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fireinmoonshot · 5 months ago

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death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second.

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start.

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it.

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today.

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.”

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason.

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.”

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are.

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence.

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were.

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.”

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike.

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers.

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler.

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you.

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had.

It drives Tyler insane.

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is.

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?”

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another.

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed.

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer.

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers. They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.”

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!”

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God.

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you.

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?”

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening.

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same.

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler.

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat.

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck.

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go.

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet.

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.”

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out.

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again.

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive.

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing.

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual.

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them.

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield.

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims.

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size.

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time.

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this.

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you.

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it.

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore.

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom.

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline.

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead.

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it.

Everything is okay, you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name.

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?”

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.”

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared.

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain.

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome.

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!”

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his.

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive.

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive.

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment.

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler.

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.”

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully.

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused.

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being.

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.

#tyler owens #twisters #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters x reader #twisters x you #tyler owens imagine #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #tyler owens fanfic

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wimallidge · 1 year ago

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having text conversations with three different friends at once,

friend 1: yeah i've been getting really homesick recently and it's really affecting me

friend 2: yeah i want to do a bedsheet ghost photo shoot but i've got to wait for someone to die

friend 3: hey does your hand still fit in a pringles can? my vape got stuck in my pringles can and i can't get it out

#someone else told friend 3 to cut the pringles can to get it out #i'm honoured that they thought i'd rescue them in their time of need #but i hate vapes and they live an hour and a half away #friend 1 i'm giving no further context on i feel that one is rather self explanatory #friend 2 is a fashion student #they are planning a pumpkin head photo shoot for part of their coursework #bedsheet ghosts came up as a fun thing to do as a friend thing #so the thing about waiting for someone to die #is that their grandparents have a lot of friends who are very old #and every time one of their friends die they ask for their bedsheets to give to my friend #my friend uses them to make clothing out of them #and they just kind of forgot that you can buy bedsheets first hand #(my friend DOES NOT get the sheets they died in)#(just spare sheets)#(i think that's important to mention)#friend 2 is very much into recycling materials and interesting stories behind what they make

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wheneclipsefalls · 6 months ago

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Little Gift - Latch

Neteyam photo by @cinetrix

Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader

Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha

Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.

A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!

Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist

You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.

Everything is perfect.

Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures.

The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.

You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out.

His reward for all that he has had to endure.

Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying.

He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort.

His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal.

He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him.

The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit.

It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses.

Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair.

It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are.

All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.

Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you.

His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap.

Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy.

This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know.

It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.

Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.

Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have.

Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek.

“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”

It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter.

Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both.

Later, he reminds himself.

The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily.

“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy.

The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours.

“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back.

“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it.

“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.

“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls.

“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.”

“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.”

“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep.

“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale.

“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower.

“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.”

“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn.

“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.”

It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience.

“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan.

“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”

Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner.

“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow.

“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight.

He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.

Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt.

A sharp smirk cuts into his features.

For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs.

Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more.

The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running.

The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths.

And then your breathing is cut all together.

The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt.

Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels.

“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.”

You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability.

You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again.

They are closer this time.

“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”

A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs.

“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection.

“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air.

“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards.

“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”

A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip.

He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow.

“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out.

Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger.

Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest.

Neteyam keeps it sheathed.

“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool.

“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!”

“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.”

You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm.

“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures.

“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”

“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”

It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves.

Poor thing, what would you do without him?

“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.

“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.

From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.

What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises.

They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer.

The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear.

You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights.

The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to.

He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames.

He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible.

About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention.

However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole.

Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs.

Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else.

Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.

“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor.

His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers.

“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button.

“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee.

No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets.

“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own.

One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair.

“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire.

“Isn’t that right?”

“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth.

“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place.

Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment.

It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away.

“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.

Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing.

For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.

Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop.

Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him.

It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of.

He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms.

You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning.

And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle.

A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied.

It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.

Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time.

The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt.

“Did I say you could do that?”

You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips.

“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?”

You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same.

“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.”

Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.

Just in the way only he can deliver.

Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations.

You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you.

“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.

“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.

“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”

Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him.

“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.”

Your alarm flares up once more.

“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”

A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.

Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish.

A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his.

“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.”

With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.

The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out.

“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor.

But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys.

The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more.

However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload.

The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place.

Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly.

“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.”

And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows.

He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids.

The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union.

And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss.

“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper.

“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else.

“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over.

“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong.

“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust.

Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek.

“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.

That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations.

There’s another side to him too.

The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom.

Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him.

And now nothing is going to take it away from him.

Nothing will ever take you away.

Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper.

“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts.

“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark.

You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.

Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible.

And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly.

“I want to sleep.”

Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.

“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again.

It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same.

“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.”

Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out.

Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat.

Please don't be shy. Hearing your thoughts and reactions is what helps fuel my drive to keep posting. Love you, pookies<3

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @pandoraslxna @tallulah477 @sullybrothersmate @criticallybella @lilghostiequinni @chershire23 @lala-1516 @yawnetu @puddle-nerd @ratchetprime211 @avatargirly @chocolatechocobo91 @kariz-stark @bunnscoffe @avatarwifey @universal-s1ut @witchsprit @heart-an0n @riri-is-a-girlie @rivatar @minnory @ikeyniofthetayrangi @ilovehobi101 @spicymayyo @v4mp1rr3 @nilsavatar @bambithewriter @quicktosimp @itchaboi-itchyboy @thehoneymushroomhealer @ilytulipse @imwutim @crazy4books1 @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @danniackerman @dayyzlol @justabite7 @krispyjellyfishkitty @neteyamtesuli @sakurayuki8655-blog @deadpool15 @valeriinee @leaveitbythewave @aqxllo @mxnygn @crazed-flower @crimsonroses666 @property-of-neteyam @rejectedbytheeempty @erenjaegerwifee

I know there are people I probably missed. It's getting harder and harder to keep track of this taglist so don't be offended if you aren't on there. Also, a good portion of these aren't linking properly so check to see if I have entered it in correctly and if so, you might want to look into your account.

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certaimromance · 4 months ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 Cupid Walks Right.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: You've been hiding your attraction to your coworker for a long time, until a few pictures of him kissing a celebrity in a pool unleash emotions you can't control.

Words: 1,6k.

Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mentions of crime and arms. spoilers for s1 e18 ("somebody's watching"). hurt+comfort. two idiots in love. lots of jealousy. fluff. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: The reader is simply me every time I watch that episode but with a lot more drama to make it interesting.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

One bullet after another hit the paper meters away from you, with each shot more accurate than the previous one. You had lost count of how many cartridges you had already spent because your mind was full of thoughts that only the sound of the shots echoing in the shooting room managed to silence and give you back a little control of the situation.

Memories of one of the last cases still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't understand why. It hadn't even been something relevant enough to stick in your mind that much, it was just a crazy stalker obsessed with a celebrity and more of the same old same old in terms of creating a profile. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, and it had ended well, with a happy ending that included Spencer kissing the victim he was supposed to be protecting.

That was the crux of the issue, the root of your problem.

You saw some photos that captured the moment in vivid detail and wanted to run out and throw up in the nearest trash can. You held back to avoid answering embarrassing questions, blaming your bad feelings on the last thing you ate and insisting that you were just satisfying your curiosity. But as they say, curiosity always kills the cat.

Maybe it was because it was unprofessional and unnecessary, maybe you were in a bad mood and needed to relax, maybe you were upset that the guy with the germ problem had shared saliva with a stranger, maybe you didn't like Lila Archer because of her performances, or maybe you just wanted to be in her shoes and have him kiss you like that. And for heaven's sake, maybe you've had a few inappropriate dreams about it lately.

You were just about to fire again to get the thoughts out of your mind when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around, ready to defend yourself with the gun in your hand.

“Wait, wait, it's me. I'm sorry.” Spencer raised his arms in a sign of peace and took a few steps back. “Just me.”

“What are you doing here? You scared me.” You lowered the gun and placed it on the table, trying to sound less abrupt. “I thought everyone had gone home.”

He approached you again, checking the open shells and the pile of bullets on the ground. He was quite surprised to see how many times you had hit the target with perfect shots, and how you still seemed intent on continuing, even though it was almost two in the morning. It wasn't practice, because you didn't need it, it was something else, and you seemed quite angry about it.

“I spent the hour going through some papers and saw the light on in here. I thought I'd come and have a look.” He explained, trying to follow your gaze, which seemed to elude his. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, perfect.”

You started gathering your things and cleaning up the space you'd been using, planning to leave as soon as possible because of his presence. It had been weeks since you'd been alone with him because you'd managed to avoid seeing him as best you could. You'd even managed to convince Hotch that it was time for him to pair you up with someone else during the cases to experiment. You didn't even know why he'd listened to you, but it had been a great relief.

“You're leaving already?” Spencer asked, and you just nodded. “Can I take you home?”

Usually he drove you home, because your car was still at the mechanic and you refused to buy a new one. You always used the minutes you spent together to talk about something other than cases, they were moments of relaxation that you both appreciated. The big difference was that now you couldn't afford that luxury without feeling strange.

“Don't worry, I'll call a taxi.” You grabbed your jacket from a nearby locker. “I'm fine.” You added, with the intention of heading for the door until he stopped you by the wrist.

“Is everything okay...between us?” He asked as you looked up to meet his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

“I'm sorry, what?” You said, feigning confusion. You always knew it was only a matter of time before he figured something was off with you. After all, he worked in profiling.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked again, in a lower voice, sounding a little more vulnerable than he'd intended. That instantly made you feel bad, you didn't want to hurt him with your confusion.

“No.”

He let out a sigh at your automatic response. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he felt a wave of relief for a few seconds. But then he looked into your eyes for a moment and hesitated, biting his lower lip.

“So...why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, sounding a little shy and with a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Or not looking at me at all.”

“I'm not doing anything.” You make excuses.

He got the chills when he heard your voice, which came across as cold and distant.

“You're giving me that look.”

You gave a little frown and folded your arms, as if to say you didn't agree.

“What look?"

“You look at me like I've done something wrong, like you're disappointed or angry...I think both. You barely look me in the eye, you walk away every time I want to talk to you, you don't sit near me on the jet or want to work with me anymore. And you've been like this for a week.” He paused for a second, remembering when your strange behavior started. “Ever since the L.A. case.”

The room was suddenly filled with silence and a palpable tension. You had been foolish to think Spencer wouldn't notice your remoteness, given his perceptive nature. But you didn't have a choice. You didn't want to appear jealous when you didn't even have feelings for him, you were just ovulating or something like that.

“Is it because...because of Lila? I heard Morgan say some things, and you haven't treated me the same since.” His wavering voice sounded more and more confident, as if he still had to convince himself of his point of view. “I want to know what you think, please.”

You could only curse Derek for exposing you like that. He was the only one who knew about your strange attraction to Reid because he had caught you looking at him several times and you had confessed it to him once in a bar after several drinks and a ridiculous game of cross questions. Since that night, the jokes and suggestions about making out with Spencer under a tree had begun.

But a beautiful actress did it before you, in her pool, with lots of pictures to prove it.

“I'm not one to tell you what to do, but I think your actions were unprofessional and most of all risky.” You spoke after a few seconds, clearing your throat and trying to contain the burning you felt. “It could have ended badly.”

Come on, you would have done the same thing. You often thought about what it would be like to kiss him in the middle of an investigation, especially when he kept giving important details. So you were a little hypocritical.

“I'm only saying that because I care about you.” You added, noticing how confused he looked.

“I know, I care about you too.” He replied calmly, taking a step toward you to touch your arm. “This has been bothering you?”

You froze at his warm touch and the implications you thought he was making about you, nodding as if hypnotized. Had he realized that you had been jealous all along? That you wanted to go back so he could kiss you and not her? That you wanted him to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you deeply until you were breathless?

“I think I understand, but don't worry about me. I won't do anything dangerous anymore.”

Oh, he hadn't noticed.

Spencer really thought that you were just concerned about his safety because he was your friend and your partner on cases, that you were just frustrated that you weren't there to back him up in case things went wrong. It didn't even occur to him that it was something much deeper and more heated than that.

“So, all good?” He gave you a small smile that made your heart beat a little faster.

“Sure.” You lied, with a strange lump in your throat at the guarded words. “I just didn't know you liked blondes.” You added in a fake teasing tone.

Despite your clearly suspicious tone, Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Actually, I like your hair color.”

A strange bubbling sensation reached your stomach and made you smile.

“Mine?” You asked, lowering your gaze to the floor.

“Yes, it's like it's perfect for you.” He carefully brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, causing the feeling in your stomach to identify itself as butterflies fluttering nonstop.

“You're telling me because I have a gun?” You tried to change the subject with a nervous laugh. “I'm not a celebrity, after all.”

“You don't have to be one to be as pretty as you are. But you could be if you wanted to, and...” He started to talk about statistics and a bunch of data you didn't even know, but strangely enough you didn't listen to him this time because you were stuck on the first sentence.

Spencer really thought you were pretty.

It was only then that you realized something had changed. The only successful shot had been Cupid's arrow to your heart.

Because, damn it, you were totally in love with that man.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid imagine

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saltylemontears · 3 months ago

Text

.jpg || ln4

summary: lando.jpg has posted...some interesting stuff warnings: none, just lots of fluff a/n: had to take a break from my george fic because i accidentally made it sad lol, this is very short, just a word vomit tbh

fuel my creativity here!

click!

the first time, lando doesn't notice. he's way too focused on his engineers explaining the race strategy to hear the camera shutter. you squint a little, trying to get the perfect angle.

you were not a photographer. far from that, actually. the camera feels a bit too heavy and unnatural in your hands and you need to do multiple takes every time, because it just doesn't look right. but god, it is fun. you can see why lando enjoys it.

click!

lando's sitting in his car already, sharing some thoughts with an engineer before the race, helmet already on, gaze focused, burning with that passionate look you fell in love with.

you crouch behind a mechanic and quickly snap a few pictures, fiddling with the focus of the camera until it centers on lando's eyes, capturing his look in detail.

you hide the camera when he looks at you for the last time before going on the track and smile to yourself when he waves at you.

click!

your arms begin to hurt after a few minutes of standing beside the track with the camera. this being your fourth attempt at taking a cool shot of lando's mclaren speeding past you, you start becoming slightly impatient.

the car goes into frame and you press the button like crazy, trying to get at least one decent photo in that speed, trying to capture the incredible atmosphere of the singapore gp.

and, fourth time really is the charm, because it comes out perfect.

click!

tears stream down your cheeks and you can't see anything, let alone the camera, so you blindly press the button, not even focusing on centering the shot.

lando's standing on the podium, in first place, and you've seen this before, but you'll never get tired of the sight of him on the top step, seeing the passion and happiness in his eyes as he holds up the trophy.

when he looks down at you, aiming the champagne bottle at you, you manage to raise the camera once more and photograph the way he looks at you with so much pride.

for once, you don't mind having champagne in your hair.

click!

it's way after midnight when you come back to your hotel, both pleasantly drunk off of victory and questionable alcohol, the loud music still echoing in your head. lando looks at his trophy again and you can't help but smile.

he always savors his wins so much, with so much gratitude, and god, you love him so much.

you take a picture when he turns his back to you to put the trophy on the small table in the hotel room, but this time there's no loud noises to cover the shutter.

lando shoots you a pointed look. "the fuck was that?"

"nothing, an accident. sorry!"

you kiss him to distract him, switching the mood.

+click!

this time, lando knows.

he's sitting beside you, smile brighter than ever, and you're taking a selfie of the two of you with the camera. in the next, he's pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you smile to yourself looking at the pics. your plan's slowly coming together.

with the help of your hand running through his curls, lando falls asleep in your arms, giving you time to finish what you started.

you import the shots into your laptop, logging in to instagram.

lando's never hidden anything from you - not even his instagram passwords, and that's how you find yourself uploading the shots on his lando.jpg account.

you take some time to think of a caption, but eventually, you figure it out.

"through my eyes. love, y/n."

you hit send, leaning your head against lando's. he'll have a nice surprise to wake up to.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #ln4

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love-quinn · 6 months ago

Text

— CALL TIME

summary — a games shoot with your boyfriend mid-fight isn’t something that’s particularly appealing. but, in an effort to keep up appearances, you inadvertently find out the reason you’re fighting.

warnings — none

pairing — spencer agnew x fem!reader

pronouns — none (you/yours), reader is referred to explicitly as spencer’s girlfriend

featuring — spencer agnew, shayne topp, angela giarratana, courtney miller, alex tran, kortney luby (mentioned)

word count — 3.4k

note — honestly still trying to figure out what i’m doing here, but i guess i write for smosh now?? i hope you enjoy anyway <33

Shoot weeks were always stressful. They resulted in 12 hour days, sometimes you had multiple shoots back to back and you didn’t get a break. A lot of the time, you’d scarf down Uber Eats at your desk while looking over two different scripts, four emails and the shoot schedule and realising that you’re probably not going to get a whole lot of sleep that night.

Your boyfriend was in the same boat, though. Not only was he often on camera, he was also directing all of the smosh games productions. A lot of the time while you were devouring a subway over your desk, Spencer was right there beside you, the two of you chatting idly about whether or not either of you thought that you would have the time or the energy to see each other outside of work that week.

The two of you had been dating privately for a little over a year, everyone at the office knew but you hadn’t announced anything publicly yet. Neither of you had any interest in it, to be perfectly honest. Your audience knew the two of you were close, you’d occasionally post photos of the two of you out at dinner together or at the movies or something, plus you’d run into fans quite a few times. But also, Spencer hung out in public more with Alex than he did with you, so people didn’t tend to take it to a romantic place.

During lunch on the Thursday of a shoot week would usually involve the two of you sitting tiredly in the open office area, your head on his shoulder while he showed you a video of something. You relished any opportunity to spend time together during shoot weeks, because you both really would just leave work, pass out and then go back to work.

This particular Thursday, though, you were alone at your table. Not alone, Shayne and Angela were there, the three of you engaged in random chatter. People filed in and out, working crew trying to eat quickly so they could get back to their spot on set and prepare for the next shoot, crew that wasn’t working sets that day still having a lot to get done behind the scenes. A few people had come and left your table but none of them touched the seat beside yours, knowing that Spencer would inevitably arrive and want to sit beside you.

He wasn’t coming, though, and you knew that.

You and Spencer both really valued communication, and you were normally really good at it. But with how exhausted you both were, neither of you had the energy to have an argument lately. You’d gone two full days without speaking unless completely necessary. Your last text from him had been from the morning earlier; We need two, not one. It had been about batteries, you’d been sent on a run to the supply closet for an extra one.

You hadn’t even been aware of how it started. One night he’d been kissing your temple in the parking lot, preparing to go back to his apartment while you went back to yours and the next morning you barely spoke.

You couldn’t even corner him about it at work. You’d tried to approach him in the kitchen, assuming he’d just been too busy to text you or stop by your desk like he usually did in the mornings. “You okay?” You’d asked him gently, hand on his arm gently.

He’d given you a pinched smile, “Yeah, babe.” He turned back to the fridge, shutting it stiffly. “I gotta go, call time’s in ten and I need to talk to Alex about the Games video we shot last night.”

You’d stood there in the office kitchen as he walked away. He didn’t approach you the rest of the day, but you had been on the same set for a few hours.

No text that night, no kiss in the parking lot as you parted ways, not even a dumb tweet he thought you’d like. Hell, he hadn’t even messaged you on Slack.

Shayne watched you eat with his eyebrows raised. “You okay? You’ve been quiet all morning.”

You looked up to see both Shayne and Angela looking at you. You hadn’t even realised the conversation had dropped off. “Oh, uh.” You shook your head, more at yourself than at them. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just one of those weeks, y’know.”

“It’s almost over,” Angela rubbed your arm sympathetically. “Just today and tomorrow and then it’s the weekend. Do you have much on this afternoon?”

You had to pull out your phone to check your schedule. You had two more shoots for the day but they were spread out so you were still gonna be at work for quite a while. Maybe you could take a nap in the green room between shows. “Yeah, I’m doing You Posted That? and then we’re playing whatever game or something tonight.” You rubbed your eyes.

“Hey, tomorrow you only have TNTL and then reddit,” Shayne said encouragingly. “Early afternoon. Go home and get some rest, you look rough, dude.” It was all said with love, so you just grimaced up at him.

“Okay, can I tell you guys something in confidence?”

Both of them immediately nodded, abandoning their forks.

“I think Spencer’s avoiding me,” you admitted softly.

Shayne and Angela were probably two of your closest working friends. The three of you often sat in the back of groups and giggled together like you were ten. When you’d first started working at Smosh, you’d been somewhat awkward around your castmates when you weren’t filming. You guys made each other laugh but you weren’t sure whether or not they actually liked you or if they just laughed along with you on camera to avoid awkwardness. That hadn’t lasted long, though, and now you felt like you could actually have serious conversations with people.

“I was wondering why he wasn’t here,” Angela admitted. “Usually I can never get you alone at lunch, I have so many TikToks I wanna show you.”

You shrugged. “He’s been weird for a couple of days now, like, look at this.” You pulled out your phone and showed them your text history or now lack thereof. Shayne saw the one message from the past three days and his eyebrows raised higher.

“And you’ve tried talking to him about it?”

You nodded, locking your phone and putting it on the table. “He basically ran out of the kitchen when I asked him if everything was okay. By the time I was done for the day he was already at home, he usually stops by my desk if he’s leaving earlier than I am. I wasn’t in a shoot or anything.”

Angela slackened, leaning against her elbows on the desk and looking up at you with a frown on her face. “That’s definitely weird, yeah. Yeah, no, that’s weird. You guys didn’t argue about anything or anything?”

You shook your head, fidgeting with your nails. “Monday everything was normal, now I’m here.”

Your phone buzzed with your alarm that you’d set, you had fifteen minutes until your call time for the next shoot. You’d mostly finished eating but you picked up your fork again and poked at the remaining food on your plate. “And like, I don’t know. I’m not spiralling, like I know that he loves me and everything and I don’t think we’re on the brink of breaking up or anything, I just have no idea what’s going on.”

Angela reached over and squeezed your wrist. “Anything I can do? I won’t do anything unless you tell me too, obviously, but I can talk to him about it if you want?”

You let out a puff of air and shook your head. “No, but thank you for the offer.” You stood, taking your little container of food to drop it back off at your desk before you went to set. “I’ll see you guys later? Thank you for letting me talk.”

“Of course, babe.”

“Yeah,” Shayne said genuinely. “Let either of us know if we can help?”

You moved through the next few hours as best you could, putting on your most entertaining face for the camera. You didn’t win the game but you also hadn’t embarrassed yourself a supreme amount, so you took it as a win. By the time you had to be on set for your final shoot of the game, you’d had a coffee and you were ready to head home. You didn’t let being tired stop you, you were still bright and smiley, the way the audience was used to seeing you.

You definitely regretted not reading the call sheet beyond your own call time, though, because Spencer was sitting at the table on his phone.

You didn’t know whether you were allowed to sit beside him. You wanted to, and you were sure that he wouldn’t get angry with you, but would it make the experience awkward?

You pretended to go back to your desk for something, hoping that at least one other person would be at the table before you had to sit down. This was why you never showed up anywhere early.

By the time you got back, your prayers had been answered and Courtney and Shayne had taken the two seats on either side of him. You slid on the other end of the table, across from Shayne, who smiled encouragingly at you.

“Hi!” You hadn’t seen Courtney all day and she smiled widely at you. “I tried that recipe you sent me last night and I think I’ve decided that I want to marry you.”

“Aw man,” Shane put a hand on his forehead, shaking his head as he glared at the table. “Didn’t even get a year in, I owe Damien twenty bucks.”

“Oh my god, wait, we’re kinda on a cute little double date right now,” Courtney giggled. “Look at us go.”

Courtney hadn’t been present at the table during lunch, but they could definitely tell that something was going on between you and Spencer, if only from the fact that he hadn’t already leaned behind her to tell you a joke that only you would find funny.

She waited until Spencer and Shayne got up to be mic’d to turn to you, voice hushed. “You okay?”

You rehashed the story as quickly and quietly as you could and she frowned. “I was wondering why he came and ate at my desk but I just assumed you were busy or something. That’s weird. It’s not gonna make the video weird is it?”

“No,” you assured them. “We’re adults, and as far as I know, we’re still together,” you’d said the last part jokingly. You were adults, you wouldn’t have broken up over something like this, not without a lot of discussion first, but you still had no idea why he was basically giving you the silent treatment.

“Alright, guys,” Alex called out and Spencer slid back into his chair. He shot you a smile and you returned it while Alex outlined who was giving the intro, how many points you needed to win, etc, things that you didn’t necessarily think about until you were doing them on camera. “And we’re rolling in three…”

Shayne started talking to the camera and you fidgeted under the desk. You really enjoyed filming for Smosh Games, it was probably your favourite channel to film for. But also, it was hard to enjoy a board game when you were on four different cameras. You’d have to talk to Kortney to make sure you didn’t look completely tired and bummed out the entire time in the final cut.

You managed to get through the first few rounds okay, making the group laugh a few times and getting a few moments that would make the video. It had started when someone made a dumb joke, some sort of thing about a really sophisticated cat or something, and Spencer had bounced off it. “Yeah, my neighbour across the hall is like, moving in with their partner or something, and I ran into them in the hallway a couple of days ago and offered to help with a box they were kinda struggling with and the box was just labeled ‘Lemons,’” The whole table giggled at that, trying to figure out where he was going with it. “And I was like… “Okay, this person has a thing for lemons I guess?” but then I go into their apartment and I find out that they apparently both had cats, right? And so my neighbour had a cat and now their partner’s cat is also moving in. Apparently both of the cats are called Lemons!”

That really got Courtney, their head getting thrown back as she laughed. “No way!”

“They’re soulmates, dude,” Shayne nodded.

Spencer looked over at you, path completely clear now that Courtney had scooted her chair back. You knew the one of Spencer’s neighbours that he was referring to, he’d told you the story as the two of you walked to your cars the afternoon after it happened.

“Would that be something that you were interested in?” He’d asked after a second, taking out his keys with the hand that wasn’t holding yours.

You liked cats, but your apartment didn’t allow them, and you also didn’t know if you really had the energy or the time to deal with a pet right now. You shook your head. “Not really, I’m fine solo over there,” you’d said.

Spencer had nodded and kissed your temple, right beside your eye on the side of your face. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he’d said in a low voice.

Spencer, at the games table, seemed to watch you have the realisation in real time. Your eyes had drifted back to the table in thought for a second and they came back up to lock with his. You looked a lot more resolute than you had before, and he was a little bit nervous.

He hadn’t been ignoring you to be immature, it had been honestly wanting to back off so as to not make you uncomfortable. He’d tried to take a step and you hadn’t wanted to, and he respected that. But he also didn’t know if what he had previously been doing was also what you wanted, so he was trying to just get to the weekend when he knew you’d be feeling better enough to maybe have a full conversation about where the two of you were at. You’d celebrated your one year anniversary two months earlier, he saw a future with you. He’d been confident that you felt the same way, you showed him consistently, but now he was worried he’d overstepped in ways he hadn’t realised. He’d thought you’d have said yes, maybe he was wrong about other things as well.

Your eyes were soft as they met his, flicking away to listen to Shayne talk. You weren’t having this conversation in the middle of the shoot. He turned to listen as well, but the two of you had both relaxed in the shoulders slightly, hoping that maybe by the end of the night you’d be on the same page.

The shoot wrapped up pretty quick with Courtney sweeping the game. You were the one to run through the ending spiel, like, subscribe, all that stuff. Once Alex finally called cut, Spencer was quick to lean over and murmur. “I gotta talk to Alex really quick about some stuff, I’ll be ten minutes max.”

You nodded at him and he practically ran to Alex, opening up his bag and pulling out a folder of something probably important. Shayne and Courtney watched the interaction. “Guess he’s not avoiding you anymore?”

“I realised what happened literally in the middle of filming,” you sighed, rubbing your face. “Oh my god, I’m so stupid.” You had to laugh, it was silly.

“He asked me to move in with him earlier this week. I said no because I thought he was asking if I wanted to get a cat.”

Both Shayne and Courtney also had to laugh. “No, that’s so dumb, I’m sorry,” Courtney put her forehead on your shoulder as a sign of support for a second before lifting it up. “At least it’s something you can fix easily.”

“Yeah,” Shayne nudged you. “You’ll be fine. You got this,”

You nodded, more just relieved that you’d figured out the problem so you could solve it. You knew Spencer hadn’t intentionally kept it from you, he’d thought you’d known this whole time. Spencer still didn’t know that you were unaware of your rejection, he’d just seen the love-filled look you’d given him and assumed that meant you still wanted to see him.

Shayne and Courtney packed their stuff up and headed off, not without both giving you an equally cheesy thumbs-up as they walked through the door. Spencer and Alex were both still nodding seriously at whatever piece of paper they were looking at, but they both smiled at you as you left to go back towards your desk.

You grabbed all your stuff and then stood outside the pod for a little while, dragging the toe of your shoes across the concrete flooring as you waited for your boyfriend. “Hi,” his voice was quiet but not awkward as he approached you from behind.

You didn’t wait, you wrapped your arms around his neck and he hugged you back with no hesitation. “I love you,” you mumbled into his neck.

“I love you too,” he replied immediately. “You okay?”

You nodded, pulling back just enough that he could see your face. “Yes, just stupid, I think.”

He laughed, ducking his head. “Yeah you are pretty dumb, aren’t you?” You pushed him off you and he took your hand, the two of you heading outside to your cars. “What specifically led you to this discovery?”

You squeezed his hand and stopped walking, pulling him off to the side so you weren’t standing in the middle of the road, coming to a stop in front of his car. “I thought you were asking if I wanted a cat.” You explained. “Last weekend, you asked ‘do you want to do that?’ and I thought you were talking about me getting a cat.”

He just smiled, still looking slightly confused. You squeezed his hand again and it hit him that time. “Oh! No, no, that’s not… no, I wasn’t asking if you wanted a cat.”

You nodded as if that was obvious. “No, I know that now.”

“No, that’s on me I asked it super vaguely,” he reasoned, swinging your joined arms slightly. “I thought you were saying no and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t like, smothering you or whatever. I didn’t want you to think that you not wanting to move in with me was going to make me super clingy or something.”

“Not at all,” you replied honestly. “In fact, you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me. If we’re living together I’m gonna be all over you like grease on those weird pans you have. We’re throwing them out by the way, I refuse to cook with those things.”

He laughed loudly, it almost echoing around the small parking lot. “They might not be non-stick but at least I don’t burn my hand on them every week like I do with yours.” His eyes were filled with a comfortable happiness behind his glasses as your hands still swung. “Wait,” he stopped you. “Does this mean you want to move in with me?”

You didn’t even bother teasing him that time. “I would love to,” you said honestly. “But seriously, you can keep the pans. I won't make you get rid of them, but I can not use them.”

He groaned, looking at the ground as his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the worst girlfriend ever.”

“I have a perfectly good apartment, you know.”

“No, you already agreed,” he pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours for the first time in what had literally been days. “You’re moving in with me and my weird pans.” You didn’t even bother replying to that, instead kissing him again slowly. He let you. You were overdue for one anyway.

#spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #spencer agnew fic #smosh x reader

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klebald · 10 days ago

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So far, all that there is available about Natalie Lynn "Samantha" Rupnow, the Abudant Life Christian School shooter. This is for the sake of giving information, and seeing as she is a complete loser, it is not to "glorify" what she did.

She was fifteen years old, being born on November 7th, 2009, as well as being a biological female, however possibly transgender according to some? I am not finding many sources on this, so I am not sure on that's reliability. She also seemed to have a hatred for men, which leads me to unsureness on her being transgender. She had entered the school prior to going through with the shooting and seemingly attended classes as normal, before going into a study hall that housed students of mixed grades, and opening fire using a 9mm pistol, hitting six students not including herself; Critically wounding two and injuring seven. The school had a population of 390 children at the time of the shooting, and students ranged from grades K-12. She amassed a total of three deaths including her own, firing at a student and a teacher before turning the gun on herself and dying on her way to the hospital in ambulance. The first police call was made by a second grader at 10:57 A.M, before the school also called the police department themselves, and the shooter is reported to have shot herself in the head by 11:00 A.M after little police engagement was made in attempt to subdue. By 11:05, officers had entered the building and retrieved her weapon, where they had also found her body. Fifteen minutes afterwards, at 11:20 A.M, a public safety alert was received by phones in the area. Not long after the shooting occured, the school's facebook page made a post requesting prayers and making indication that a shooting had happened. Two student victims have been released from hospital custody after having their injuries cared for so far, as well as a teacher who is still currently in hospital and no victim names have been released. It is reported that she had planned the shooting prior some, and there are pieces of a manifesto that she uploaded faultily to Twitter available, as well as three confirmed photos of her at the time I write this. As far as we know, there is no conclusive motive as for why she went through with the shooting, but she was seen to have interest in the TCC seen by her Twitter (as well as her clothing choices). Below are all confirmed photos linked to her, as well as her apparent "manifesto". This was not very easy to compile as there is a lot of information being given out, all at once, but what is known to be true/very widely speculated is what I am including in this.

#tcc tumblr #tc community #tccblr #teeceecee #true cringe community #tcc fandom #abudant life christian school #madison shooting #wisconsin shooting #samantha rupnow #natalie rupnow

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unteriors · 3 months ago

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Since you're Australian, why are so many of the posts from the US? Did you start with Australia and then move onto other countries once you'd felt like you exhausted it? Or is the US particularly interesting for your purposes?

A big part of the reason is the enormous difference in scale. Australia has about 25 million people, versus 300 or so million in the US. Each of the 50 states has at least one or two major cities, most have many more than that. In addition to the volume of real estate imagery produced by this market, there are a few things about the US in this context which draw me in from an Australian perspective. One is how real estate listings weirdly embody how much more visually apparent the harmful economic forces of the past 50 years are in American society than they are here or elsewhere. Australia's welfare state was developed roughly during the same time as in the US, and has similarly been cut back since the 1970s. But it was always much weaker in the US than in Australia or Western Europe, and correspondingly the effects of its deterioration - along with other economic trends - have been much more visible than they are here. The way this is played out in terms of localised funding for public services means that many American cities have pockets (of varying sizes) where poverty and other forms of systemic oppression are concentrated and left open to the elements. The sort of stuff Jacob Holdt documented in his photos in the 70s, or that you see in a lot crime films and thrillers with location shooting. Gentrification and other forces since then have pushed these pockets into other areas and made some places seem less grim, but from what I've heard it seems like it would be hard for the average person in the US to ignore that these large, systemic problems exist. Conversely, in Australia, this kind of intense poverty has been pushed into the margins of society during the same time period - to remote communities (where people suffer from chronic diseases that have been eradicated in most other wealthy countries), country towns with shrinking economies, or to the fringes of larger cities (where people sleep in their cars in parking lots, or multiple families form sharehouses to afford $400-500+ pw rents). Though as things have gotten worse, particularly since COVID, it's getting harder to ignore. But still there's a substantial part of the population here who have grown up in ignorance of any of the larger, percolating structural problems in Australian society, and who proactively retain that ignorance into adulthood.

I think you can see these different perspectives play in out in real estate listings. In most American states, even in most of the towns I've looked at, you can see a broad spectrum of living conditions (and commercial interpretations of ideal living conditions) - from burnt out trailers, to overpriced renovated shitty older houses with cheap grey vinyl flooring and white walls, to clearly lived-in time capsules to McMansions to actual mansions. Some photographs are clearly shot by owners, others by real estate agents with a great variety of care and attention to detail (from elaborate staging to crime scenes). Rightly or wrongly, I feel like I get a broader, more honest (or at least more direct) feel for the housing crisis. It's a more honest horror film.

Australian listings, I think in part due to concentrations in corporate power in the real estate industry (similar to other monopolies that have formed in our economy), tend to more heavily adhere to the visual language of advertising and are more heavily regulated by agencies. The problems still exist, the housing market here is among the worst in the world and little effort is being made to address the underlying structural issues, but you can see the lack of will to acknowledge these issues in the level of gloss that's applied. You can look at a listing of an older house in Western Australia, for instance, and know for a fact that it's riddled with asbestos and probably has several other structural issues, but most likely enough time and effort will have been spent on staging and lighting and maybe surface-level renovations that it will seem otherwise fine. Lots of turds that have been polished successfully enough that you need insider knowledge to properly identify them as dogshit. Incidentally, I spent part of my childhood in a house built in the 1960s that had asbestos in the walls and ceiling.

I'm still interested in images from Australian listings (and other sources) though, I just look for other things that are interesting. Anything that runs contrary to the artificially positive, limited world view that advertising promotes. Even if its a poorly-lit time capsule that is directly aesthetically opposite to the ideal of house-beauty at the moment, or an obviously run-down house that has had every realtor photography trick in the playbook thrown at it until it becomes deeply uncanny. And it's always interesting to see what other people find interesting; I genuinely think the housing crisis underwrites every other political issue we have to contend with, its tendrils extend in many different directions, and I think this also means imagery like this can reach people in a diversity of ways. Aesthetically, nostalgically, inspiring fear and self-loathing and horror. All good sources of inspiration for creativity.

#anon feedback #Australia #enormous self-indulgent essay answers #that don't really address the point

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novelmonger · 4 months ago

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I wasn't expecting it to take this long, but after a million distractions, I'm back to going through the LotR audio commentaries and taking note of any interesting tidbits I haven't heard before.

Please enjoy my notes on the RotK design team commentary with Richard Taylor, Tania Rodger, Grant Major, Alan Lee, John Howe, Dan Hennah, and Chris Hennah:

They had to make Deagol's ears out of waterproof gelatin rather than latex because he was going to fall in the water, and the normal latex ears would have come off. I guess they must have done the same any other time a Hobbit got submerged, but they didn't say that.

The fish that Gollum eats at the beginning is made from some kind of edible gelatin so he could actually bite into it. They also had another prop fish that wasn't edible that they gave Andy Serkis to keep at the end XD

The little stone hollow thing where Frodo and Sam are sleeping for their first scene in the movie was a set they built with a removable back wall so they could get a camera in to shoot it from the back as well as the front. Why did I never think of that before?

There were a couple of extra shots they needed of Orthanc in the background to finish up the movie, but they hadn't managed to get the footage from the miniatures (and I guess the miniatures were gone by that point? idk). So they took one of the model collectibles Weta had made and took some photos of it out in the parking lot XD

Whoooooaaaa! Okay, so Alan Lee talks about how, in legends, they say that you have to kill a wizard three times for him to stay dead. And Saruman dies "three times" - first he's stabbed, then he's impaled, then he's drowned. So Saruman is dead dead. Dare I say it? This is...I think this is a better death than the one in the book ._.

They even put carvings on the crossbeams underneath the seats of the chairs in Edoras! You are never ever going to see them, but that was their dedication to making everything feel authentic. That's what sets this apart from so many fantasy movies and shows made these days.

Red in the costumes is meant to suggest royalty. That's why Aragorn, Boromir, Theoden, and Theodred all have red in their costumes - as well as Bilbo and Frodo! You're meant to look at someone wearing red and unconsciously think, "there's something regal about them."

John Howe points out that you probably wouldn't ever reforge a sword like they do with Narsil, at least not in the sense of putting the pieces back together, because it wouldn't be as strong as it was originally. (You could melt it down and start over again, of course.) But, he reminds us, these are the Elves, and it's more of a symbolic thing anyway.

The great hall in Minas Tirith was inspired by Charlemagne's chapel (and Byzantine architecture was one of the main influences on the design of Gondor in general).

The statue of the king in Ithilien was made out of polystyrene, which you would think would be pretty light, but it was so huge it was actually very heavy. They had to transport it to the location in three pieces: the base, the body, and the head. And to lift one on top of each other, they had to rig a sort of pulley system over the limb of a tree, using a four-wheel drive truck to pull it. But they discovered that the first truck wasn't getting enough traction, so they hooked a second truck up to it, and ended up pulling the first truck up into the air along with the statue!

They created fourteen new weapons just to put in the background of the armory in the scene where the Witch-King is getting ready for battle @_@

John Howe said that his inspiration for Minas Morgul was...getting his wisdom teeth pulled??? He describes a metal clamp digging into the perfectly healthy enamel of his tooth to pull it out, and draws a parallel to the metal pieces the orcs fitted to the top of the pristine white parapets, staining and violating them. Um...thanks, I could've done without that visual, John.

I can't believe I never thought about this before, but there's a little wooden roof over the pile of wood for the beacon that Pippin lights. The reasoning behind that is you need some kind of cover to keep the wood more or less dry for when it needs to be lit in an emergency. The beacon will burn away the wooden roof, but it can be replaced easily enough, and it's worth it to be able to quickly light the beacon.

A lot of the saddles they used were ordered from the Indian military, because they had a good, old-fashioned sort of look to them. Then they would add onto the saddles with things that would make them look distinctly Rohirric, rather than Indian.

Alan Lee's daughter worked on some of the figures in the doors of Minas Tirith!

John Howe goes off on this whole tangent about how there's no religion or religious structures in Middle-Earth, and why that might be, but the whole time I was just sitting there going, "...have you never read The Silmarillion????"

Because they had to make over a hundred suits of Gondorian armor, other than the hero suits, they couldn't make each one exactly the right size for the man who would wear it, so the casting department had to only get actors within a certain range of size. They also built the suits of armor with sliding pieces, so they could be somewhat fitted to different sizes.

The horses started out as being part of the art department's responsibility, but as time went on, there were just so many horses they had to keep track of (and the various liveries they would have to be fitted out with) that they had to make a separate horse department to oversee it all.

Because so much of the movie was filmed on-location, in some very remote locations, they had to make a sort of caravan of mobile repair stations that they could take with them. They had all the tools and crew necessary on hand wherever they went so they could repair broken props or ripped costumes, reapply makeup for gore and injuries, take nicks out of the edge of weapons.... It was really like moving an army around!

For the dream where the Evenstar breaks, they made a version of it that was five times bigger than normal, out of a very brittle resin. Then they made an oversized section of the floor and dropped it from a great height so it would completely shatter in a dramatic way like that.

Anduril was John Howe's design. He based it on a sword belonging to a friend of his in Germany, which to him is the ideal sword, the most beautiful sword. He also talked a bit about how Men were taller and bigger in the First and Second Ages, so their swords would have been longer.

John Howe: "Why do people criticize Tolkien for not developing his characters sufficiently? I cannot fathom that kind of criticism. I think it's done by people who don't read between the lines."

Richard Taylor said they had a lot of fun gathering up all the skulls after each take in the Paths of the Dead to put back up at the top so they could be poured down again. Apparently Viggo liked to gather them up and try to throw them at the crew members! "Many hours of skullduggery was to be had," as Richard put it XD

Apparently, they'd made dozens of really finely detailed silicone heads to be lobbed over the wall of Minas Tirith, but then all but one of them were stolen! So they had to quickly put together some crude latex ones to use in the shoot instead (one of which the mayor of Wellington threw). They didn't talk about this, but I'm assuming the one good head that was left is the one that gets a close-up. You have to wonder who out there was sitting around with a bunch of highly realistic latex severed heads in his basement or something....

While most of the siege towers are miniatures or CG, they built the top third of one and put it on tracks so they could move it up against the wall. They built the set with breakable ramparts for when the little drawbridge thing crashes down.

They had the same trouble in Minas Tirith that they did in Helm's Deep, with the battering ram being too heavy for the stunties to lift. But they never actually explained how they got around that problem, if it was the same solution or not :/ All they said was that they had replaceable panels in the doors, in case they were damaged by the battering ram.

In order to make Shelob's webs, they had to heat up two polymers and mix them together to make the stringy, sticky material. In order to mix them, they had to be heated up to 220 degrees C, but if they got up to 228 degrees, they would burst into flame @_@ After they were heated and mixed, they would dribble the mixture on top of a vat of water, where it would cool in spiderweb-like shapes. Then they would lift it out on a frame, and they could carefully place it on the set. One time, the polymers did burst into flame, and they were running out of fire extinguishers to put it out! O.O Eventually, they did call the fire department, who said they'd done everything the fire department would have done. They got the fire put out, but it was a nerve-wracking moment, because the room where they were making the webs was connected to the studio, so it could have been disastrous D:

Bernard Shaw apparently got the idea to do that whole bit where he knocks his sword against the row of spears when he saw the collection of spears all lined up in a row in the art department.

The "oil" that Denethor pours over himself and Faramir is a mixture of glycerin and water. (I always wonder about these things, so I'm really glad they mentioned it.)

When they were filming the pyre scene, they had a silicone dummy for Faramir on the burning pyre. Apparently somebody on the crew brought "David Wenham" a cup of coffee over because they thought he'd fallen asleep on the side of the set, only to discover that it was a dummy! XD

The horse rig they made for close-up work of people on horseback got affectionately nicknamed "the Phony Pony." The first day they brought it on set, Peter Jackson got up on it and "rode" the horse, making the whole crew laugh XD

One of the ideas that Peter Jackson came up with for the mumakil in a brainstorming session (which Richard Taylor says he's still not sure if PJ was serious about or not) was that they could suck up several riders in its trunk and then fire them out like bullets. I'm...really glad they didn't go with that, whether PJ was serious or not <_<

Alan Lee says that the first time he saw the dead mumakil that Weta made for the set, the body was hollow, and some of the crew had set up a TV inside it and were watching a rugby game XD

The last miniature they built for LotR was the Minas Tirith docks where the Corsair ships come in. It kept getting put off until almost the end of the shoot, so they only had five days to put it together! @_@

All of the dead horses are fake, of course, so Weta had to make them all. They were made of lightweight material, so each day you'd see the set dressers just kind of casually carrying in a whole dead horse and then picking one up from the battlefield afterwards like it's no big deal. They had to do a lot of repairs to the dead horses, because the legs and ears kept falling off or getting bent the wrong way XD

The stone Watchers in Cirith Ungol have Maori influence in their design. I wish they'd talked about that in more detail, but it was just mentioned in passing.

They were concerned about the various copies of the One Ring being stolen, so they kept it in a lunchbox that was labeled "Screws."

The scene where Frodo and Sam join the orc convoy was filmed on location up on a mountain, so they had to deal with a whole bunch of extras in extensive prosthetics and armor, which would make them sweat while they were moving around, but then when the camera wasn't rolling, it would be a challenge to keep them warm. The way they did most of the orcs was that they wore a rubber mask and then a helmet, and they would need to take them off at regular intervals so the actors could get some air. So in between takes, after the director called, "Cut!" there would also be a cry of, "Heads off!" That meant the dressers would have to rush into the crowd and quickly take off the extras' helmets and masks XD

Because the crew was committed to not damaging any of the flora and fauna in the places where they were filming, even in the location that became the plains of Mordor that Frodo and Sam struggle across, there were little flowers and moss that they wanted to protect (and it was a national park). So they would lay down carpets on the ground for people to walk on, so they wouldn't damage the plant life. I'm sure that made for a strange sight, Frodo and Sam struggling in tattered clothing over rocks and boulders, surrounded by perfectly ordinary rugs XD

To do the decapitation of the Mouth of Sauron, they had a headless dummy sitting there, and Viggo would swipe his sword where the head should be. Then Weta Digital put in the head afterwards.

The lava in Mount Doom was mostly a miniature (except for the set where Sean and Elijah did their part), made from methyl cellulose and other things to make it look like lava. They set it up on a table that they would tilt so it would flow down around the model boulders made from urethane.

Richard Taylor said that, at that time, no one had really done a very good CG bird, so he was especially pleased at how the eagles turned out.

There were about 400 people working in the art department total, and most of them had never worked in the film industry before! @_@

Ngila Dickson's philosophy for the Elves was that none of their "crowns" or headpieces would go upwards, but would fit close around their heads and then go down. That's one of those things I've subconsciously noticed all these years, but never really thought about before.

Apparently, a little bit of the graphite used on Aragorn's armor in the coronation scene kind of puffed out when he and Arwen go in for their kiss, and got on Arwen's dress D: And some well-meaning person tried to rub it off, but only succeeded in spreading it around further, thus ruining the dress. And most of the female characters only had one copy of each costume, because all except for Eowyn don't see battle and thus don't need different versions with varying amounts of wear and tear. They're just made to wear in one or two scenes of them looking pretty and walking through a room. But alas, that lovely green dress was ruined.

They didn't have much time with Sir Ian Holm, so they only had a week to get a mold of his face and make the old-age prosthetics for the Grey Havens. But then word came down that he didn't want to have prosthetics, so they were to just make him look old with makeup. They were really disappointed, but then on the day, Ian Holm saw the prosthetics sitting off in the corner and asked what it was. When they explained, he said it wasn't true, and insisted on them putting the prosthetics on instead.

One thing that was really impressed upon me during this whole commentary (over all three movies) was just how much love and joy all of the crew had for the project. Sometimes you watch a movie or read a book that really means a lot to you, that's changed your life, and you wonder if the people who made it fully grasp what a beautiful thing they've created. These people know. They were fully aware, from start to finish, that they were making something truly great and worthy of praise. And I think that's beautiful.

#lord of the rings #lotr #return of the king

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2-dsimp · 9 months ago

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Yandere Spin-offs

Introducing the photographer

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(Bimbo Fem reader!)

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Cw: 🔞MDNI🔞 mutual masterbation, praise, degradation, coercion, dubious consent, thighjob, cum facial, slight humiliation

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Yandere photographer who asks you upfront to model for him in exchange for a hefty fee. Handing you his business card with his name and address in fine print. His name was Covu, he had dark messy wavy hair which covered his tacky circular glasses showcasing dull emerald green eyes. While his body adorned casual baggy clothing with a professional camera slung across his lean shoulder.

Truth be told Covu had his eyes on you for awhile now, so he knew your day by day schedule. From the countless stakeouts outside your job working as a retail worker. With his prized scrapbook dedicated to you, he jotted down everything from your little quirks, habits, to the overall actions you did throughout the day from the photographs he took of you every instance he gets. And from what he already gathered you fell under the ditzy bimbo category who was so sweet and yet so stupidly naive. The perfect match for him.

The photographer couldn’t help but grow enamored with you in every type of way. From your soft sweet curves to your adorable smile and especially from how you make his hands itch with the urge to take candle lit photographs of you in 69 different lewd positions. So today was the day he approached his lovely model, Covu made sure to take extra care in grooming himself to seem like an functional human being just for you. Even though he still looked like a hot bum he was at the very least a presentable one.

“Hey if you’re ever interested in modeling for me. Ring me up and I’ll pay you however much you’re willing to receive”

Covu’s voice was small but blunt and straight to the point as he stared intensely at you trying to burn the sight of his future private model into his lecherous cold eyes. But before he could turn away to head somewhere else to let you think about it, he was abruptly stopped by a short tug of his arm sleeves.

His heart thumped loudly at the sight of you looking criminally cute. As you brightly accepted the offer from a stranger such as himself right off the bat without any care for your self preservation. Licking his lips he couldn’t help but hide the ravenous smirk that spread from ear to ear at your innocent response.

He could feel artblock magically vanish as artistic inspiration began brewing in his mind all thanks to his dearest bimbo of a model. And boy did he have a lot of ideas in mind so best believe he was going to take advantage and put you to work.

"Oh fuck...you're so fucking sexy. Pose just like that for me."

He mumbled under his breath, his delirious green eyes fixated on your enchanting body as you put on the lingerie. You had agreed to model for him under the pretense that the photos will be used for the catalogue of Victoria secret. Diligently he snapped pictures of you from every delightful angle, paying no mind to the tent he was pitching in his baggy sweats. Until Covu couldn't resist the urge to touch himself, his slender hand palming the bulge as he kept his attention on you.

It was time to have you switch positions,

"Now... For this photo shoot we’re focusing on a erotic theme so I need you to start touching yourself down here babe."

Covu uttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to keep himself under control. The temptation of making you his was driving him crazy. As he reached out and guide your hand to your scantily clothed pussy, from observing your confused expression his fingers trailing over your skin as he gave you a tiny devilish smile. From seeing how flustered you were, oh you were just so endearing he couldn’t help but want to tease you even more.

"Yes that’s it work your fingers and follow the natural curves of your body...don't be afraid to explore. Hmm? Why’s my dick out you say? Well that’s to get the sexy mood going on. I am a pro after all and I want to get only the perfect shots”

He announced shamelessly his voice calm and steady as he furiously jerked off at the sight of you obediently touching yourself as per his detailed instructions. Skillfully multitasking between getting nice shots of you in revealing outfits as he continued to work both you and himself into completion. Feeling himself teetering off the edge Covu gritted his teeth and got closer to you, his cock throbbing with need as he jerked off over your body. You both moaned out loud in his art studio unable to hold back any longer.

He watched with foggy glasses as you laid there breathless your juices dripping down your legs. While his mind was consumed with pornographic images of you covered in rivers of his pearly white cum. Taking extra care to examine the thick globs of his cum sticking on your cheeks as it began to slide down. And without saying a word he gently crouched down in front of you shrugging his camera to the side as he angled your blissed out face towards his giving you a sleazy mean smirk.

“You look gorgeous all glammed up in my cum doll but snap out of it. We still got tons of photoshoots to do”

Covu cooed lazily as he relished the sight of you trying to gather your bearing but ultimately failing when he pressed his cold lips against the column of your neck. Leaving a kiss mark on your skin before pressing his forehead against yours staring deep into your eyes as he said in a soft commanding tone.

“Now for this next photo shoot I want to see you on all fours. Presenting yourself to me like the cute little slut you are.”

Once as you got into position, Covu wasted no time in slotting himself behind you under the pretense of fixing your posture via his long. Yanking his sweats down to sandwich his weeping hard long dick between your sweaty plush thighs. Rutting against you in fluid strokes, he made sure to bump the tip of his throbbing cock against your clothed budding clit. Taking out his phone, he recorded your lewd expressions as he messaged and groped at your jiggling fat tits with his other hand.

“Cmon my pretty model~ you need to arch your back and keep squeezing them thick thighs for me. I’m not one for paying slackers you know?”

He rasped in your ear with a impish grin as he toyed with you by bombarding you with his lewd demands. As he stripped you from your lingerie bra to pinch and pull at your full nipples, rolling them between his two fingers. Covu nipped the nape of your neck with his sharp canines. While he pumped his hips, smacking his pelvis against the fat of your ass as his long dick continued collecting the slick from your wet cunt which constantly dribbled down, covering his shaft.

"That's it, baby... just like that you look so fucking erotic does feeling my dick rub up against your wet cunt turn you on that much?"

He chuckled darkly as his nimble fingers found themselves at the hem of your lacy panties, slowly dragging them to the side exposing your quivering pussy. Using his thumb to press against the winking drenched hole, collecting a string of slick your so he could smear it all over his lips. So that he could smell and taste you when he prepared to take things a step further…

Part 2? 👀

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honoura · 4 months ago

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Shaaloani: The Land of Enchantment Part One

Hello again! It's another lore-adjacent post from me about a niche special interest of mine. This time it's Shaaloani, the American Southwest/Northern Mexico inspired zone in FFXIV's Dawntrail.

I want to disclose a few things right at the start just to temper people's expectations: I will not be definitively ID'ing any of the indigenous-inspired structures or visuals as inspired by any specific tribe. That's not my lane! I'm going to link to things that they remind me of, for sure. But otherwise my hyperfocus is going to be on the physical environment, some animals, and the ceruleum as petroleum industry. It's what I recognize best! And what I know best, truthfully.

"Hon why are you doing this?" A variety of reasons honestly. After DT dropped I saw a lot of folks who did at least one of the following:

Commented on the Old West theme park aspect

Called it "miqo'te Texas"

Generally just called the whole map "Texas"

And if I'm honest... it bugged me! Not because I thought anyone was being malicious about it (it's mostly pop culture saturation I'd suspect), but to me it stung a bit that this zone, which I grew up on the fringe of, was... kind of flattened by a lot of people?

I don't know, the response to me just felt like people assumed they knew everything about it because they'd seen it already in movies or TV or Red Dead Redemption rather than the same open-mindedness about what was presented in places like Urqopacha.

This zone isn't just Texas -- yes there are some bits and pieces here (because it's pulling from the Chihuahuan Desert and the Sonoran Desert), but so much of it reminds me of New Mexico, Mexico, and Arizona. There's some Colorado, Utah, and Nevada there too! And the background story going on there is something that still happens in a lot of those states, by both the government and corporations alike.

That variety deserves to be celebrated! So come learn with me about the inspiration for Shaaloani!

Shaaloani Geography

Shaaloani has three major regions in the zone -- Eshceyaani Wilds, Pyariyoanaan Plain, and Yawtanane Grasslands. To get this out of the way, I'm going to tell you the one that reminds me most of Texas.

Ready?

Lake Taori of the Pyariyoanaan Plain.

It's river-fed, with canyons on both ends of the Niikwerepi. The trees crowding around it are cypress trees, as you can tell by the little nubby off-shoots called knees. To compare, here is a photo of cypress trees along the Frio River:

This is also reminiscent of places along the Rio Grande and Pecos Rivers, two significant water sources in West Texas. I also would not call them bayous! Bayous typically have brackish water, are slow-moving, and are way too far east.

However, it could be partly considered a ciénega -- which according to its wikipedia article:

"Ciénagas are usually associated with seeps or springs, found in canyon headwaters or along margins of streams. Ciénagas often occur because the geomorphology forces water to the surface, over large areas, not merely through a single pool or channel."

As a caveat, ciénegas generally don't have trees around them, but I also know that you can't really drown a cypress and they love sunshine. Regardless -- if you see trees in the desert they are typically growing along a water source. Balmorhea State Park has some cottonwood trees native to the area that are going strong.

Yawtanane Grasslands reads as a mix of the Chihuahuan Desert and the Eastern Plains of Colorado. Both are rather arid and home to a variety of grasses that can thrive in such a climate -- which has historically made both areas home to large cattle industries (whether or not this was ever a good idea is debatable, since cattle are very thirsty animals).

Meanwhile the Eshceyaani Wilds looks similar to the Sonoran Desert -- the red-hued soil and rocks, the abundance of cacti with the scrub brush and some drought-tolerant grasses. Here's a shot of the Sonoran within Saguaro National Park in Arizona:

Saguaros also only grow in Arizona in the States! As well as the organ-pipe cactus, which you see in Tender Valley. And prickly pears grow just about anywhere they can get a chance -- as well as barrel cacti, both of which we see in Tender Valley (along with what could be agave!).

You could probably make a case for it being a piñon-juniper scrubland -- everything's very short compared to those cypress trees, including the juniper trees! Piñon-juniper scrubland's found throughout the Southwest. There are also piñon-juniper savannahs and persistent woodlands intermixed in the same places. The difference lay in what plants you find with the piñon pines and junipers.

Visually, aside from the Sonoran Desert, I can also see a lot of New Mexico, like the Ghost Ranch in Rio Arriba:

It matches up with the mountains you can see, and both Yowekwa Canyon and Tender Valley. And of course, Tender Valley is likely a Grand Canyon reference, going by the sheer height of the cliffs. But you could also make a case for Canyonlands National Park in Utah.

There's a shot from Grand View Point Overlook within the park -- the closeness of the canyon walls and the warm earth tones also evoke Tender Valley!

There's also a lot of these sandstone formations in Utah that better fit Shaaloani -- like here in the Valley of the Gods:

Shaaloani Structures

I also at this point want to call attention to one of the two sites with cliff dwellings & adobe structures. We just saw Tender Valley above, which is confirmed to be old Yok Huy structures. But check out these Tonawawta buildings below.

As I stated before, I don't want to state which tribe these two styles remind me of. But I do want to say this again strikes me as another New Mexico and Arizona callback; both the Gila Cliff Dwellings and the Puye Cliff Dwellings are found in two different areas of New Mexico. And the Gíusewa Pueblo, also in New Mexico! Montezuma Castle is found in Arizona, and is pictured below! Look at that rich reddish earth color.

I also want to call attention to the place of worship for the Tonawawta in Yowekwa Canyon:

When I saw it my kneejerk response was to call it an ofrenda. But that's ultimately an incomplete response -- that was just the vibe I felt after seeing them during my life! What it also reminds me of are pictographs and petroglyphs. You find these all over the Southwest (the climate helps preserve them!), but I'm going to link some really great examples. I won't provide images to all though!

Crow Canyon Petroglyphs:

Piedras Madras Canyon at Petroglyph National Monument (New Mexico) Petroglyph Point Trail at Mesa Verde National Park (Colorado) Petroglyph Panel at Canyon Reef National Park (Utah) Nampaweap at Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument (Arizona) Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park (Utah) and the Hueco Tanks State Park (Texas)

In contrast, I don't want to spend a ton of time on the boom town structures in this zone; they are pretty straightforward references to mining towns during the different resource booms (gold, silver, copper, oil).

Similar blocky shapes, built out of wood. One thing I noticed as a neat addition are the decorative patterns painted on it -- again, I don't want to presume if there's a specific tribe tied to this. But I do think it's a neat touch and I want to think that's a design choice to convey the underlying theme that this is a zone at odds with advancing technology and wanting to keep hold of important traditions.

I WILL talk about the ceruleum wells and pumping though. Mostly because I'm impressed that they went with structures that so closely resemble early 20th century oil derricks. Those were also predominately made of wood (including the barrels, yikes!). The pump part of what's called a pumpjack were covered in the old days -- the ones we're most used to seeing now are made of metal and are thus left uncovered.

However, as you can see from this century old rig, even the wheel's made of wood:

I don't think ceruleum gushes the same way oil did -- it seems to behave more like natural gas. However, most natural gas pipelines do burn off excess, which can be seen as a little spout of flame atop.

Oil's occupied an awkward spot in the Southwest, and still does. Aside from the heinous crimes committed in Killers of the Flower Moon (where members of the Osage tribe were murdered for their oil shares in Oklahoma) and the Teapot Dome Scandal, oil is just... well.

Bear with me, I'm about to rag on Koana a moment.

The people who make the most money and have the most power over the average roughneck's life never live in the Southwest. They work in the c-suite and have more money than sense.

I find it very fascinating that DT chose to recreate this dynamic, this uncomfortable push-pull of a region rich in a resource, and it's being harvested at the suggestion and behest of a power that is physically removed from the area. And to some NPCs it's with a certain level of disregard to traditions and practices in place before, with the focus on the nebulous quantifier of 'progress'. Progress how? It depends!

But the folks at the highest seat of power never have to grapple with those questions, because to them it's a fairly cut and dry answer. This is the way to proceed, and if they want to take this nation into the "future", then this is the clear way to do it. It speaks to Koana's fixation on foreign technology to the point he de-values his own (partly due to his childhood trauma, which kind of prepped him to be susceptible to it).

Meanwhile the locals are the ones grappling the most with this change -- how it affects their plants and animals. Sometimes pits open up in the earth and ceruleum burns (which, Santa Rita New Mexico sank multiple times into the earth thanks to copper mining). On the map there's even discolored plants -- and they only occur in the vicinity OF the bulk of the ceruleum pumps.

This is at odds with core beliefs, keeping up with traditional practices. It puts people in the place of 'do I participate in this system, which promises work and the means to take care of my family, even as it pits me against my cultural heritage?'.

Growing up in West Texas, one of the weirdest things to me (to this day) is how many people will claim they love the land. They do! They love the outdoors, they worry over how certain species of animals have become scarcer. But they also work in the single most damaging industry because it pays the most money. It lets them cover bills and give their kids what they never had.

That same push-pull is in Shaaloani narratively; when progress has been thrust upon you, how do you survive it? How do you make sure what's dearest to you comes along with you?

In Conclusion

I want to call it here for Part One -- Part Two after this will cover more observations I had regarding flora and fauna in the Shaaloani zone, and how that also shows the attention to detail given this zone! It's a good time! There will be dinosaurs!

#FFXIV #ffxiv dawntrail #dawntrail spoilers #zone spoilers #shaaloani #ffxiv lore #lore speculation #long post

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theother-victoria · 3 months ago

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homecoming for a shooting star

FIRST | PREVIOUS

SYNOPSIS: home is a warm place now with a cat and someone waiting for you. welcome back, how was your day? tell me about it as we watch the stars go past.

CHARACTERS: alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari, lisa

TAGS: marriage, happy ending, fluff, 5.5k+ wc

TAGLIST: @tragedy-of-commons, @harque, @akutasoda, @khoncore, @moineauz

NOTES: and it's a wrap! this is the final installment in this trilogy. thank u guys for sticking with me over the course of a year from when I first started until now! I read through every single one of your comments and tags and they all stuck with me. I never thought my work could have such a resounding impact on so many people and it damn near brought me to tears when I saw ppl pouring out their life stories to me... sobs... once again, thank u all for your continued support and kind words! <3

Special thanks to pookies @mikashisus and @tragedy-of-commons for proofreading this for me!

“(Name), what are your thoughts on marriage?”

The question comes out of nowhere one day. No dropped hints, no special occasion, nothing. You practically spit out your morning coffee out of shock. He merely stares at you expectantly over the rim of his mug.

You wipe away the coffee from the corners of your mouth as you hurriedly gather your thoughts. Marriage… you can’t exactly say you’d never considered getting married to him. It’d be nice. A peaceful life with the one you loved. Simple, perhaps repetitive, but after all you’ve gone through the past several years, you don’t need anything unexpected upsetting your life again.

It’d also get your parents off your back, who sporadically attempted to reach out to you, but it’s not like you cared much about their opinions anymore.

“... Is this your way of proposing to me?”

He shrugs and sips his coffee again.

“Depends on how receptive you are to it.”

His gaze feels even more piercing than usual and you bashfully avoid it as you take great interest in Thamina napping on a sunny spot atop the kitchen counter.

“... I wouldn’t mind it,” you eventually say. “I’d quite enjoy it, actually. A quiet, peaceful life with you, sipping coffee and spending time with our cat.”

Alhaitham lightly chuckles.

“I’m glad to know we feel the same.”

It’s then followed up with an affectionate sigh as he turns to look out the window. Thamina wakes up from her nap and leaps into his lap, purring contentedly.

“Doing taxes with you doesn’t sound bad at all.”

You’d never realized just how stifling the confines of your parents’ house was until you moved in with Alhaitham.

The walls of your childhood bedroom were littered with academic awards and accomplishments, but no personal touches. Nothing that provided an insight into who you were as a person. No decorations. No plants lining the walls of your room, no sentimental photos with friends or even family. Just a boring room with the bare minimum and a desk stacked with schoolwork.

(To be fair, you didn’t really have a personality outside of your academic achievements back then… but that’s all water under the bridge now.)

But when you first stepped foot into the rented house and took a look around, it was as if a switch had been flipped inside your brain. Maybe you just realized you were an adult now and had free will.

And for you, that means the walls and surfaces of your shared home are covered in photos. Most of them are your doing. Your job as a reporter for Sumeru’s biggest newspaper has you traveling a lot and you never leave a nation without a photo or two. Mondstad’s vast grasslands, Liyue’s rocky cliffs, Inazuma’s stormy skies, and Fontaine’s high-tech city and quaint countrysides decorate the walls and flat surfaces of your house. Silly photos of you and Alhaitham on dates and vacations can be found as well, much to his mild embarrassment since many of them are unflattering.

Sometimes, he regrets getting you that Kamera as a graduation present.

And this barely scratches the surface. Your more personal photos are stashed in the many photo books lining the bookshelves, including the one of your first kiss in Fontaine.

This house is almost a home now. It certainly has the feel of one.

The air smells of rich spices as you prepare dinner for tonight. You got off work early today and Alhaitham comes home to help not long after. After greeting you with a hug and cheek kiss and Thamina with some chin scratches, he leaves to get cleaned up and returns to help.

The both of you settle into a comfortable, familiar routine. He stands at the sink handling the prep and cleanup while you’re at the stove taking care of the actual cooking. Thamina lounges comfortably atop a chair while grooming herself before falling asleep. The air is warm and silent, save for the sound of ingredients being chopped and Thamina’s rumbling purrs in her sleep.

It’s clear that you’ve settled comfortably into this place now. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have any grievances.

You’re at the stove and stirring the simmering pot of curry now. Alhaitham usually dislikes soups or anything with a liquid consistency, but your curry is thick enough for him to give it a pass.

Oh, and it’s delicious too. Can’t forget the most important reason.

You’re digging through the spice cabinet now. The cabinets in the house are small and the dim lighting doesn’t help as you search for a particular bottle in the overflowing cabinet.

Not this, not that…

Eventually your fingers close around a bottle that feels about right and you grab it, shaking some of the contents into the pot. You freeze when you see and smell something that is definitely not what you were looking for.

“Fuck,” you grumble under your breath as you shove the spice jar back and keep digging for the correct one. Alhaitham keeps an eye on the stove so the pot doesn’t boil over in the meantime.

“I wish we had better lighting in the kitchen. It’s too dim in here,” you grumble when you finally find the correct jar and frustratedly shake its contents into the pot.

Alhaitham hums in response.

“Maybe larger cabinets too.”

He hums again.

He starts setting the table now. The drawer where the utensils are stored is in the corner next to the stove, making it a tight squeeze for the both of you. His arm bumps against you as he reaches for the cups stored in the overhead cabinet, making you drop the wooden spoon into the pot. The cup slips out of his grasp and almost falls on your head.

“... Just make the whole kitchen bigger at this point,” you sigh as you begin plating the food.

“Agreed.”

The kitchen window is cracked open as you sit down for dinner together. It’s still sunny outside and you can hear the sounds of dogs barking, birds chirping, and the sounds of an argument between some of your neighbors somewhere nearby. The curry tastes a little funny from the spice mishap earlier, but it’s nothing that can’t be overlooked.

“Did anything interesting happen at work today?” he asks, as per usual. You shrug,

“Well, I’m being sent out to Liyue in a few days. A traditional festival is being celebrated and they want me to go in and photograph the entire thing.”

He hums. “Have fun and be safe. Festivals can get-”

You brush him off with a wave of your hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Spare me the lecture. I’ll bring you back some treats as I always do too. How does some sticky rice dumplings sound? The ones with the filling you like as well.”

That seems to satisfy him because he doesn’t say anything else for the remainder of dinner until your usual bathtime after the dishes are cleaned.

The bathroom upstairs is average-sized, but the bathtub was clearly not designed to accommodate two people at once- especially someone of Alhaitham’s size. His knees awkwardly bump against the side of the tub as you sit between his legs and your own knees are hugged uncomfortably to your chest. You try to distract yourself by playing with a rubber duck bobbing along the water’s surface.

“... A larger bathroom would be nice,” he says, eventually speaking up. You quietly laugh.

“You think so too?”

He hums in acknowledgement and readjusts his grip around your waist.

After the bath, he goes back to the living room to continue reading while you stay in your shared bedroom to begin packing. Clothes, Kamera, backup film reels, notepad, spare pens, Mora…

He soon hears the sound of running water from the bathroom and he knows you’ve finished packing and you’re getting ready for bed now. When he peeks into your shared bedroom, he sees you already curled up under the covers on your side of the bed and the lights off. Thamina rests comfortably above your head, perched atop the fluffy pillows and making biscuits.

You’re on the verge of falling asleep when you feel something warm brush against your forehead and you smile, knowing exactly who it is.

“You’re still awake.”

He says it like it’s a statement rather than a question. The familiar scent of sandalwood and eucalyptus grows stronger as he crouches down beside you and you finally open your eyes. You sleepily smile up at him and he ruffles your hair.

“In my defense, I was about to fall asleep. You were the one that woke me up,” you say, words slightly slurred from sleep and interrupted midway by a yawn.

“Sorry. I thought you had fallen asleep already.”

You rub your eyes and quickly glance at him.

“You’re still fully dressed even though it’s past your bedtime,” you observe.

“I have something quick I need to take care of. I’ll be back soon.”

You hum and close your eyes again, sinking back into the pillow.

“Be back soon then. Don’t wanna sleep without you tonight. Not when I’ll have to for a week or so in just a few days…”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes affectionately as he closes the bedroom door behind him on his way out.

“Clingy,” he murmurs under his breath with no real bite to his voice. He grabs his keys and a nondescript notebook off the coffee table before he leaves.

He stops in front of another house and knocks. He can hear angry muttering from inside and internally chuckles, knowing that he must’ve woken him up.

A few minutes later, the door is slammed open, revealing a familiar face. Alhaitham looks Kaveh up and down, still in his sleepwear. “Couldn’t even put on something presentable before greeting guests?” he taunts. The blond glares at him.

“Shut it, Alhaitham. It’s 11 pm.”

He pauses as his mind finally starts working again.

“Wait, why are you even here? You’re usually asleep by-”

“Are commissions still open?”

Kaveh goes slack-jawed at the sudden question. Alhaitham can practically hear the gears in his mind turning as he works out an answer with the sleep clouding his mind.

“I… uh, yeah they are. But why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

“Good. I’ll keep this brief then. I’d like to commission you to design a house.”

Stunned, Kaveh watches as Alhaitham tears off a slip of paper from his notebook and hands it to him.

“These are all the features we’d like to have.”

“Larger kitchen… more spacious kitchen cabinets… bigger bathtub… huh, these don’t seem like things you’d be particularly picky about,” he mutters as he squints at the writing. Kaveh blinks, and a few seconds later the realization seems to hit him.

“Wait, did (Name) request all of this? Does that mean-”

“It’s getting late now,” interrupts Alhaitham. “We can work out the details and payment later. When are you free?”

By now, Kaveh is fully awake. He shakes his head and glares at him.

“You are so lucky I consider you a friend! I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” he hisses under his breath. He shakes his head and sighs.

“Fine. I’ll accept this commission. I’m free tomorrow starting at noon.”

“I’ll meet you after work then.”

“Deal.”

“Care to go on a walk after dinner?”

You look up at Alhaitham sitting across the table from you. He tilts his head to the side when you meet his gaze, an expectant look in his eyes.

You blow on your food to cool it down.

“Sure. Weather’s nice outside. Might as well.”

Half an hour later, you’re strolling through the city. You stop by the Padisarah Pudding vendor you’d always frequent in your Akademiya days. The vendor still recognizes you, even all these years later.

“This part of the city is really nice,” you say around a mouthful of pudding. You’ve ended up on the other side of the city now.

“It’s too far from work for my liking.”

You pout and scowl at his remark.

“Oh come on, what’s there not to like? There’s more to do around here, we’re not as isolated, and it’s warmer since all the houses face south.”

“My point still stands.”

“Haithie, an extra five minutes to your daily commute isn’t going to kill you!”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, but he files that bit of information away.

Later that night, he meets with Kaveh briefly at the tavern.

“So, on the opposite side of the city?” Alhaitham nods. Kaveh’s head dips, deep in thought.

“I know a place that you guys will for sure love,” he finally says. “Come with me to take a look at it tomorrow. If it’s to your liking, we can begin construction immediately.”

A few days later in the early morning, you’re getting ready to leave for your boat to Liyue. As per usual, he accompanies you down to the harbor and helps you adjust your bags.

“We’re grown adults now and you still insist on doing this for me. Not that I’m complaining, of course,” you say as you spin around. He tightens the straps on your bag.

“Force of habit.”

You look back at him with a fond smile and glint in your eyes.

“Can’t shake it from our Akademiya days?”

“Is it so wrong that I want to see you off each time?”

You laugh and shake your head, returning your gaze to the boat pulling into the harbor.

“No, not at all. I like it, actually. Having someone be there for when I leave and when I come back.”

He watches your boat leave until it’s out of sight before leaving. He has a meeting with Kaveh in a bit he’s going to be late for.

The chime above the door at Puspa Cafe jingles as he walks in. He orders a drink and goes upstairs, where he spots Kaveh instantly. He’s sitting by a window with blueprints spread out across the table.

Alhaitham takes a seat across from him.

“This future house is going to be very costly since so much of it has to be custom-made,” says Kaveh, not even sparing a glance at Alhaitham. “Makes me wonder how the hell you can afford this…”

“Wow, not even a greeting?”

The blond rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Hi. That promotion to Scribe must’ve been handy, right?”

Alhaitham takes a sip of his drink and nods in satisfaction.

“There we go. That’s more like it. And to answer your question, yes, but I’ve also been saving up for quite a while now.”

“Don’t have to rub your success in our faces,” mutters Kaveh as he reorganizes the blueprints so they’re splayed out on the table neatly. “Anyway, these are the designs I drafted based on what you guys wanted.”

He lets his gaze roam over the blueprints until it finally lands on one that catches his attention. Hm, the kitchen layout is better than the rest. The bathrooms are quite spacious too. There’s even an office on the first floor. Not that it matters to him since he leaves his work at the Akademiya the moment the clock hits five, but he knows you have a tendency to work around the clock.

(He can practically hear your voice already. “These headlines won’t write themselves, after all,” or something like that.)

“This one.”

“Had a feeling you’d choose that one,” Kaveh says without missing a beat as he gathers the other blueprints and puts them away.

The rest of the meeting goes smoothly. He signs the contracts and makes the down payment. Kaveh gets to work assembling the construction crew and materials needed.

“Since this is a custom house, it’ll take nine to twelve months to complete. Honestly, just anticipate at least a year before it’s finished.”

Alhaitham nods.

“And remember,” he says as he begins packing up. “Do not tell (Name) about this. Keep them in the dark as if your life depends on it.”

“From the tone of your voice, I’d say it does,” scoffs Kaveh. Alhaitham sends him a glare that shuts the blond up.

When you return a few weeks later from Liyue, you bring with you a backpack full of snacks and several reels worth of film, now photographs. And of course, a kiss to his cheek as you walk back home, talking his ear off the entire time about what you saw and did. He listens attentively, humming and nodding along as you speak, with an occasional remark or question thrown in there.

But despite your energy, you’re still tired after a long trip back home. As soon as you get home and your bags are unpacked, you immediately head to your room to take a nap. Alhaitham tucks you in, telling you to not worry about dinner tonight and to get some rest. Thamina immediately leaps onto the spot beside you and nestles into your side.

You sleepily mumble something about how good it feels to be back home. Alhaitham can’t help but sigh and shake his head affectionately.

This isn’t home yet. Just you wait.

“Wow, that’s a nice spot for a house.”

Alhaitham follows your gaze to a construction crew assembling the foundation for a large and spacious house. You’re on your daily post-dinner walk now, on the other side of the city that you like.

“They weren’t there the other day. Looks like they’re working fast.”

Kaveh is really pulling out all the stops for him, isn’t he? Alhaitham can’t say he’s surprised. Despite the rocky relationship from their Akademiya days, it’s undeniable that Kaveh would do anything to see his two best friends happy together (for the rest of their lives).

You nod in agreement.

“Yeah. This future homeowner sure is lucky though…”

He has to fight back a smile.

No, (Name). You’re the lucky one here.

Over the next few months, you watch as the house slowly comes together before your eyes. The foundation and frame are finished and bit by bit, the rest of the house is installed. Windows, doors, sheathing, insulation, paneling, siding, and all. Occasionally, you spot Kaveh on site working with the contractors. When that happens, you’ll stop for a bit to chat with him. You’ll ask him how the construction is going, to which he’ll say it’s going smoothly and they’re on schedule.

Strangely though, he never divulged who the client was. He keeps it vague, saying it was a wealthy client who commissioned it for his future spouse when they got married.

“What a lucky person,” you sigh.

(“Could you get any more obvious without giving everything away?” hisses Alhaitham when you’re looking the other way.

“Hey, as long as I don’t explicitly tell them it’s you commissioning it, it’s fine, right?”

(Alhaitham has never wanted to throttle Kaveh more in his life than now.)

Kaveh stops by one day when you’re in the garden. You’re weeding out your vegetable plot when you hear the crunch of footsteps approaching. The familiar sight of your friend greets you and you eagerly sit up and smile, wiping the sweat off your brow in an attempt to make yourself more presentable.

“Oh, Kaveh! You didn’t tell us you were stopping by! I would’ve prepared some tea and snacks otherwise…”

He waves your concerns off with a laugh.

“No need to. I’m just here to speak with Alhaitham. It’ll only be for a bit. Is he home?”

You nod.

“I’ll go get him.”

A few minutes later he emerges from the house, a little disgruntled after being woken up from his mid-afternoon nap.

“Make this quick,” he grumbles. You pointedly nudge him in the ribs.

You continue your work in the garden. Alhaitham glances at you after a bit, where you struggle with a particularly stubborn weed. His Dendro vision comes to life and the weed wilts before everyone’s eyes. You easily pull it out of the earth and flash him a thankful smile. While you’re occupied with the rest of the weeds, Alhaitham turns to Kaveh.

“So? What’s the occasion?” whispers Alhaitham.

“Good news,” Kaveh whispers back. “We’re ahead of schedule. The house should be finished within three months from now.”

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow. Kaveh scowls at him.

“Oh, wipe that surprised look off your face!” he hisses. “I know what you’re thinking of, ok? Turns out I can actually get work done- ahead of time as well.”

“I never said I doubted your ability. It’s just that seeing you ahead of schedule and not exceedingly behind is a rare sight indeed.”

“You-!”

Alhaitham cuts him off with a soft chuckle.

“Just kidding. But thank you, really.”

Kaveh stares at the man with a half-assed disgusted expression, clearly not used to seeing his friend all sentimental and genuine.

“Wipe that look off your face! It’s so uncharacteristic it’s giving me the creeps.”

With a dramatic shudder and a roll of his eyes, Kaveh looks back at you in the garden, where you’re still tending to the plants and blissfully unaware.

“(Name) really deserves a happy life after everything,” he murmurs. Alhaitham nods in agreement, his eyes still trained on your form and with a soft expression that’s reserved for you only.

“They really do.”

Over the next few days, his friends start acting weirdly. They have sly grins on their faces and say encouraging words to him out of nowhere, even going so far as to pat him on the back and congratulate him. For what though?

Instantly, Alhaitham knows something’s up. If he recalls correctly, Kaveh went out to the tavern last night and had a few drinks with the construction crew… And knowing him, a “few” drinks meant several glasses of wine and counting.

Oh no.

When he gets off work the next day, he goes on a manhunt for Kaveh. He spots the blond heading home, covered in dirt from spending a day at the construction site, and stalks toward him.

“Kaveh.”

The blond freezes at his voice and slowly looks up to meet his gaze. His leg twitches like he’s about to make a run for it at the sight of his longtime friend’s angry expression.

“... Yes?”

“Did you run your mouth last night while drunk and tell everyone that I was going to propose to (Name)?”

“...”

“Answer me, Kaveh.”

“... Perhaps?”

An uncharacteristically loud groan escapes his lips as he sighs. He massages his temple, already feeling the headache forming.

“Great. I was planning on having it be a private proposal too…”

Kaveh winces, feeling regretful about throwing a wrench in his friend’s plans.

“On the bright side, I don’t think (Name) has heard anything about it yet. I think everyone had the sense to keep their mouths shut about this…”

That much is true, realizes Alhaitham. You still seem oblivious to what’s been happening over the course of the past year. So it should work itself out in the end, right?

Kaveh is praying everyone keeps their lips sealed. His life is on the line if someone lets it slip.

Literally.

As predicted, Kaveh stops by three months later to tell him that the house has been completed. He takes off work the next day and until you return home, he bides his time, making sure everything is in order and that he still has the ring on him.

Dinner is already prepared when you return home. He needs to make this quick. He only has a limited window of time to act.

As soon as you’re done, he almost immediately asks if you’d like to go on your usual walk, then practically grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the house with him. He’s nervous, even though he knows he has everything under control. The ring is with him, the weather is pleasant, and you’re nonetheless wiser, but his heart keeps pounding uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering what the hell has gotten into him.

The sun is starting to set when you arrive at the newly-completed house. Recognition flickers in your eyes.

“Want to take a look inside?”

“... Are we even allowed to?”

“Relax. I got the permission of the contractors and Kaveh to do so.”

He gently leads you inside. The place is unfurnished, but everything is clean and the wood gleams brightly in the light of the setting sun.

“It’s really spacious,” you remark as you step foot into the kitchen. The cabinets are a lot bigger than the ones at your current house. “And bright too.”

You head upstairs. The rooms are spacious as well, especially the bathroom.

A larger kitchen. Brighter lights. Bigger cabinets. A larger bathtub. At least, compared to your current house. It’s also just nicer overall. No more squeaky floorboards, no more cold drafts, and no more of the issues that come with an older house. It’s also quieter too, which you enjoy. Your current house is located near one of the busier streets in town, meaning you always hear people- even if it’s the middle of the night and it’s just a drunk person stumbling back home. Out here, however, it’s quiet, clean, and sunny. You couldn’t ask for anything else.

A thought begins to form and gnaw at the back of your mind.

You head out to the backyard, where you see a considerable portion of land is enclosed within the fence. Meaning you have plenty of space for a garden now.

…

You sigh mentally. He isn’t as slick as he thinks he is…

The sun is starting to dip beneath the horizon now. A cool breeze gently rustles the tree leaves and your hair. With his warm hand still wrapped around your wrist, he leads you out to the front again. The street is devoid of all people except for you two and the street lamp flickers to life behind him.

“We have already discussed this before, therefore I believe there is no real purpose in delaying this question. However, I know you are one for ceremony so I will abide by your wishes.”

Why the sudden formality is your question, but you let it slide. He takes a deep breath and runs his free hand through his hair. You’ve learned that it’s a tic of his when he’s nervous.

“I have always been confident in every decision I make. Every circumstance, outlier, and variable will be taken into consideration. Regardless of the consequences of the action or the weight it carries, I have almost never, if ever, felt anything other than certain that I have made the right decision with what I was given. And yet now… I find myself uncertain and self-assured at the same time.”

He turns to face you and lets go of your hands.

“Am I making the right decision? Or am I not? This time, you will be the determining factor. My heart is in your hands now, (Name).”

You watch with bated breath as he gets down on one knee and pulls out a box to reveal a glistening ring.

“Will you marry me?”

The world goes completely silent. It’s just the beating of your heart and earnest gaze of his exposed eye, patiently waiting for your response.

That is, until you hear rustling coming from the bushes a few feet away from you and some familiar voices carried along the wind.

“I can’t believe it’s happening!”

Your gaze flicks over to the bushes. So does Alhaitham’s.

“Uh oh, I think they saw us…”

“Quick, hide!”

“We’re already hiding though…”

The spell is broken. Alhaitham clicks his tongue and glares toward the direction of the noise, irritation evident in his eyes.

“He spotted us!”

“And here I was hoping we could eavesdrop without being noticed…”

Slowly, four people step out from behind the bushes, bashfully avoiding your gaze. Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, and even… Lisa?

Your jaw drops and your eyes practically pop out of your head at the sight of her. What’s she doing here?

The question must’ve been written all over your face because she chuckles.

“Little brother Cyno over here wrote me a letter telling me everything. When I got it, I dropped everything I was doing. I couldn’t possibly miss out on my dearest cutie’s proposal, after all.”

Lisa not being lazy for once? That’s something new, you think.

A gentle tug on your hand makes you refocus on Alhaitham again. Ignore them, says his gaze. But his gaze flicking back to them every few seconds tells you he wants them out of the picture for now. Kaveh, thankfully, gets the message and practically pushes everyone away out of view to give you two some privacy.

“They’re gone now, Haithoomi,” you say once they’re out of sight. “You can continue now.”

He exhales and rolls his eyes.

“Damn Kaveh, always finding a way to upset my plans…”

But the remark is lighthearted and he quickly refocuses.

“Will you marry me?” he repeats. His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard before, like he’s afraid to hear your response.

…

This silly man. As if you’d say no after all you’ve been through together.

“Despite all your mannerisms, there’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. But I’m sure you already knew I’d say that, right?”

“I simply drew upon past information and conversations we had.”

You shake your head affectionately.

“Ever the pragmatist as always.”

A rare smile stretches across his face. He takes the ring out of its box and slips it onto your finger. It glides on smoothly and fits like a glove. When did he get your ring size measurement? Not like it matters anymore anyway.

You take a moment to admire it. It’s a simple and elegant ring with a standard gold band, but the massive emerald in the middle catches your eye. It gleams and sparkles in the evening setting sun. Smaller diamonds and emeralds encircle it and you can safely say you’ve never seen anything quite like it.

This, plus the house behind you, must’ve cost him a fortune. How long had he been saving up for? You’ve been seeing him come home later as well. Had he been working overtime even though he hates doing so?

“Haitham, you really shouldn’t have done all of this...” you choke out past the lump forming in your throat. He shushes you with a finger to your lips and dabs away at the tears in the corners of your eyes that you didn’t even realize were forming.

“But I did. And it’s because I wanted to. You, of all people in our friend group, deserve a happy life the most. After all we’ve been through together, I thought it was only fitting that I would be the one to make that happen.”

You let out a shaky laugh and blink the tears away. He graciously looks to the side.

“Imagine if I had said no.” That elicits a faint chuckle out of him too.

“That’d be quite the predicament I’d find myself in then. I can’t exactly return a finished house, can I?”

It turns out your friends were hiding right around the corner because as soon as you’re done, they rush over and swarm you with congratulations and well-wishes. They marvel over the ring on your finger and ask you questions about when the wedding is and your future together.

“About time,” says Kaveh as the two of them watch Lisa scoop you up into a tight hug and twirl you around from a distance away.

“Like you’re one to talk. How’s your love life going?”

Kaveh bristles and glares at him.

“I’m working on it, ok?! I can’t with you sometimes…”

The blond sighs and shakes his head before continuing.

“Not only were you the first to get a job and then become a homeowner in our friend group, but now you’re the first to get engaged as well! Stop rubbing your success in our faces, Alhaitham!”

The sun has set now. Surrounded by friends and the love of his life, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

A faint twinkle in the sky and the sound of something hissing overhead makes everyone pause.

It’s a shooting star.

It’s a small one compared to the one you saw during your Akademiya years, and a bit dimmer too, but it still has a tail to call its own as it speeds through the skies. Although it leaves as soon as it arrives, it leaves behind a multicolored afterglow above your new home that shines brighter than the star itself.

Alhaitham wonders where it's heading toward. Since it already entered the atmosphere, it’ll most likely disintegrate before reaching ground. That’s the logical answer, at least.

He casts a glance over at you, where you gaze up at the sky with a starry-eyed expression. You’re still as enamored with celestial events as you were years before, it seems. Some things never change.

But perhaps this shooting star has finally found a home to return to as well.

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