hard to admit that while you were falling for her more every time you saw her, she didn’t reciprocate your feelings. Sure there were times when she was leaving where she’d linger longer than was perhaps strictly normal but that was how female friendships worked. It was perfectly normal to hug three times for at least 10 seconds before she actually left and for her to press a kiss to your forehead when you guys were watching a movie. You liked to see things that weren’t there. Your crush on Elisa was clouding your judgement. And if you stayed up late thinking about those lingering hugs…..well that was no one's business but your own.

One morning she came to pick you up because your car was in the shop. As a thanks to her you paid for your morning smoothies and shared the protein bars you packed so you could snack through the day. While in the car elisa rests her right arm on the middle console focusing on the long stretch of road ahead of her. Softly some song from her playlist wafts through the car gently lulling you into a half state of awareness. Vaguely you’re aware the car has stopped and you should start moving but right as you're about to wake yourself up, elisa speaks to you from the driver's seat.

“Y/n?” She whispers.

You blink your eyes open to see you’re already there.

Your eyes slide over to where elisa is softly gazing at you. She looks at you in the way you sometimes imagine you must look when you’re trying to memorise her every feature for when it’s no longer yours to gaze at. The look on her face leaves you breathless, it times like this where you feel like she might reciprocate your feelings. And then the spell breaks and she blinks her gaze away from you to look out the wind shield again, her face wiped as clean as it can be this early in the morning.

“Come on we’re gonna be late” She says and opens her car door.

Just friends, right?

A week later during a game she trips another player and gets yellow carded. Now while Elisa has a reputation for……revelling in the physical side of the game this time you have to agree this girl had it coming. Constantly backing up into Elisas space and generally crowding her was one way to get the brunette in an angry mood. As Elisa begins to get angrier while talking to the ref your teammates signal you to come and get her off the field. Running over to her you catch her forearm and cut off her swearing at the referee who could not look more phased if she tried.

“Elisa let it go, she had it coming but theres nothing we can do about it now right? You’re just going to piss the ref off even more and that doesn’t work in anyone's favour.”

Heaving, she finally turns her head towards you. With the bright stadium lights on her, you can see every droplet of sweat shining on her face. You’re so far gone for her instead of thinking its gross you think it’s a product of her hard work, it’s beautiful. Her nose is shining with the perspiration and she’s never looked better, except maybe in her pjs on the couch. You two lock eyes and have a silent conversation, pleading with her to come with you. Finally her gaze drops from your eyes to your lips to where your hand is still wrapped around her forearm. Her gaze flicks back up to your eyes shining with worry. Her shoulders drop and she begins to move towards the sidelines where you’ve just come from. You let go of her forearm and walk slightly behind her. You can feel the energy radiating off her. She slows to let you catch up and as you fall into step with her you feel her fingers brush yours a couple times before she interlocks your fingers and tightly. All the pent up energy is going into holding your hand and pulling you to the side. As you sit down on the bench she continues to clutch your hand while staring intensely onto the field.

“Elisa? You’re welcome to hold my hand to soothe yourself but if I could switch to the other hand that would be great.” You say once she calmed down slightly.

Still not speaking she slowly loosens her grip on your hand. True to your word you give her the other hand, this time using the hand closest to her you gently rub your hand in soothing circles on her back to help calm her down. Over time you feel her begin to relax against you and your touch until the end of the game when she gets up to change and get ready to go home. But you’re just Friends, Right?

Two weeks after that you and a couple of the girls are out at a bar celebrating a win and no training in the morning. You’re on your first drink that tastes slightly fruity which you’ve been sipping on for a while now. You’re feeling warm and fuzzy surrounded by the people who love you the most in the world. Elisa sits next to you occasionally glazing around but otherwise focused on the conversation at hand. Her arm is thrown around the backs of your chairs, her fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder.

“So if you had to pick someone on the team to date, who would you date?” Sakina giggles.

Having just taken a sip of your drink you gag slightly and sputter, meeting the mischievous twinkling eye of Sakina Karchaoui. She knows exactly what she’s just done. Although you haven't told anyone outside of one person who’s not even in the soccer world Sakina seems to have picked up on your little (massive, gigantic, personally might go as far as to say in love) crush on Elisa. By the way she’s making eyes at the other girls it's clear they’ve been let in on the message and are giggling at your demise too. Out of the corner of your eye you see Elisa spit some of her drink out back into her cup upon hearing the comment. Although you avoid looking at her in the slightest you feel the shift in weight beside you as she leans away from you and tucks her arm back into herself.

“Probably you Sakina, we’re pretty good friends and we’d be compatible enough I think” Elis answers in a semi dry tone.

Your stomach sinks. Even if she was forced into dating someone on the team it still wouldn’t be you. The jealousy leaves you slightly nauseous and your cheeks feel like they’re on fire.

Sakina is clearly waiting for an answer and burning holes into your head.

“Um,” you begin to answer “I’m not sure I think I see you all as more of sisters than anything else.”

You see Elisa who’d previously been intently and quietly eyeing you since you started speaking, begin to fidget and mutter something about drink before she gets up and takes her half full glass with her up to the bar. As soon as you feel she’s gone the rest of the table erupts into giggles.

“Really Sakina could you have been anyone more obvious about it? Why not tattoo Y/n has a crush on elisa on my forehead, i’m sure that would have been a less painful situation”

“Please Y/n relax I wouldn’t have said anything if i didn’t think there was a chance she liked you back-”

“Well you heard it straight from the source that she doesn’t so can we just drop it? Please? I'd like to forget that I'm in love with my best friend for one night.”

Sakinas face falls and she looks sorry. You feel bad for snapping at her but Elisa can’t know about your crush. It would ruin your relationship and you aren’t ready to let her go yet. You begin to scan the bar for Elisa. You see her standing at the bar facing a pretty blonde girl who’s got her hand on your- Elisas bicep. The blonde is leaning into her space and laughing at whatever joke Elisas just told based on the smile on her face. She’s cool looking, she's blonde, beautiful, got a sleeve of tattoos, and looks gorgeous next to elisa. The sight makes your stomach churn. Suddenly any chance of salvation of the good mood you had is gone and you’re as sober as you can be. Elisa is clearly interested based on her body language, why wouldn’t she be? It's not like you're together. So Elisa can take her home to the flat you’ve been in and have sex with her on the couch you’ve been on or the bed you’ve had sleepovers in or on the counter where you’ve cooked together and that's fine. You were going to have to get used to seeing Elisa with someone else eventually. It’s just that maybe deep down you had been hoping you weren’t just friends after all, But tonight has shattered that illusion and thank god because you needed to get over it, is what you’re telling yourself.

Following your line of sight Sakinas face falls into one of pity for you.

“Don't Sakina. It was going to happen eventually and I need to get over it.”

You glance over again to see Elisa looking over at you while she stands with the blonde woman, you try to give her an encouraging nod and something you hope looks like a smile. To be honest you don't really want to be out right now in these jeans and this itchy sweater, you want to go home.

“Honestly guys…..I think I'm just gonna go home and watch a movie but thanks for coming out tonight.”

The girls give you a sad look as you pick your coat up from the back of your chair and grab your bag. As you walk to the door you have to walk past the bar, brushing past elisa she doesn’t even turn her head to acknowledge you as you step out into the cold night.

The drive home felt the longest it ever had. Peeling off your layers of clothing and getting into your at home sweatpants had never felt so great. Although it isn’t a part of your diet you figured tonight called for some sweet treat therapy. Set up on the couch as you’re flipping through movies on netflix deciding which garbage film you can try not to cry to there's a familiar rap on your door.

You pause.

Another soft knock.

“Y/n? Cherie?Open the door please.”

No response.

“Unless you’ve gone to bed but i can see the lights so please come up the door.”

You slowly make your way up off the couch, placing your sweet treat on your coffee table.

As you stand before the door you can hear her breathing from the other side, you can feel her warmth and energy radiating through the door, it’s like nothing can keep her fro. You. You’ll never escape from her. A fresh set of tears springs to your eyes but you quickly swallow them before unlocking and opening the door.

Elisa looks like she’s been thoroughly made out with or at least something was running through her hair continuously. How dare she, you think, come to me after being with someone else, isn’t my love enough? You swallow it down and force the door open wider for her to slip inside and close the flat door behind her. Now in harsh overhead lighting you can see the panic, bewilderment, and sadness lurking in her brown eyes.

She opens her mouth and closes it a couple times before finally croaking out, “You left and you didn’t say goodbye.”

“You were a little busy at the moment and i wasn’t feeling well so i came home.”

“You aren't feeling well? Is there something i can do or something i can get for you?”

“No I just,” You sigh and rub your hands over your face before looking up at her “I’m tired so I came home.”

“Oh okay well did you want me to stay? We can watch *insert your comfort movie/tv show*!”

The sight of her dishevelled hair and clothing is making you more angry and sad by the minute. All you want to do is give her a set of your sweats and have her wear your clothing but this has to stop. O more blurry lines it hurts too much.

The tears feel like they’re hiding right beneath the surface as you say, “Elisa honestly I'm really tired I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Okay well I’ve had drinks so maybe i can stay over and tomorrow morning we can go for brunch and a walk-”

“Elisa, Enough!”

“What?”

Oh here comes the word vomit.

“You can’t just make out or sleep with someone else and then come over here and expect us to go to brunch and on scenic walks and watch movies snuggled up on the couch and can’t do it anymore, I can't do this anymore!” You finish.

Elisas brown eyes are wide with shock and she looks hurt by the time you’ve finished.

Her eye brows furrow and her lips purse in, she reaches out slightly to grab your arm which is hanging at your side but misses and brushes the side of your hip where your shirt has begun to ride up. Her warm palm against your cold skin feels like the best thing in the world right now, all you want to do is take it all back but the way she’s looking at you now like she doesn’t understand what you mean hurts you more than it will ever hurt her.

“Elisa, i think you should go”

“No” She shakes her head as she sways forward slowly inching into your space. You should not be letting her in but what's one last time right? Her hand comes up to rest on the cold path of skin near your hip and the other one wraps around your shoulders. She presses kisses to the top of your head while gently rocking. She takes a deep inhale before releasing you and looking at you face to face.

“Y/n, look at me” She looks more sober than she did before when she pulls back. “I did not sleep or make out with anyone nor do I want to unless it’s with you. My hair looks like this because I was worried about you leaving without saying goodbye. I was running my hands through it the whole way here. The girl you saw me with in the bar? I wouldn’t care if she was aphrodite because I love you. I want you. I know this isn’t a good time but I’m sick of not saying anything and having almost moments. This is our moment, if you want it to be. I love you.”

Her eyes peer deep into yours looking for the same sentiment but instead you cup her face with your hands and bring your noses up to brush. As your noses bump into each other and your lips brush you whisper “I love you too” and kiss her. The fuzzy warm feeling runs from your head to your toes heating you up all over. As you pull away both of you smile largely and you lay your head on her chest as you stand there and hug for as long as you want because as it turns out you aren’t just Friends, Right?

[hischierdevils]

Forget You | N.H.

note: part four of the forget series!

summary: nico finds out who your ex is

warning: slight angst

wc: 1.9K

Breaking your lease is a lot easier than you thought it would be. Your best friend Abby helps you pack up your things as you close a chapter on your life. “I can’t believe we’re not going to be neighbors anymore. What am I going to do without you?” She pouts as she tapes a box shut for you. 

“You’re my best friend, Abby.” You remind her. “You’re still going to see me.” 

“But you’re not right down the hall anymore.” She flops onto your bare mattress. “Who am I supposed to call with boy problems?” 

“You can still call me.” You tell her as you pack the last of your items into a box. “And I thought you and Anthony were good?” Her and Anthony have been on and off again since they met. The same night you met Mat. 

“We are, right now. But lately…” She trails off as she looks at you, deciding if she should tell you something. Before she gets a chance to, Nico walks through the front door slightly out of breath. 

“Please tell me this is the last of it.” He says as he takes his hat off his head to fix his hair underneath. 

“Regret asking me to move in yet, Ni?” You grin as you walk over to hug his sweaty body as he places his hat back on his head. 

“I regret not hiring movers.” He says after placing a kiss on your forehead. “Never you.” 

“Well no one asked me if I approved of this move.” Abby says as she stands up. “You’re taking her all the way to New Jersey! I want custody, Nico.” 

Nico laughs at your best friend. “You are more than welcome anytime.” 

“Um, call ahead and make sure we have clothes on, please.” You interject. 

“Noted.” Abby smiles before pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “I love you guys so much.” As she pulls away from you, she glares at Nico. “If you hurt her, I'll hurt you.” 

Nico smirks at the small blonde and opens his arms for a hug from her. “I'll never hurt her, I promise.” He winks at you as Abby gives him a quick hug. “She’s my girl.”

You didn’t give your apartment a second glance as you and Nico left it for the final time that day. The memories of you and Mat were now behind you. Nico was your future and you couldn’t wait to make new memories with him. 

It takes the two of you less than a week to fall into a comfortable rhythm with each other. After practically living together all summer, you already knew most of each other’s quirks. On Tuesday nights Abby would come over and have dinner with the two of you. Every other Friday you would go into the city and have a girls night with her. 

Pre-season began and you learned that not everything between you and Nico could be perfect all the time. Your schedules were different now that he was at the rink more and you were eating many meals alone. An argument arose one night when you got home from a long day of editing only to find that the leftovers you were thinking about all day weren’t in the fridge.

“Nico!” You cried out in frustration. 

“Yes?” He joined you in the kitchen quickly with shaving cream still on his face, recognizing the stress in your voice. 

“I had pasta in the fridge.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Where is it?” 

He frowns at you. “I ate it when I got home.” He sheepishly admits. “I was hungry.”

“Well now I'm hungry!” Hot tears of frustration line your eyes and you quickly wipe them away. “What am I supposed to eat? All you have is healthy shit!”

“You live here too, y/n!” He raises his voice slightly, making you flinch. “It’s not just my shit.” 

You roll your eyes, too frustrated to say anything. Nico shakes his head before walking back into the bathroom. Frustration tears continue to fall as you cut up a pomegranate and place it into a bowl, walking over to the couch to eat it. 

Ten minutes later, Nico walks out of your bedroom fully dressed and heads to the door. “I’ll be back.” Is all he says as he reaches for his keys. 

“Wait!” You practically fall off the couch in your effort to get to him. “Please don’t leave!” Nico freezes with his hand on the doorknob as you stand before him and cry. “I’m so sorry. I was just frustrated. I-please don’t leave me.” Your lower lip wobbles and he pulls you flush to his chest. 

“Baby, I was just going to get you food since I ate your dinner.” He explains as he smooths your hair down your back. “I’m going to come back.” 

“I-I thought…” You pause to gather yourself. Mat would leave at the first sign of trouble, always. Sometimes he’d ignore you and not come back for days. He’d claim he didn’t want to argue with you but it made you very wary of showing any sort of emotion around him. “...you were mad at me.” 

“Hey, it’s okay y/n.” Nico places his hand underneath your chin and tilts your head up so he can look at you. “Couples argue, it’s normal. I’m not going to leave just because we raised our voices a little.” 

You nod, too afraid to say anything else. Nico isn’t Mat. You know that. But sometimes it’s hard to override that trauma response. Nico bends his head down to kiss you. “Why don’t you go take a bath and I'll get you dinner?” 

“I don’t deserve you.” You tell him honestly as you pull away from him.

He chases your mouth with his before giving you a quick peck. ““Ich liebe dich.” 

“I love you too.” 

Things are so good between you and Nico that you don’t give a second thought to the fact that the Devils are playing the Islanders tonight at home. Abby is attending the game since her and Tito are on-again and she texts you all day sending you outfit options. You get to the prudential center before Nico to do some editing and you don’t see him again until warm-ups. 

Nico skates over to you, placing one gloved hand against the glass as soon as he sees you by the bench. You smile at him, bringing your own hand up to the other side. He mouths ‘I love you’ in German and you mouth it back before he skates off. 

During the national anthem you stand between the benches with Erika, trying to take some pictures of the guys. Feeling eyes on you, you look up to see Mat Barzal staring at you. He smiles when you finally look at him but you turn your attention away from him, not wanting to give him the time of day. As the game starts and you blow a kiss to Nico, you realize that you should’ve told him who Mat was to you. 

During the first intermission, you unblock Mat and draft out a text to him. You hesitate over the send button before Abby comes up beside you. “It’s going well!” She says happily. 

You delete the text and put your phone back in your pocket. “It’s tied 1-1.” 

“Yeah, but our men are doing great!” She smiles at you. “It’s weird to have men on different teams, huh?” 

“Abby, Nico doesn’t know.” You admit. 

“Doesn’t know what?” She furrows her brows at your nervous expression. “About you and Mat?”

You nod. “He knows I have a bad ex but I never told him who it was…” 

She bites her lip. “Everything’s been fine so far…maybe it will be okay.”

You knew it wasn’t going to be okay the moment you saw Nico and Mat headed out for the face off during the second period. Nico wins the draw but Mat quickly pins him on the wall. You watch in shock as their gloves go flying and Mat swings on Nico. Thankfully it gets broken up quickly and both of them are sent to the box. 

During the next intermission, you get a text from Nico. 

From: Lover ♥️

Would’ve been nice to know about Barzal

To: Lover ♥️

I didn’t think it would matter now

From: Lover ♥️

That I was playing against your piece of shit ex? He said shit about you y/n. 

To: Lover ♥️

I’m sorry. Just ignore him.

From: Lover ♥️

I’m not going to let him disrespect you but we need to talk

You’re a ball of pure anxiety as you watch the clock in the third period wind down. Nico and Mat haven’t been on the ice for longer than a few seconds since the incident but you can see Mat chirping Nico any chance he gets. After the game, you say goodbye to Abby before heading home alone. You’ve convinced yourself that Nico is going to break up with you by the time he gets home. 

‘Why didn’t you wait for me?” He asks as he walks into the bedroom to find you packing a bag. “Where do you think you’re going?” He begins unpacking your things as he waits for you to answer him. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” You sniffle as you pick up your clothes he threw out of your bag. 

“Baby, come here.” He reaches for your wrist and tugs you down to the bed so you’re sitting side by side. “I love you. Am I a little upset with you? Yes, but I'm not leaving and neither are you. We’re going to get through this together.” He holds both of your hands as he looks at you.

You bite your lip to keep it from wobbling as you look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Mat was my ex. I was just trying to forget about him and I didn’t think it would matter now anyways.” 

“He didn’t forget you.” Nico mutters. “It just would’ve been nice having a warning going into that faceoff.”

“I’m sorry.” You say again, not sure of what he wants to hear. 

“No more secrets, okay? We tell each other everything.” He presses his forehead to yours. “Deal?” 

You kiss him. “Deal.” 

Nico gets up to use the bathroom and you had just begun putting your clothes away when your phone starts ringing. You know who it is without having to look. 

“Why are you calling me?” You answer.

“I’m sorry.” Mat blurts out. 

“For hitting my boyfriend or for treating me like shit?” You roll your eyes. It’s been months. Why does he care now?

The word boyfriend doesn’t go unnoticed. “So it’s serious?” 

“It’s not a secret, yeah.” You sigh. “Why do you care?”

“I miss you and I'm sorry. If you’d give me another chance I’d do it right.” You know it’s bullshit.

“I love him, Mat.” You hope the words hurt him.

“Does he remind you of me?” He asks. “You traded one thirteen for another.”

“He’s nothing like you, thank god. I’ll never allow another man to treat me the way you did.” Your voice waivers for a moment as the emotions you feel for Nico overwhelm you. “Don’t call me again.” You hang up as Nico walks back in. 

“Who was that?” He asks you. 

“No one.” You respond. “Let’s go to bed.”

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 5 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 2110

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

Act I, Chapter 5 - The Visitors

The new campsite was a small peninsula, with a waterfall feeding the stream that curved around the site. A small bridge of rocks led to a ruined building, the stones worn by time and covered with moss. There were rocks and boulders surrounding the area that would be a great defense in case of danger. Wyll had mentioned that at least one of them would be staying with you at all times to patrol the campgrounds, so you felt safe. 

However, your companions had warned you against wandering too far from camp without one of them coming with you, as there could be goblins roaming around. 

Setting up the tents with Wyll and Karlach was actually a fun experience. The two of them, despite you telling them to rest, went ahead and built their own tents. You had an inkling that they just wanted to pick out a good spot at the campsite. When you found them helping with each other’s tents, you smiled to yourself and left them alone. 

As you finished setting up everything else, you had an epiphany. Going back to Karlach's tent, you found her laying on her bedroll outside, dozing. She opened one eye as you approached. 

"Could I test something on your tent?"

"Sure." Then both her eyes sprung open and she sat up excitedly. "Are you going to make it cooler?!" 

You winked at her before walking inside. Within the dim confines, you reversed your warmth cantrip. Stepping backwards carefully, you sang the spell softly, moving your hands, weaving the coldness into the air. Light blue lines appeared, threads of magic coming from your fingers, until you finished the cantrip and clapped twice. Snowflakes burst from your hands, and you felt the air cool immediately. 

Sticking your head out from the tent, you waved her in. By now Wyll had joined her, and together they stepped inside. 

"Oh my days," Karlach squealed with delight. "It's lovely in here, just perfect!" 

Wyll grinned, looking happy for her. "A bit too cold for me, but I'm glad you're enjoying it." He looked over at you. "Thank you. You're very thoughtful."

You smiled. "Just trying to keep you all comfortable," you replied. "Oh, but if something goes wrong, please let me know so I can fix it," you added as you left them to enjoy the results of your test. 

***

When the others returned, you were not at all surprised to see a man coming with them. He introduced himself as Volo, claiming to be some kind of bard.

Is he…? He couldn’t be…?

“Are you the Volo of ‘Volo’s Guide to Waterdeep’?” you asked.

The man’s eyes lit up and his smile could not be broader. “Why yes, I am that Volo!” He came up to you, grabbed your hand with both of his, and shook it vigorously. You were glad you were still wearing your gloves; you had the feeling that you would have been overwhelmed by his excitement at meeting someone who knew his work.

“Tell me, did you enjoy the guide? Which version did you read? What was your favorite part?”

Overwhelmed by his rapid fire questions, you pulled your hand out of his and held it up to stop him. “I found it, erm, entertaining,” you said neutrally. It was full of shit, but it was amusing to read. “I read the second edition when it came out. My employer had one in his library.”

You saw Gale glance over at you. Shit. Now he knew you spent time in Waterdeep as well. Dammit, he’s probably going to ask me about it later. I might as well just give away my entire life’s story while I’m at it.

After hearing Volo’s self-aggrandizing tales for a minute too long, you eventually got out of the conversation by using your chores as a way to flee. 

Guess we have another mouth to feed. Better send someone to hunt something big.

***

One by one, more visitors came. In the early evening as supper was winding down, a white dog came by. It sniffed the adventurers, wagging its tail and lolling its tongue happily as everyone took turns scratching his head and patting his side.

Then the dog looked at you. He tilted his head.

You took a mostly eaten rib from the boar that Karlach had brought for you to roast, and knelt down, holding it out to him.

He came up warily, sniffed the bone, then took it from your hand and started gnawing away.

“Have you all decided on a name?” you asked the group.

They glanced at each other and shrugged.

“You can name him,” Karlach said. “He’ll probably be staying with you most of the time, after all.”

Oh, thanks for the added responsibility. But you weren’t actually annoyed; he was a charming dog. Wondering what to name him, you idly reached out to pet his head.

Scratch.

You blinked. You weren’t sure who said that, as the voice was faint and unfamiliar. As you looked back at the dog, he was staring up at you.

Scratch.

“Scratch?”

He barked and wagged his tail.

“I guess that’s his name now,” Shadowheart said.

You got up, but kept your eyes on the dog, who was gnawing the bone again.

Curious.

***

The next visitor triggered your tripwire late at night. The bell chimed softly until you awoke, pushing yourself up.

Your heart stopped.

A creature came crawling out of the brush. You couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as it came closer to the campfire embers, you saw the feathers, the beak, the round body…

What the hell is an owlbear cub doing here? Where is its mother? Oh gods, what do I do?

You stayed stock still, watching it slowly approach you. Then it paused. And turned back towards the path out of the camp. Your eyes followed, and you saw Astarion returning from his night hunt.

The owlbear cub went towards him instead.

No, little cub! He’ll drink you!

You moved to stop the cub, but you stopped when you saw Astarion kneel down and speak softly to it. Then he led it towards the camp rations, pulled out a piece of dried meat, and tossed it at the cub, who ate it ravenously.

The soft look on Astarion’s face gave you pause. Is this a shapeshifter? Who is this man?

Unable to stop your curiosity, you got up and quietly tiptoed over to them. Though you tried to be careful, the owlbear saw you approach and suddenly fled back into the darkness.

“What was that?”

“Hm? Oh, we rescued him from some goblins. Karlach convinced everyone to let it sniff our hands so it could find its way here.”

“But what about its mother?”

“It’s dead.”

He didn’t elaborate on how or why, and quite frankly, you were too damn tired to ask. You just shook your head and went back to your bedroll.

How many more visitors will we have?

***

“Want to come to the druids’ grove with us?”

You had just finished the morning chores, so it was perfect timing. You readily agreed to Wyll’s suggestion. Although some of the party didn’t seem too keen on you getting closer to possible danger, especially with some of the druids acting uncharacteristically hostile, Wyll convinced them that overall, the grove was safe.

So he, Astarion, Karlach, and Gale took you to the grove so you could trade for supplies and get out of camp for a little while.

As they continued to comb the area for information, you talked with the vendors and bartered for supplies. You even took a turn at cooking, even if it only turned out to be just barely edible. You could only do so much with whatever the lady had put together. You weren’t a miracle worker, after all.

As you explored the grove, you heard singing off in the distance. Following the sound, you came out of the caves and into a sunlit cove by the water. A small boy was walking towards the song, seemingly entranced.

You quickly realized that he was entranced. 

Sprinting towards the water, you reached out for him. “Wait, come back—”

A shadow flew overhead, and a figure landed before the boy on the shoreline.

Harpies.

You furrowed your brow. You could turn back, get help.

But then the boy would be alone.

Dammit.

You only had a dagger you didn’t know how to use and a few herbs in your bag.

The harpy on the shoreline looked at you and grinned. Then she opened her mouth and sang.

You covered your ears, but it didn’t cancel the effect. It was a beautiful song, so much so that you nearly succumbed. But you resisted, even as your nose bled with the effort.

Suddenly four bodies flew past you. The party had arrived just in time, firing arrows and spells at the harpy in front of the boy, distracting her long enough so that you could run up to the boy and pull him out of harm’s way. As you ran back towards the cave with him, tugging on his hand whenever he started to stray, you could hear spells being thrown, splashing and fighting. And through it all, one of the harpies kept singing. Your nose kept bleeding, even as you got further away.

When you finally got the boy back inside the cave and out of range of the harpy’s song, you rushed back, despite knowing how dangerous it was. Wiping the blood off your face with your sleeve, you analyzed how the song worked. There was power in song, magic in melody. You didn’t have the skill to fight.

But you could sing.

When you returned, you could see that the others were beginning to fall to the harpy’s harmful harmonies. You hoped that you had figured out enough. Furrowing your brow, you took a deep breath.

And you sang the song in counterpoint.

The others shook their heads as the mental hold on them came undone. They looked back at you in shock for a moment, surprised by your return. Then they realized that they could think clearly again, and charged the last two harpies, taking them down with a vengeance.

With victory came looting, and with looting, came a gift. Gale came up to you with a small bag of gold.

“Thank you for your help. Here’s your share of the spoils,” he said, handing it to you. Then he put his hands on his hips and frowned at you, looking very much like a stern disciplinarian. “Although it was very foolhardy and you should never get close to danger again.”

You rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t that close.”

Karlach joined Gale. “Close enough. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

You turned to Wyll, who just nodded in agreement. You fumed at being treated like a child, but part of you knew they were right. After all, you really didn’t know how to fight.

“Alright,” you said glumly.

Wyll and Gale patted your arm as they walked past you, back into the cave. Karlach just gave you a thumbs up and a grin.

Suddenly you felt a warm body behind you.

“You fool,” Astarion breathed into your ear.

You turned to him, anger firing through your veins. “I came back to help!”

“You’re no help if you’re dead,” he countered. “Besides, you’ll make everyone else sad if you get hurt.”

You gritted your teeth. You knew he was right, and you also knew he was using your emotions against you to do what he wanted.

For a moment, you hated him for it. 

You finally let out a defeated sigh. “I got it. I won’t put myself in danger again.”

“Good.” He glanced at the blood on your sleeve where you had wiped at your bloody nose. “I can’t have my sweet snack losing any of her precious blood, after all.”

You glared.

He smiled airily as he stepped back, gesturing for you to follow the others. As you turned and stomped away, back into the Hollow, he fell in step beside you. At first, you thought he was keeping an eye on you.

“You don’t have to stand so close,” you bristled.

Astarion shrugged. “Someone has to make sure you don’t do anything foolish.”

He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the trip, all the way back to camp. As the rest of the day went on, you noticed that his attention wasn’t on you, but around you. Almost as though he was looking out for danger.

Was he… protecting me? No, that can’t be right.

Can it?

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

Chapter End Notes: Oh hai, this campsite is the one from the game, the wilderness one that you mostly see in Act I. Also, let me know in the comments if you’re okay with longer chapters. I’ve been breaking these up into about 2,000-ish word chunks, but I have some chapters later that will be closer to 3,000.

[mtqcomic]

decided to make some mtq incorrect quotes and thought that I'd put them here (sorry if they're out of character- incorrect quotes tend to do that sometimes no matter how much you shuffle the names to get the right characters ToT)(also I censored the swears in the quotes just in case)

Gendaen: Operation no more distractions is a go! not even 10 seconds later Gendaen: Oh, look! A butterfly! -

Gendaen: Ocàyuu, you risked your life to save me! Ocàyuu: And I’d do it again! And perhaps a third time! But that would be it.

alternatively:

Gendaen: Mysta, you risked your life to save me! Mysta: And I’d do it again! And perhaps a third time! But that would be it.

-

Eth: May Destiny (and this picture of Gendaen eating shredded cheese at 3 in the morning) be with you.

-

(they probably won't interact in canon BUT)

Gendaen: gets a text Oh! It’s Malvox. Zaïl, excitedly: Did it get me the stuff? Gendaen: Yeah, it says it got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood. Zaïl: Wow! Where did it find 12 gallons of fake blood? Gendaen: You wanted fake blood? Zaïl: Gendaen: I’ll go call Malvox.

-

(okay but this one might be canon /half joking)

Malvox: I am literally evil incarnate. Malvox: I’m not actually, I just enjoy being evil. Malvox: Which I think actually makes it even more evil because I’m making a conscious effort.

-

(he's thinking about his newest building project Eth, let the man think /lighthearted)

Eth: Are you listening to me? Gendaen: nods Eth: What did I just say? Gendaen: nods Eth: …

-

Malvox quotes are really fun because it is just so mean to everybody and there's a surprisingly large amount of quotes in the generator that are like that

Malvox: Let’s write Eth a friendly note, shall we? Dear… Incompetent… Dumb*ss…

-

based on that one post of Eth (you know which one)

Mysta: Question, how difficult would it be to bowl in a bee suit? Gendaen: Not that hard, I don't think, as long as you can move. Eth: I'd assume as hard as it is to bowl in a maid outfit. Eth: Wouldn't be any harder, but you'd get some WEIRD looks. Mysta: Are. Are you speaking from experience. Eth: No! Eth: Eth: ….Maybe.

-

Gendaen: Malvox, please calm down. Malvox: I asked for two large fries! Malvox: dumps fries onto table Malvox: But all they did was give me a MILLION F*CKING LITTLE ONES!

-

Zaïl, texting Yele: I’m a theif. Yele: Thief. Zaïl: Theif. Yele: I before E except after C. Zaïl: Thceif. Yele: No.

-

(the reunion, silly edition)

Eth: You gave me up, you let me down, you turned around, and deserted me. Gendaen: But did I make you cry? Eth: cries on the spot Gendaen: …Sh*t.

-

Zaïl: I’m a fool, not an idiot.

-

Eth: We always used to do the Wordle rather than take notes in class. Eth: To stop us the teacher would always threaten to tell us the answer if we didn’t pay attention.

-

(to be honest I have no idea what this quote is saying I got lost halfway through-)

Eth: I’m taking a look at your numbers, and it doesn’t look good. You have a lot of measurements. Quite a few variables. Mysta: Is that… bad? Eth: Variables are the #1 risk factor for outcomes. The past is a big contributor to the future. Mysta: Isn’t that just causality? Eth: Causality is the leading cause of death in this country. Mysta: So what are my odds? Eth: Do you have a family history? Mysta: Of what? Eth: Just, in general. Mysta: …Yes? Eth: Oh no.

-

Yele: Zaïl! I thought you were dead! Zaïl: No, just in deep cover. Yele: …But it was an open casket. Zaïl: It was very deep.

-

Mysta: I have an idea. Zaïl: A good idea? Mysta: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

-

Zaïl: An apple a day keeps the doctor away! Malvox: An apple a day can keep anyone away if you throw it hard enough.

-

Everyone is giving advice to Mysta Eth: It's okay to ask for help. Gendaen: You're not a burden. Malvox: Murder is okay. Yele: Your feelings matter.

-

Zaïl, over radio: Testing. Testing. Yele, can you hear me? Yele, standing next to Zaïl: I’m standing right here. Zaïl: You’re coming through good and loud. Yele: ‘Cause I’m standing right here.

-

Malvox: Regular soda is too sweet! Ocàyuu: Diet soda has a weird aftertaste! Malvox: No! Ugh, oh my goodness. Diet soda is THE BEST! It doesn't have sugar! It's SPICY! Ocàyuu: It has other weird stuff in it! I'll take REGULAR sugar in my REGULAR soda! Malvox: It's SO SWEET like it's a dessert though! Diet feels more like a drink! Ocàyuu: I'm going to physically attack you. Malvox: Which is better, Gendaen? Gendaen: Oh, I usually drink water! Ocàyuu: Wha- NO! Malvox: DISGUSTING!

-

Eth: I think I need a hug… Gendaen: Good thing I'm hug shaped! 45 minutes later Eth: You… you can let go now. Gendaen: No, I absolutely cannot.

-

I feel like if anybody were to be the therapist friend it would be Ocàyuu. She seemed pretty chill from what we've seen of her

Ocàyuu, looking at the squad: Okay, so I need to become a therapist faster.

-

Zaïl: Dang it, the printer broke while printing out Gendaen's birthday invitations. Eth: Well, what are they supposed to say? Zaïl: "Gendaen's birthday". Eth: So, what do they say instead? Zaïl: "Gendaen’s bi". Eth: Eth: Works out either way.

-

I hope that everybody teams up someday it would be SO fun to watch-

Zaïl: So don't panic but one of us is possessed by an owl…. Yele: …. Gendaen: ….. Eth: …… Mysta: ..Who? Zaïl: That's the thing we don't- Everyone stares at Mysta

-

would Zaïl play video games

Zaïl: You… you said I could trust you!! Zaïl: You said you were a GAMER!!! Malvox: Zaïl… I only play mobile games. Zaïl: NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

-

why do I feel like Gendaen was a bit of a chaos gremlin on top of all the paragon hero stuff

Gendaen: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset? Eth: No, I said "Gendaen, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

-

during the Nelun Soma'o fight

Eth: …I'm pretty sure that shield is fire-proof, or something. Mysta, eyeing the boxes of explosives: Alright, but is it explosion-proof?

-

wise words, Zaïl

Zaïl: Fruits that do not live up to their names; passionfruit, grapefruit, honeydew and dragonfruit. Zaïl: Fruits that do live up to their names? Zaïl: Orange.

-

Gendaen: I think I did fairly well on my anatomy quiz! :) Mysta: I forgot I was doing a test. Gendaen: Mysta. Mysta: I said the vertebrae was the back stick because I thought it was funny…. Eth: Mysta.

-

Gendaen: Three of the four elements are represented as types of hockey. Air hockey, ice hockey, and field hockey. Fire hockey needs to be a thing. Eth: Fire hockey absolutely does NOT need to be a thing. Mysta: Do you care NOTHING for the balance of the four elements?!

-

to be fair she is a giant hivemind brain thing

Gendaen: I'm very scary. Ocàyuu: You're about as scary as a wet kitten. Gendaen: Wet kittens are cute, at least I've got that going for me. Ocàyuu: And small. Gendaen: Gendaen: …Yeah, yeah. I guess.

-

Mysta: Okay. Hypothetically speaking, how mad would you be if I burned a hot pocket so badly it could probably fall off a ten-story building and be completely fine? Yele: Mysta, what did you do? Mysta: Take a guess.

-

Malvox: I’ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'little sh*t’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun’.

-

Eth: Um. What kind of tea is this? Mysta: I boiled gatorade.

-

Yele: We just ate. Why are you making pancakes? Mysta: For the dogs. Yele: Why are you making pancakes for the dogs? Mysta: They don't know how.

-

Mysta: Let's all agree that going up the stairs on all fours is actually the best experience on earth. Gendaen: Conversely, going down the stairs on all fours is actually the most terrifying experience on earth.

-

Gendaen: I made lightly fried fish fillets for dinner. Eth: Gendaen, It’s 1:15 am, what the f*ck. Gendaen: Do you want the lightly fried fish fillets or not. Eth: Well, I mean yeah. Gendaen: So come downstairs while they’re still hot. Eth: Wait, you just made them? Gendaen: Yeah, I wasn’t tired so I decided to make lightly fried fish fillets. Eth: Say lightly fried fish fillets one more time Gendaen.

-

I can never figure out what the possessive for the it pronouns are *faceplants* (/lighthearted)

Ocàyuu, about Malvox: Its covered in blood again. Why is it that its always covered in blood? Gendaen: Well, it looks like it's its own blood this time.

-

Mysta: on the phone Hey Eth, do you know my blood type? Eth: Of course, it's B-. Mysta: Oh, I guessed wrong. Excuse me, nurse-!

-

for some reason some of those quotes are giving Legend of Maxx energy. I can absolutely imagine Maxx saying "slunchy"

Gendaen: Problem, I can't tell if this food is over-sauced or undercooked. Zaïl: Solution, just pop it back in the oven for another 10 minutes. There's at least a 50% chance that'll fix it, right? Eth: Result? Food has somehow become unpleasantly soggy and unpleasantly crunchy at the exact same time. Mysta: No better time than this to pull out my favorite word! Slunchy! Yele: …put it away.

-

Zaïl in these quotes is kind of giving cool cousin energy

Yele: It’s Pride Month, you know what that means! Mysta: I get to eat as many Skittles as I want? Eth: What? No! What has Zaïl been telling you? Zaïl, walking in, pouring Skittles into their mouth: Taste the rainbow, b*tch.

-

I mean they do canonically have a gun

Zaïl, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

-

Malvox: I refuse to apologize for being weird or off-putting or slightly evil (or more than slightly evil). That’s actually your problem. I’m having a fantastic time!

-

Eth: We need a plan to beat them. Mysta: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food. Eth: Mysta: Judge me all you want, I get results.

-

what kind of conversations do you think they'd have

Malvox: Sometimes I like to place my hands on someone’s cheeks, look into their eyes… Malvox: …And violently jerk their head until it snaps. Gendaen: …That took an unexpected turn. Ocàyuu: So did their neck.

-

Eth: What do you three have to say for yourself? Zaïl: Gendaen: Mysta: Oops?

-

Gendaen, to the Squad: The real secret to immortality? Not dying. You want to be immortal? Okay, that’s easy. Just don’t die. That’s it. Refuse to die. There you go. Mysta: But how- Gendaen, ignoring her: “But how”, you may ask. Well, easy. Just don’t do it. Refuse to. Say “no thanks”.

-

Gendaen: Don't quote me on this, but I believe murder is illegal!

-

if Gendaen somehow convinced Eth to wear a cat maid outfit then I think this isn't entirely out of the realm of possibility either

While planning to break in somewhere Gendaen: Hey, let's do "Get Help!" Eth: What? Gendaen: "Get Help." Eth: No. Gendaen: C'mon, you love it! Eth: I hate it. Gendaen: It's great! It works every time! Eth: It's humiliating. Gendaen: Do you have a better plan? Eth: No. Gendaen: We're doing it! Eth: We are not doing "Get Help!" A Minute Later Gendaen, carrying Eth: Get help! Please! He's dying! Help him! throws Eth at guards, knocking them out Gendaen: Ahh, classic! Eth: gets up I still hate it. It's humiliating. Gendaen, laughing: Not for me, it's not.

-

aaand that's it for now I will be back with more

maybe

byeeeeeeeeeeee- *disappears in a puff of smoke*

Certified Canon ✔

[the-adoptable-marketplace]

Anthro Nue adopt-OPEN

-$60

-$5+up-tier supporters get a -$5 discount; OR higher-up supporter tiers can get a higher discount once-a month( https://www.patreon.com/Nats_Creations OR https://ko-fi.com/C0C36DPR ) -MUST be 18+ in order to purchase this design; please confirm with me that you are 18+ in order to adopt this design -Please state clearly whether you are adopting the design as-is( Gender-Neutral/Androgyne ) when claiming, or if you wan the design to have other options based on this linked reference/options menu: https://sta.sh/02dxsaleqw9s -ONCE THE EDITS HAVE BEEN MADE, THEY ARE LOCKED IN & NO FURTHER EDITS/ALTERATIONS WILL BE MADE/ACCEPTED Please comment ONLY if you are claiming to purchase Please comment ONLY if you are claiming to purchase Please comment ONLY if you are claiming to purchase GENERAL COMMENTS WILL BE HIDDEN AND IGNORED -First come first serve+comment on the adopt listing to claim -No holds/reserves longer than 12hrs -Kofi or paypal only -once your claim has been confirmed via reply, I will send to you a kofi link to send the payment to-if you do not have a kofi, please provide a paypal email I can send an invoice to -Please have payment ready within THE SAME DAY of claiming+confirmation+having an invoice sent to you, otherwise the adopt WILL go back up for sale if payment cannot be made -If I do not reply to your comment claim, or payment, it is most likely that I am either away from the computer or am asleep+I will respond/reply when I am next available -If for any reason you KNOW that you will not be able to respond/send payment within that hour, PLEASE LET ME KNOW BEFOREHAND+HOW LONG YOU WILL BE AWAY; I will go ahead & hold onto the design for you for X amount of hours if you are FOR CERTAIN still going to purchase the design; I will, however not hold the design for longer than 12hrs -Please leave THE NOTES/COMMENTS SECTION BLANK FOR ALL PAYMENTS -Please be sure to confirm to me that payment has been sent, please let me know via comment reply or PM just in case I do not get the Kofi ping for it -Any further gender alterations, backstory, name and other post-adoption alterations are entirely up to the person who adopts this character; do not ask me to make any further alterations OUTSIDE OF WHAT I ALREADY OFFER for you, they WILL be refused -You may trade/give the character away/resell later on if you no longer feel connected to them -Nothing created by me may be used in any blockchain-related technology, this includes NFTs, cryptocurrency, or future inventions in the space -Nothing created by me may be used in AI algorithms or any form of machine learning/training

[narrators-journal]

EDIT: as this is for my own practice and fun, I am excluding x readers! So any x reader asks will be answered later! The kinktober requests take a bit of priority.

It's back~ lololol what a way to announce my asks are open again. But! This is really fun and easy!

Step 1: Pick a prompt from the above list by @zutaralover94

Step 2: Send a request of that prompt with whatever ship you want and I will write it!

With that out of the way, like last year, I am gonna alter some of the prompts just for my own sanity, bc I will be SO honest, I don't know, nor do I WANT to, know how fisting works, so I'm gonna go ahead and swap some of the prompts.

Day #8 is now Sensory depravation (though you can still ask for additional threesome)

Day #17 is now teratophilia aka monsterfucking, tho I reserve the right to deny if I am uncomfy writing a specific monster, like jack frost

Day #21 is now knifeplay since it's also day 24 (unless these are two seperate terms and things)

Day #22 is now Somnophilia

and Day #28 is now Dacryphilia

Of course you can add some other kinks if you want! Go ham! So long as it follows my rules, I'm down to give it a try!

Speaking of rules, please read my request rules Here and my fandom list Here. Once you do that, send in an ask with whatever ship and prompt you want from this list! Have fun with it and let's get some wild smut out there lol!

(I'm aware this is a day early, but shhhhhhhh)

[tgm-all4one]

FAQ

Main Challenge Post

Challenge Overview

If you have any questions about any part of the challenge, please feel free to send in an ask or DM. But here are some common questions below the break. It will be updated as more questions come in:

What is the prompt?

"Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time."

Does it have to be set one year after Top Gun: Maverick?

No. While you can set it then if you would like, your creation can be set literally whenever you want. Anywhere from the Big Bang to the collapse of the universe (or beyond!).

Can I use characters from Top Gun (1986) without mentioning Top Gun: Maverick?

Absolutely! While this challenge is timed around the anniversary of Top Gun: Maverick, the release of that film also reignited a love for the original and helped that part of the fandom grow as well. So if you prefer the OG characters, go right ahead and use them!

What sort of medium is allowed for the challenge?

Literally, anything you can think of! Writing, artworks, GIF sets, edits, moodboards, playlists, Pinterest boards, etc. If you want to decorate a cake with a scene or make a piece of needlepoint, those are allowed too! However you express yourself is a valid way to enter the challenge.

The only exception is that AI resources are NOT allowed. While I know people may have differing opinions when it comes to the use of AI in art or fanart. the point of this challenge is for creators to show their individuality through their art. Not a computer programs ability to compile information. So, any submissions involving AI will not be reblogged.

Are there any minimum or maximum guidelines to follow?

There are NO minimum or maximum limits for words, time, number of GIFs, etc. WIPs are also permitted if you want to submit it now and finish it later.

Can I do more than one submission?

Sure! If you want to write three fics, draw two pieces of art, and make a moodboard, go for it!

What if I am about to post and see someone else has a similar idea already posted?

Then please still post yours! The spirit of the event is to demonstrate how diverse and unique we all are even when we have similar elements. So just because someone else's submission might have the same pairing and trope, I guarantee their creation is not the same as yours. Because no one else will ever be able to recreate the exact story you want to share. Because only you can tell that story your way.

If I'm under 18 can I participate?

Unfortunately, no. Since this challenge allows NSFW content, it is only open to those 18 and older. So in order for your work to be eligible to be reblogged, your blog must have your age indicated on it (18+, 20s, over 21, 35, etc.). Sorry to any minors who were looking to participate. But hopefully, this is successful and we might do it again when you would be old enough to join in!

Is AI generated art of any kind allowed?

No. Since this challenge is focused on our differences as creators that make our art unique, AI generated submissions are not allowed.

If I post on AO3 and share the link on tumblr, can that count as a submission?

Absolutely! Some people prefer to post only on AO3 and that is a totally valid way to participate. Here is the collection you can share your creation with:

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/tgm_all4one

[198d]

...

So, working on a project and one aspect of it is making a really simple scientific poster. I'm the design guy, I do the front nd design since I'm the only person who knows basic html and css, the only person who has taken art and design classes, and I do this stuff for fun so I go ahead and take charge of the poster. Plus they really just don't have the intuition for design at all, even when I or the professors give clear instructions on How To Do Things Right. We have to make tons of drafts and get feedback on them, and its kind of a dripfeed because staff would make comments on some things, neglect to comment on the other things, and make us turn in another draft based on those missed comments.

Every single fucking time my teammates would work on it, I would have to go back and fix allllllll of the margins and padding they neglected, and I would have to remake every image of a diagram into a simplified, vectorized. Every time we had to change text or images based on the feedback, I would have to go back and change those as well. Today, while I was working on this, one of my teammates was literally trying to edit the same thing at the same time (using figma and diagrams.net). I was going to lose my mind because I was just trying to fix all of the issues, like I had to do multiple times, that my teammates would neglect from the feedback, and so this was actively happening while I was trying to fix them.

I had everything in their own groups, so that it would be easy to change things out. My teammates didn't know how to work with that. Earlier teammate literally did not understand that a file cannot have two different file extensions, and sent me a rasterized image of a diagram instead of the actual editable file, because diagrams.net just lets you have an "editable (so like, able to move around the individual elements) png" saved to your google docs, exported it as a plain png and posted it in the project chat. When I couldn't open it they then tried to tell me like, well it worked for me and well it has the other extension too so it should work. It was only the filename that had the 'extension' of the proper file format. (this is the big csc senior class btw)

The fact that we went back and forth so much on that diagram to begin with was frustrating because they could've given me access to the editable file at any time, and would constantly ignore or forget feedback which meant having to fix it many, many more times, and most of those fixes were still missing the core design feedback like 'make the text size bigger' and 'eliminate unnecessary whitespace'. If anything, it would've been much better if I went through with porting it to figma instead of relying on them, but I'm over here not wanting to be a total control freak so I'm like... whatever.

So when I get access to that diagram I fix issues from all of the feedback, but at the end of our final feedback they go and try to edit at the same fucking time as I am editing, and I had been fixing the diagram all day up to that point. Then the same thing happened on the figma document, and of course they deleted my group for the section the diagram was supposed to go in, so I had to make it again, fix the margins, fix the padding, fix the sizing.

They also completely trashed my design for a page I worked on for the project itself like waay earlier in the semester, so I was like. Okay. You guys do your thing, I can put in all my junk later. I would like to avoid wasting my time as much as possible, considering how mentally ill and exhausted I already am.

oh yeah and also the examples the professors put in the powerpoint for posters had the same (margins and spacing or text inconsistencies, bad looking screenshots, that kind of thing) or worse issues (think black impact font on a busy patterned background, for fucks sake) that they kept nitpicking us for, so its kinda like. please actually showcase something that's relevant thanks.

At least it's finally(?) over.

[livingasaghost]

haven't written one of these in a long time but it feels like i should

i'm trying not to be too optimistic because we have a long road ahead of us but i opened up my manuscript last week for the first time in like....a year? it's been quietly sitting on my hard drive while i've worked through a million different crises the last few years and even though i haven't done more than reread it, i felt the Itch. a lot of that comes down to tour starting and feeling inspired by taylor once again (thank god for that woman) but it's something.

i found another indie author on instagram today that kind of gave me that feeling i felt when i found olivie blake (hi olive <3) a few years ago — that sometimes it's okay to just be an indie author and traditional publishing doesn't have to be the be all end all. and like yeah, i'd love to get picked up by traditional publishing and a cool agent, but so much of my fear about editing is That. that i'm not good enough, that i AM good enough and then i have to keep writing after this book is done, that there will be more work in this that just another edit.

i was so driven for most of 2020 and 2021 and then my entire life got ripped apart and remixed and only now two years later do i finally feel like i'm stepping back into myself. i started therapy again and in preparation for that i was reflecting on all the shit that's happened in the last two years and there was a comment i made to myself about how meeting EJ gave me the space to become my own person again post-lockdown and for a long time i thought that meant a New me that wasn't at all like the old me...i thought that i was giving up the old pieces of myself because they no longer fit or they hurt too much or i didn't know how to be who i used to be...but in the last month or so i really feel like i'm returning to the old me (taylor fan, reader, writer, TV binger, artist) while also honoring the new me (climber, cook, emotionally stable lol). i can't explain it but the old light that died in me at the coffeeshop is coming back stronger now.

and now that i'm (hopefully) moving (!!!!!!!) into my own place (AFJHSDK) i think i'm another step closer to that version of myself i've been chasing. which is to say, i'm having grace with myself and remembering all the old things i used to love doing and i feel like very very soon i will be in a safe space where i can finally explore who i'm meant to be. and while i'm terrified of living alone (for the financial reasons obviously) i also have to remember all the benefits of that terrifying prospect. that i'll have the space to be myself. and that peace will lead me to so many wonderful places i don't even know yet.

i'm still not sure when the writing will return to me...in rereading my manuscript i feel like i spend half the time going "NO NOTES!" and the other half going "this is the most cringe, most terrible writing i've ever seen fix all of it please!" it's intimidating and i'm no longer confident in myself like i once was, but now that i feel like i have no deadline and i'm sinking into the idea of a self-published book i'm a little more at peace with it. like i feel like when i do get back to it and start sitting in coffeeshops on the weekends, i will have the space to fully explore this story one more time and put the new pieces of myself inside it.

it's weird because another reason i was so scared of this story is that when i was last editing it i was deep in the trenches of 2021. i intertwined so many people and experiences from that season of my life into the manuscript and it almost feels like i'm just reading about ghosts now. but it's also the ghosts of lockdown and the ghosts of my early twenties and the ghosts of rep tour and the ghosts of all the people i hoped i'd be by now. it's a book about a 21 year old but somehow at 27 this story is more relatable to me than it has ever been before. i am writing my own story that doesn't have a happy ending yet and i think since i don't have the answers it feels like i can't explore that on the page. if i can't offer hope or the promise of a happy ending then does that story deserve to be told? (yes)

i thought i had given up on books and then something changed (as it always does) and i found my way back. i always do. and i always find my way back to writing too. it's just so hard to see life as a string of seasons and cycles when it feels like every second is the start and the end. there is space to grow and change and come back and return and revisit and leave things behind. there is enough time. and sometimes your time is best spent falling back in love with your life. i've spent the past few weekends feeling a little useless - sitting around, resting, not doing much of anything - and even though i can't keep doing that forever, i has forced me to get back in touch with what i want and who i am. sitting in my room with all my books and my cameras and my cool decor centers me, it gives me a reason to keep on living.

i truly don't know where i'm going this year. i have some ideas, some hopes and dreams, but i have resigned myself to "fixing" my every day. to focus on where i am, to make my day to day better and spend less time traveling. and while that would've scared me a few years ago before a global pandemic, i think now it's like a promise to myself. a promise that i am worth investing in and that i can get better and that even if i don't get better, right now is good enough. i had so many dreams for this time of my life that didn't come true and for a while i grieving them pretty hard. and then i set myself free from those dreams and i thought i'd never see them again...but that's not true at all is it? the things that love us, the things that we love never truly leave us after all, they always come back.

also i finally had a vision for the WIP book cover and even though it might change if i ever hit that point...it gave me a little push that sounded like "keep going" <3

[k--havok]

Writer Tag Game

@ceph-the-ghost-writer tagged me for this game (thank you!)

I am an absolute mess when it comes to writing but I will try my best to hopefully make sense and explain in as little words as possible. 

I’ll go ahead and leave this as an open tag since tumblr is giving me pains. If you do this game, please tag me so I can read it! 

One thread that runs through all these questions is that it depends on the WIP

Do you write in order?

Eh, more or less? Not always. Sometimes I have the itching to write a random scene in particular, especially if the inspiration strikes, and I will scramble to write it down. This is especially true if it's a newer idea. But once I turn an idea or a thought into a story I want to write I will try and buckle down and start from the beginning. 

From there, I usually do my best to write in order. Sometimes I skip some scenes while doing so due to writer’s block or not knowing what will happen and wanting to get to the next point before I lose my flow. But these are usually smaller and more transitional sub-plot scenes. 

Do you start with something in particular? 

And here’s a knot in the thread; it depends. It matters on the inspiration and idea. A lot of my story ideas I get from my dreams as I am a very vivid dreamer. Inspiration can come from anywhere, after all. 

I’ll talk a little about my current WIPs (and some hiatus WIPs) as examples. 

Waking into Divinity was a dream I had about a person (it was foggy who they were) had a demon pop out of nowhere and tell them that they were destined to be his soulmate. The person, of course, didn’t believe the demon and the demon had to prove himself.

The idea changed a little bit from that dream, but the basis is still there. Rylie is an average millennial who meets a demon, Casrath, who says he is their soulmate. Romantic comedy and angst ensue. 

Sometimes I like to look at media I hate to get ideas. Sounds counterproductive, I know, but a lot of books I hate, I hate them due to how promising the premise is, and I want to do better. 

For example, Soft Touches, Godless Hands is my own version of an angel sent from Heaven to Earth to try and fight back the growing darkness that has been plaguing the world. I stole the premise from that god-awful book series Halo. 

My version is completely different, but the basic premise is the same. 

Sometimes my fanfiction can grow way out of proportion to the point where it becomes original. I’m not talking just AUs either. The Tales of Ozoarth was originally fanfiction, and I changed it to original fiction after I wrote out all the canon characters in favor of my OCs at one point in the story. Even the locations changed due to this as all the OCs went back to where they originally came from. It had transitioned from being fanfic to being something... not fanfic so I continued on that line of thought.

14 years later? It's a different beast and story altogether. 

How fully formed does your writing come out the first try?

Another thread; it depends. It also matters if it’s a good writing day or a bad writing day. 

I’m gonna go ahead and link my pilot for Osiris’ Trials here (link will take you to AO3, it is an 18+ story) 

This pilot is the first draft. I did minor edits, such as grammar and line editing. But not much else. There are still some rough parts in the story but overall, I doubt much will change when I decide to continue writing this story. I really like what I wrote for the pilot. 

However, sometimes I know I’ll need to go back with heavier editing. Tal’rith (link will take you to AO3, it is also 18+) is a lot more rough I think. There are several missing scenes and scenes that will need to be shortened as its a little too long for what it needs to be I think. However the base idea is there. Again, this story only went through grammar and line editing. 

My writing style tends to fluctuate a little, so some WIPs are easier for me to write than others and will need less work. 

How many drafts do you go through?

Well... it depends. As many as it takes for me to be happy with the story and writing. Usually my drafts need to be edited for the actual content, not the writing, as I change the story and plot. That takes a lot of time. 

And it is something I haven’t successfully been able to manage as I can barely finish first drafts....

Shorter stories, snippets, and one shots usually only get one round of editing. Mainly grammer/line editing. Sometimes I add in scenes or take them away too, however. 

Tell me about your process?

I think if you’ve gotten this far you know it depends. 

My process for longer stories... does not work for me all that much and I am still trying to figure out how to write longer novels. 

I’ve been working on my D&D novella, though, and its going pretty well, so I’ll use it as an example. 

After I get my basic idea/premise (see above, lol) I flesh it out the idea with world building, more characters, etc. After I feel I have a story I can tell with the idea, I start thinking of the different situations and conflicts that can arise in the world.

For Rane and Korzan’s Fantastical Adventures (name pending), it’s set in 5e, so the world building is mainly done for me. Rane is my original character and Korzan is my partner’s. Korzan is also from a different edition of D&D, so first we thought of a way he gets misplaced. 

Magical accident. Easy. Both Rane and Korzan have ties to the Abyss, and the Abyss works in weird ways. 

Rane is a monster hunter in this version of herself. Korzan is misplaced and wants to go back to his world. Rane wants to run away from her past and keep busy and keep her nose clean. 

Lots of wants. But their wants don’t align with what they actually need. I enjoy interpersonal character conflict, so I try and give all my characters a want vs a need. 

Rane and Korzan both know quite a bit about abyssal magic and the abyss. I put a pin in that. 

From here I think of an external conflict that can bring out the internal conflict as well as give the characters a conflict between themselves. 

We went with zombies. Rane and Korzan gets attacked by zombies

Alright, so here is where we get out first conflict. Rane is lawful good and a go-getter. She wants to find the source of the zombies. Korzan does not as it is not his problem. 

Rane wins the first conflict and they find the town getting attacked. 

Okay, now we have a mystery. Time for the next conflict for the characters; the way they want to figure out this mystery. 

From this point, I usually skip the middle of the story and get to the end. I like to figure out where I want to go before filling in the middle. 

So my partner and I both wrote the ending of the story, and from there we work backwards. After we work backwards, we go through the story again chronologically so we know all the pieces fit together and make sense, especially the conflict-resolution, both external and internal. 

This is a shorter/smaller story that will be novella length at most (as long as I don’t overwrite it....) but so far this newer-ish process is working for me, and I may end up fleshing it out and using it in the future for my longer projects. We shall see! 

[thatswhatijustsaid]

I've been the best I can be [5]

 part four︱masterlist︱ part six 

MCU!Spiderman x Avenger!Reader (platonic)

tasm!Spiderman x Reader

Gn!reader

Word count: 3.2K

Description: Armed with two new Peter Parkers, you set out to find the original.

Note: Thank you guys so much for all the loooooove!!! Also, accidentally posted this on the wrong account first so we're just gonna go ahead and ignore that-

Disclaimer: I am trying to make my fics as all-inclusive as they can be. This fic will not use gendered language in regards to the reader, and I do my utter best to avoid making any other kinds of assumptions as well. If you notice any biased language, please let me know and I’ll edit it and make sure to avoid it in the future (:

Warnings: Canon typical violence, swearing.

"I think May is dead."

Grief hit you the moment the words sank in. It was a force, so violent that you were almost brought to your knees. You felt it, clawing at your heart, your soul. You felt it, burning your eyes and your throat. Not May.

You felt as if your body was splitting apart, sadness seeping out of every pore, your heart pumping it into your blood.

When anger encased you, wrapped around you like a suit, like a second skin, you welcomed it.

"Who did it?" You whispered, reaching out to wipe away the tears that had fallen down MJ's face.

"We don't know, y/n, we don't know anything. They must have- must have ambushed him, or something, we don't know anything," her hands were on your shoulders, gripping you with a strength you didn't know she possessed. "We have to find him."

You sniffed and wiped away tears you hadn't realized were on your own face. Time to be an adult. Time to be an Avenger. You wrapped your arms around MJ, let her bury her face in your shoulder, and compose herself. She pulled away and wiped the last tears off her cheeks, swallowing her own sadness to let an expression of determination replace it.

"Okay," You said, finally turning to address the two strange adult men in the room. Not-Spider-Man was closer to you, looking at you, almost uncomfortably intimately. "Okay," You repeated, clearing your throat. "So," You pointed at Not-Spider-Man, "You're Peter."

He pointed at himself, "I'm Peter. Peter Parker."

"You're Spider-Man."

"I'm Spider-Man," he said.

You nodded, "Sorry about threatening to shoot you."

"Happens all the time."

You smiled a little, a small sliver of light through your anger, "Nice to meet you, Peter."

He smiled back.

You turned to Ned, pulled him into your side, let him clutch at you, and felt very suddenly that you were 14 again. You, and Ned, and Peter, wherever he was. Ned rubbed his eyes, and you noticed the ring on his finger.

"That's Strange's," You said.

Ned looked down at his hand, then back up at you, a guilty expression creeping up his face.

"Strange isn't here," You realized, your eyes widening, "You opened that portal?"

Ned nodded, and you saw him open his mouth to argue or defend himself or something, but you interrupted him, "That's awesome, Ned. We'll talk about this later. Uh, don't apprentice under Strange, he's an irresponsible ass, you should talk to Wong. He's the only one with any sense over there." You patted him on the shoulder, then turned to face the only person you hadn't talked to yet.

"Peter?" You asked him, pretending to not know the answer.

"Yeah. Peter Parker. Also Spider-Man. It's nice to meet you."

You smiled at him, a genuine reaction of happiness. These men weren't your Peter, but some kind of Peter-ness radiated off them anyway, a calm, a home.

"Y/n L/n. Peter's friend, Spider-Man's coworker, de facto babysitter," you motioned back at Ned and MJ. He smiled, and instead of seeing Peter, you saw Steve, radiating ease, comfort, calm.

You cleared your throat, you were in charge here, they were waiting for you. "Okay," you said, keeping your voice even, you needed to provide comfort to the children that were with you, and make the adults think you were responsible. "We start with tracking down Peter. Now," You turned to the Peters, "He was trying to cure them because they said they were... dying. Dead." You looked them dead in the eye. It was strange to think of Spider-Man as an actual murderer. You remembered how horrifically Peter had taken Mysterio's death, and he hadn't even been the one responsible.

"There was a, uh, a doctor with octopus legs and tiny shades. Grumpy guy."

Older Peter nodded, "Doctor Octavius. He drowned a long time ago. He's here?"

You nodded, "Tried to stab my Peter." my Peter. That sounded strange.

Peter winced, "Sorry about that."

"I think we're past apologizing for people trying to kill us. That's just... the Spider life, yeah?"

He chuckled at that, a quiet, wise old laugh, and agreed with you.

You ran down the list of villains. Weird lizard man, dude made of sand, electricity man.

"And an old guy. He didn't seem too bad. Said he was a scientist... uh... Norman Osborn."

They both had one of those, apparently. A brief description later, and you came to the conclusion it was the older Peter's doctor Osborn. Younger Peter seemed relieved, almost suspiciously so. You decided not to press it.

The five of you tried to figure out where Peter might have gone. Your apartment was out of the question, as was his own, and Happy's was... well, a pile of rubble. The other Peter's listed places they liked; Empire state, the Chrysler building. You considered the Avengers tower, but it didn't feel quite right.

MJ knew where he was.

You found him, alone, sitting on the roof of Midtown. Alone, in his grief. Tears mixed with blood. You longed to pull him back to Strange's sanctum and lock him in one of the cells, keep him safe, keep his heart protected, before it was poisoned by the real world, and all the pain and anger that came with it.

MJ and Ned rushed ahead, and you let them, hanging back to instead watch the other Peter Parker's scale the side of the school's tower. It was fascinating to see, both of them so different from your Peter, whose movements you had learned to anticipate and understand. Once they had both vanished into the shadows, you ran over to Peter's side as well. Your Peter. Just a kid.

You wrapped him, and the other two, up in a tight hug, trying to squeeze all the comfort you could give into your embrace. You sunk to your knees, all squatting on the wet ground, a collective agony, for just a moment more, until MJ whispered something to Peter, and he tensed up, the way he always did and pushed himself to his feet. You watched him do what you did, steel himself up, push his emotions to the side in favor of protecting what he cared for.

The other two Peter's dropped down.

Guess every Peter Parker's got a dramatic streak, you thought to yourself, both of them doing stupid (but endearing) Spider-Man poses that any other day would have made you laugh. You rose to your feet to come to your Peter's side, as the other two came into the light and began talking. You stilled Peter, grabbing his forearm when he flinched at the sight of them.

The other Peters started talking, trying to get through to your Peter, but nothing seemed to be working.

"You don't belong here. So I'm going to do what I should have done in the first place," Peter pulled his arm out of your grasp, "Y/n, where's the box?" He tore his gaze away from the other two dejected-looking Peters and stared at you, his face a mask of hardened decision, his eyes still brimming with tears. You raised your empty hands and shook your head, "Haven't got it. Peter–"

The tears in his eyes spilled, "y/n, will you please go get it? I– I can't do this anymore. I'm done," He turned back to look at the other versions of himself, "I can't do this," He whispered, "I'm sending you back, what you do there... It's none of my business. I just want to go home."

You felt a memory creep up in the back of your mind, and then throw itself at you almost violently. Peter, crying, calling you, after his first big fight with the Vulture. 20 broken and fractured ribs.

You remembered the phone call, his breathing erratic even over the phone, asking if he could stay over at your place, worried aunt May would find out. Him, in your arms, telling you through hitching breaths about how Toomes had dropped a building on him.

Him, in your arms, tears in his eyes, asking you if you thought Liz would be okay.

You wouldn't let this ruin him. You wouldn't let grief, or sadness, or anger eat away at what he was, rot him from the inside out.

"Peter," you said, turning to take his face in your hands, "Let's go somewhere warm. Let's clean you up, figure this out, okay?"

Whatever resolve Peter had had in him was gone, trickling away with the tears and rain that spilled down his face. He nodded.

A few consoling words later, you passed him over to MJ, who let him collapse into her, wrapping his arms around her like she was all that kept him upright.

You had Ned order an Uber big enough for six, and promised to pay him back once you got somewhere safe. Then you clambered up onto the stoop where the other two Peters sat.

They turned to you, both with mirroring expressions of sadness. That trademark Parker empathy. That heart, so big, so full of care for everyone, every stranger, every villain, you could see it, etched in their faces. You smiled at them, as best you could. If you knew how to comfort one, surely you could comfort the rest.

"I'm taking you all to my place," You said, "Peter– err– that Peter," you pointed backward, "is out of web fluid, plus there's so many of us, so I think it's best we take a car. I know this is trying for all of us," again, you motioned backward, speaking of those from this universe, "But you just got pulled away from everything you know and thrown into chaos with villains you already beat. You guys need some rest too. Not up for question." You tried to make your voice stern, but you knew it came out soft and sad. Your heart wasn't as big as Peter Parker's, but it had a soft spot for him, and that apparently included him from every universe.

You turned to face the Spider-Man you knew a little better, the one that was your age, the one fully decked out in spandex. His brown eyes, huge, and soft, and so sad, met yours, and the breath was knocked out of you for an instant. You pulled off your jacket.

"Here," You held it out for him, "I would tell you to put on the mask and follow us by web, but uh... it's not a great time to be Spider-Man. Also, that suit looks like pure spandex and it is so cold out here." Your breath came out in a mist as if to accentuate your point. He took it and shrugged it around his shoulders with a small 'thanks'.

The older Peter, the one that reminded you so, so much of Steve, placed a hand on your shoulder. "Did you know May well?"

You nodded, ignoring the burning in your eyes, "Yeah," You whispered, "She was like- like a mother to me." You realized it was true as you said it. You realized you had just lost the only parental figure you had since you were a teen, and were fighting to hold on to the only other person you could conceivably call family. And you felt like you were losing.

"Did you uhm-" You cringed at yourself, trying to find a delicate way to ask two people who were practically strangers about a deep personal trauma, "Do you guys... still have her? May?"

The Peter wearing your jacket nodded, smiling a bit, "She just retired, a couple of years ago. I go see her when I can."

You turned towards the older Peter, who shook his head, "She died. Almost five years ago now. She was eighty-nine, she died in her sleep, at home. She was happy and healthy, all the way to the end. That's all I could have asked for."

You nodded, wiping away a stray tear that had gotten away from you. You turned towards Peter, who was talking to MJ in a hushed voice, MJ running a hand through his hair. Would he get that?

You turned to the older Peter again, "Sorry, uh, how old are you?"

"Forty-six."

The other Peter let out a low whistle, "I'm twenty-eight, I'm already starting to feel it in my joints, and my back," as if to accentuate his point, he raised his arms above his head and stretched, “You're still uh, doing the Spider thing?"

The older Peter pulled down the hem of his sweater, revealing the familiar red of the suit.

MJ popped her head up, suddenly, "Car's here."

Everyone climbed into the car, you decided to sacrifice yourself by sitting in the front seat and chatting with the driver, keeping her busy, talking about New York traffic, idiots on bikes, that 'mess on the bridge', and then you were all home, all six of you. In your one-bedroom apartment.

You opened the door and were suddenly incredibly thankful for your cleaning spree earlier. This looked like a normal person's home, besides the knife marks on the wall and the weapons lying on the sofa table, next to a couple day's old newspaper and a TV remote... And nothing else.

The box was gone.

It took every kernel of emotional control you possessed to keep from sheer panic. Instead, you led the two dimension travelers to the couch, had Ned and MJ come up with something to say to their parents, and took Peter into the bedroom. He sat down, silently, on the edge of your bed, and started pulling off his suit. This was regular, this was comforting routine. Whenever Peter's injuries were bad enough to worry May, or in places he couldn't get to, he would climb in through your living room window, you would sit him down on your bed, give him a fresh t-shirt and some sweatpants and help him stitch himself together.

You started with his torso, littered with green and purple bruises, claw marks, and bumps on his chest. You poked and prodded at him gently, checking for punctured organs, but all seemed fine, beyond a few broken ribs. You cleaned the wounds you needed to, but nothing needed stitching or even serious bandaging. The bruising worried you, a significant portion of them looked intramuscular, deep, and painful, even with Peter's spider-healing. You gave him a wet rag and let him clean his own face as you worked, and he was left only with a busted lip, bruises on his cheekbones, thankfully only surface-level bruising, and red-rimmed eyes.

You passed him a t-shirt. You had gotten into the habit of stocking a drawer with stupid geek t-shirts he loved, getting a new and stupider one every time he needed it. This one, an XL blue t-shirt that said 'without geometry life would be pointless', with a picture of a cuboid with all of its sides measured and marked. It was dumb. Peter loved them. He shoved the shirt on, then read it upside down, and smiled, just the tiniest bit. You let him pull the rest of the suit off himself, and had him check his legs for serious bruising or blood vessel damage. He pulled on the sweats you handed him, reporting nothing dangerous.

"I'll give you something to put on that rib, then I'll go get you some water, and I want you to eat something. You, Ned, and MJ can take the bed and- oof!" You were cut off by Peter pulling you into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, raising you slightly off the ground as he did.

You smiled at him as he let you down, "What was that for?"

"Thank you. For everything. I mean it."

"Don't mention it, Parker," you said, giving him a friendly, feather-light punch on the shoulder.

The two of you stepped out of the bedroom, Peter stepping momentarily over to the washing machine to leave his suit.

Ned was sitting in a chair, facing the two Peters on the couch, telling them about something with his usual animated air. The younger Peter seemed enthralled, eyes shining, hanging onto Ned's every word, while the older seemed a bit calmer, still listening, but with the calmer vibe of a parent who has heard every story there is.

Peter, your Peter, would need to talk to them. He would have to understand, they would get the spirit back in him, you were sure of it. They were each other, linked in a way you could never be. However, you did have other things to worry about, chief among them the box. And you would need a web-slinger to help you. Peter came back, sitting down in a chair next to MJ.

"All good?" You asked her, receiving an affirmative response.

"Fantastic. Well, I have one bed and one couch, and no food in my apartment, and no clothes for you, so I am going to need to make a run to the store. I'll just go to the Target over on sixth, half an hour tops." You walked over to your fridge and opened the freezer compartment. You found the always reliable bag of peas, as well as two more high-quality cooling pads. You wrapped them all in hand towels and gave them to Peter, who took them with thanks and let MJ fuss over him a bit.

"Peter?" You turned to the men on the couch, though all three of them responded with a 'yes?'.

This was going to get so confusing. "Peter that's wearing my jacket." He sat up, promptly pulled the jacket off, and held it out to you, looking abashed, "Sorry, here."

"Oh, no that's fine! I was just wondering if you'd be willing to come with me? It would cut my commuting time in half."

He stood up, looking happy to be of use, "Yeah. sure. Of course."

"If that's okay with you," you said, speaking to the older Peter. You hoped that your Peter hearing about May, getting some advice from the older version of himself would be some sort of catharsis, some sort of help for the gaping wounds on his heart.

He seemed to understand what you were implying, and nodded, again, with the ease of a wise, experienced man. His smile reminded you of Steve again.

You cleared your throat, shrugged on the jacket, and smiled at the Peter who was now standing next to you.

"Let's go."

Note: Sorry for the swift ending ): This chapter was getting too long so I split it in half. Started to feel guilty about leaving you all hanging for so long!

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