#whichever one might bother her more

[devotioncrater]

got a crush on one of my best friends (at the time) and it was mutual (i found out through another friend) but when i gave her flowers she ignored me for weeks, then lied to me that she didn't feel the same way, told that other friend she liked me but the flowers had "killed her vibe" and she hasn't even looked at my face (it's been more than a year and we crossed paths quite often)

btw she's a lesbian and an evangelical christian which i feel had something to do with... that whole thing

[chelseeebe]

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[lightlycareless]

Naoya's reaction when y/n's thighs expand 3 times its size when she sits down. For my girlie's that have thick thighs 🙏🙏 plus me. Serious insecurity but damn wouldn't that be Naoya's 2nd favourite thing after tiddies. Definitely would give some criticism that y/n don't exercise enough and that's why her thighs are like that,but would br also smother his face between her thighs? Yes

Hello anon!!

Ngl when I first read this ask (the beginning) I was like HUH? But then I read the rest and was like ugh same. I kind of relate to what you feel, that plus chafing and what not 💀

ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy this debauched piece. :) ehehehe dunno what was going through my head but I liked it.

warnings: NSFW. THOUGH NOT DETAILED, THERE'S SMUT. MINORS DNI. Naoya and the Zen'in are perverts, some more explicit than others. Also misogynistic views, unwanted commentary about bodies.

Happy reading!

You know what I was thinking?

Naoya being so obsessed with your body, that the moment he sees you he doesn’t even bother to make formal introductions or anything; nope.

He just needed to see you sit down one time, one time, unwittingly getting a very detailed look of how your thighs just become bigger underneath your skirt, alongside the adorably cute way you attempted to tug the edge down to avoid revealing too much (Naoya had seen more than enough at that point, of course he did.) and that was it for him to know you’d be the perfect wife.

So, fast forward a few weeks, after making the right arrangements, you’re effectively married to him, “happily” living in the Zen’in estate, where he can keep an eye on you, close to whenever he might need to make use of your wifely commitments—but most importantly, underneath constant scrutiny that not even your role as future Lady of the House could save you from.

The torments you’re subjected to here aren’t ones you haven’t heard before, in fact, you’ve heard enough of them to not care anymore…

But perhaps being married to Naoya, something that many cautioned would probably never happen due to your appearance, was enough to finally make them hurt.

His family just couldn’t… wrap their mind around the fact that from all women in the world, literally anyone else, he chose you: the epitome of laziness as they’d like to say. The sheer example of not being able to control one’s selfish desires in favor of temporary satisfaction.

In a world where thinner, athletic physiques were encouraged, you sure stood out like a sore thumb.

It wasn’t your fault, though. Some people were simply born that way, with different genetics and there was nothing wrong with that.

But to them, that was not enough of an excuse, if there ever was one; and once you heard for the last time how Naoya was simply tolerating you because, well, because of some unknown reason, you had enough.

You were tired of constantly hearing them belittling your worth, comparing you to whichever woman they brought along to hopefully convince Naoya into divorcing you—or at least sow his seeds on a more suitable candidate; a fact made worse when he seemingly didn’t put a resistance to their invitations, chipping away at your confidence.

And above all, you were exhausted of unwittingly highlighting the faults in your relationship, the clear signs that Naoya was never truly happy with you, such as those scarce moments of intimacy the two shared. Those that you didn’t think much of, outside of fear and pain, for he never struck you to be the kind, patient lover (and he wasn’t).

But now that these issues were highlighted… you could only feel sorrowful.

Naoya, while insatiable when it comes to lust, seemed to have only spent the night with you for political reasons. To fulfill his duty of securing the future of the Zen’in—not because he ever harbored desire for you.

Yet, why did you even expect otherwise? For he too demeaned you with cruel commentaries, and with the one thing you were mostly self-conscious about…

“You know, your thighs wouldn’t be that big if you actually worked out or something…”

“Don’t wear that. I don’t want you to show your legs—it’s already unbefitting a woman, but in your case… well, it’s only necessary.”

That was more than enough to finally push you to the edge and do the one thing many were constantly pestering you about: not to eat. Though in your defense, it’s not like you felt like doing so anyways, the voices and faces of those that hurt you were quick to put you back in your place if you even did as little as consider it, ruining your appetite.

And you managed to keep this way for a few days, at least until you began to grow sick, tired, unable to tend to your duties as you did before, which did not escape your staff’s attention, and subsequently, Naoya’s.

“What the fuck is wrong with you??” Naoya would exclaim first thing upon returning from a mission; tired. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the complaints of your lacking commitment, the only goddamn thing you had to do around the estate. “To go ahead and cause problems to my family, taint my name—have you got no shame?!”

“I didn’t mean to…” you murmur, yourself tired as well, due for other reasons, made worse by Naoya’s reproach.

“Then do you mind explaining what the hell were you thinking? What were you planning to do? Get my attention??” He frowns. “Dramatic, but what else could I expect from a woman like you?”

“Please, Naoya… I don’t feel like arguing…”

“No, of course not. You don’t feel like doing anything, do you? Not even eating!” He remarked. “What? Trying to lose some weight, now? Is that what’s gotten into your mind?”

You remain silent, giving him enough of an answer. He laughs.

“So it is that!” He boasts. “I can’t believe it, Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be so stupid to actually do that!”

“Leave me alone…” you whisper, tears beginning to pool around your eyes.

“To what? Puke your guts out, now? Don’t be stupid!” Naoya continues to jest. “I knew women were desperate, but I didn’t think you’d break the mold!”

His words, perhaps out of your already brewing insecurities, or simply because you’ve grown tired of his mockery, wash you over with an unprecedented wave of anger, dropping your heart to the pit of your stomach as you sharply turn around, ready to take a stand for yourself once and for all.

“And why do you care so much, hm, Naoya?!” You cry. “Weren’t you also one of those that always bothered me about my weight? About how embarrassing I am to your name simply because of the way I look?!”

He flinches, startled by your reaction at first, but soon angered by it as well.

“I won’t tolerate your disrespect—” he frowns, yet you don’t let him continue.

“You even ask me to cover myself up!” you gasp. “You’re so—you’re so disgusted by how I look that you—you wouldn’t mind if I spent the rest of my life locked away so you won’t ever have to see—”

“Do you hear yourself?” Naoya seethes, taking your hand and pulling you to him with such strength that instantly startles you, making you squirm in reaction, trying to move away but he keeps you still, understanding you’ve officially made him furious. “Do you hear the stupidities you’re spewing?!”

“Leave—leave me alone.” You whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks. “You’re hurting me!”

“I ought to hurt you more for insulting me!”

“Insulting… you?” you repeat, confused. “How was this insulting to you?!”

“You think I’d let you walk around the estate like a whore? Let you display what’s mine?!”

“Naoya, you’re not—you’re not making any sense.” You respond, shame settling in your heart. “If you’re going to make fun of me—!”

“You’re fucking stupid, did you know that?” Is all that he says before pushing you against the wall, making you whimper when roughly hitting the wooden pillar behind, a noise that is quickly shut by his lips landing on yours, wasting no time for his tongue to battle yours, subduing you. “So fucking stupid…”

He’d murmur, you moan.

“Na—Naoya—” you breathe, torn apart by his desire and your confusion. Didn’t he… dislike you? “St—stop!”

“What is it that you wanted me to do? Stand aside as my family ogles at you?!”

“Don’t you mean—don’t you mean scrutinize?!” you gasp, flinching when his lips move from yours, down to your jaw, then neck… “Stop—stop mocking me!”

“I should feel offended by your stupidity, if anything.” He responds, pulling away from you to take a good look into your teary eyes—as if trying to assess if you really declared such atrocity, or if it was work of his own anguished mind. “Your blindness to acknowledge what I truly think of you.”

“They—they hate me.” You tremble, why would he want you to remember such an awful thing? “You hate me—”

“No, Y/N.” Naoya groans, pressing closer to you while taking your hand once more to move it down to his groin where his hardening cock was in full display for you to feel, destroying the perceptions you had of everything around you—around him. “This is what you make them feel— what you make me feel!”

“Nao—Naoya—” you tremble, trying to move away your hand from his growing length, intimidated that he somehow felt even bigger underneath your palm; giving the impression his desire for you right now was much stronger than any other instances. But… how? Or more likely, Why? “I don’t—I don’t get it—!”

“Do you really think I’d be blind to the way they stare at you? To their futile attempts of bringing you down, of changing you, just so they’d stop thinking what your skin feels like underneath their fingertips—or how sweet your cunt tastes like?” Naoya breathed, continuing to rub your hand against his cock, desperate to let you know how much he needs his release—how he wants to throw this senseless discussion away…

But not without declaring his upper hand, the one he always had with his family, of course. “But they can’t” He smirks. “The moment I saw you, I knew you’d be the perfect wife, the perfect mother for my children.”

The thought of harboring such desire from Naoya made your cunt tighten, the same way his cock twitches.

“They’re just jealous I got to you first.” He continues. “That I was able to see your worth just by your wide hips and ample bosom—you’re the epitome of femininity… but even better—

You’re all mine.”

“But you—but you said horrible things to me—” you cry, his lascivious words still not enough to remove the pain from those awful moments. “Why…?”

“Aw, my love.” Naoya chuckles, cupping your face with his hands and squeezing it so softly, making you pout, a face he always loved to incite from you, amongst others. “I just can’t help it; your reactions are so adorable; you simply make it too easy.”

His hands then travel down to the edges of your skirt, lifting your kimono just enough to reveal your smooth legs to him, the same ones he always had touch and kneed whenever you were close, the mere sight of them enough to make him further spiral into his desire—

If not anger when seeing the flimsy piece of cloth covering your cunt, fingers quick to grab the edge and rip it apart, letting out a quick gasp from your mouth.

“How many times have I told you to stop wearing these stupidities?!” He hisses. “You know damn well than to go against the words of your own husband!”

“But you—you hadn’t touched me.” You fret. “Since that night, we… you hadn’t—I didn’t think it was necessary.”

“You truly couldn’t be any dumber, could you? Just because I’ve been busy does that mean you can go on and disobey my words?” Naoya accuses with a jesting tone that serves to place the direction of his following actions. “My lovely wife is really that naive… luckily for you, I’m the one in charge of doing all the thinking, while you—you just have to stay like this, ready for me…

To take my cock like the good whore of a wife you are, with that lewd body of yours that is only mine. Exclaiming for me to give you a baby, make you a mother, make your hips wider, your breasts bigger, filled milk—”

And the way your body tightens against him, letting out a moan when his hands parted your legs, guiding his cock onto your dampened slit and gently pushed the head into you, let’s him know this desire has settled in the back of your mind for quite some time, but never revealed itself by the stupidities of his own family, his too undeniably.

But after these agonizing days away from you, forced so by his job, if not those insignificant whores his family brought in an attempt to push him away from you, failing to do so for he quickly discarded them as soon as they crossed his sight…

He’ll never let the opportunity to claim you pass again.

Naoya will do whatever necessary to drill that idea into that little, pathetic mind of yours, even if it means fucking you in the middle of the hallway, where all servants and relatives alike would be able to hear his message loud and clear.

The reality they could only dream of in their most desperate moments—but to him, it was only a matter of taking.

“Naoya—Naoya please—not here.” You whimper, your husband had effectively forced you onto the ground and made you take his cock, either from behind, hands and knees on the wooden floor as he teased and kneaded your ass and hips; he was an avid enjoyed of many positions, but this one had to be one of his favorite ones. To see your skin bounce whenever his hips slammed into you, savoring the way your lewd cunt swallowed him whole, down to the base, with no intentions of letting go, regardless of what you said, it was surprising he still had some restraint. “Please—they’re—they’re going to see!”

“Let them.” Naoya moans, the thought of being caught sends a shiver through his spine; and while it’s not something he necessarily advocated for, the constant, tiring need to be proving his authority over you is what forced him to do so. You might as well play along. “Let them hear how tight your cunt is around my cock! How only I can make you come undone like this—”

“N—No—I don’t—I don’t want…!” you whimper, but even when he changed positions, having you on top of him, giving him sight of the breasts he couldn’t wait to see grow when you’re inevitably pregnant, you still do not stop jumping on his cock, moving your hips up and down alongside his, clenching whenever hitting that sensitive spot that always had you seeing stars. “I don’t want to cum—!”

“Then maybe—Maybe you shouldn’t have this lewd body.” Naoya moans, truly believing that he would never be able to stop himself from using every inch of your body for his own pleasure—from fucking his cock between your soft thighs and boobs, admiring the way they completely cover his cock, drowning it in a combination of softness and his own seed, barely able to see where the tip of his head was…

To relieve that same sensation with his own face, asking you—no, demanding you to smother him with your thighs, a sensation that has him thinking if he were to die this way, cock hard, eased by your soft licks and moans, while deep in the sweet taste of your cunt, he wouldn’t mind it, not one bit.

In fact, he hopes that’s the way he goes.

But he’s in no rush to avoid enjoying the present, the warmth of your body besides him when the two eventually stop, careless to acknowledge if they ever gathered an audience, certainly so when Naoya’s mind was firmly set in getting you pregnant, as heard by his following words.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He declares. “It’s about time you give me a heir.”

And you do nothing but oblige, though you doubted all the cum nestled inside your cervix hadn’t done the job already.

“Naoya, you’re—oh!” You gasp when instead of waiting for you to stand up to properly greet him, he lowers down to your level, taking a seat before eventually resting his head over your lap, taking a deep sigh and resting for the first time after a long week of work. “Is… everything alright?”

In fact, you relished the idea. If it meant getting this side of Naoya’s desire, attention you didn’t think to be deserving of, or even capable of obtaining…. Then you were nothing but obedient.

“I’m tired.” He responds, adjusting himself into an even better position and sighing once more. “I don’t want to talk.”

So, you don’t, preferring instead to softly caress his head, moving some of his silky black threads away from his face and letting him relax, enough to dive into the beginnings of his slumber, but not before clearing his mind from one doubt.

“Our baby—”

“He’s fine.” You murmur, placing your hand over your stomach. It’s still very early during the pregnancy to know so, and yet, there was something about you that just made it so obvious that you were carrying a life inside you—

Perhaps it was the way you glowed, or how you became softer with him ever since it was first announced.

Though the latter was mostly the fact that you started to feel… wanted by your husband, a kind of desire that while far from perfect, was enough for you to change your perspective of this marriage, allowing you to open up to him, mostly so when Naoya now defended you from those unwanted comments from his family.

You’re carrying the future of the Zen’in, after all, some decorum must be maintained.

Yet something tells you his changed demeaner ran far deeper than what Naoya wanted to reveal. «All in due time» you suppose.

“I love you, and our baby too.” You say, instinctively taken by this calm moment of domesticity with your loving husband, not expecting a response considering his somewhat cold nature—only to be proven wrong when he turns around to see you, silently placing his gaze on yours in such way that initially makes you think you might’ve ruined this moment, just for him to pull you closer to him, taking your lips in a soft, quick kiss before returning to your lap, closing his eyes and sleeping.

He may not have said it, but the sentiment was the same, and that was enough for you to be happy.

Naoya is still a jerk, but I like to think he eventually got to genuinely care about you. Also, he got real lucky that one time he thought with his dick, imagine if you were a piece of shit too? NAH He'd lose it. He got real lucky that you were nice, I tell you...

Also, I'm still with the pregnancy stuff :) sorrynotsorry.

OH! and also!! It's safe to say that the things Naoya said are NOT a reflection of what I think!! Everybody is beautiful and deserving of love, no matter what body type ❤️

Now, thank you so much for sending this niche ask... I gotta say, I have been thinking about it since I do relate to it............... but I try to keep my work pretty open-ended so anyone can relate :) Still, if there's something you'd like me to write a bit more detailed, just let me know! I'll be sure to try my best tho, some I might reject if I don't feel like I know much about the matter....

Anyways, thank you so much for this ask ❤️ take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️

[justagalwhowrites]

So this may be awkward but I saw your dbf fic and thought what about best friend's dad? Obviously it would either have to be a no outbreak au where Sarah is in her 20s or several years after the show when Ellie is an adult. Maybe the oc is a few years older than Ellie or Sarah or whichever you choose. Maybe I just haven't read enough TLOU smut but this is one I haven't seen and I would love to read something like this!

OMG Hi bestie!

So THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH THIS??? You sent this in FOREVER ago but I've been so hung up on Lavender and Beskar Doll I just didn't get around to this.

Anyway, HERE'S THE ASK FINALLY! I hope you like it!

UPDATE A/N: This is now a full series (has been for a while but I just realized I never linked to the master list from here.) If you'd like to read more, you can find it here.

New in Town

When you move to Austin for work, your best friend Sarah recommends that you hang out with her dad, Joel, to get to know the area. Sarah just never mentioned the fact that her dad is just your type.

Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Fingering, oral (male receiving), protected P in V sex. Legal age gap (Reader is 35 Joel is 47.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 5.6k (wtf is my problem)

You should have made Sarah text you a picture at the very least. 

The bar was starting to get busy and you’d realized about 15 minutes earlier that you had no fucking clue what your best friend’s dad looked like. 

“You’re sure it’s not weird that I hang out with your dad?” You asked Sarah the morning you left town. 

“It’s not weird,” she waved you off, her curls bouncing. “Promise. He’s not like… an old dad. He’s fun. You get along with me so you’ll get along with him. It’s at least something so you’re not stuck in Austin not knowing anybody.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded and then sighed, looking at your coffee. One last cup of the good stuff in Seattle before your flight in a few hours. 

There was a knot in your stomach at the thought of leaving, now that it was actually here. You’d been in Seattle for two years now after moving here for work. Sarah was the only other woman in your department - not to mention the only other person under 40. She might have been 10 years younger than you but the two of you had become fast friends. She’d been there for a year - she’d started fresh out of college - when you came aboard and was kind enough to let you in on the office politics. 

“So fucking glad to have another girl around here,” she said after you’d been there about two weeks, her arm looped through yours as you walked to a restaurant down the street from your office for lunch. “Lunch just isn’t as good with old dudes…” 

Making friends outside of the office was just as awkward as you remembered and it wasn’t long before you and Sarah were hanging out all the time outside of work, too. She was probably going to be the thing you missed most about Seattle. 

But the promise of a big promotion - setting up your own team at the new branch of your firm in Austin - was too good to pass up. 

“Hey,” she put her hand on your wrist from across the small table. “You’re going to kill it down there. Just remember to demand me when the time comes to add a junior copywriter.” 

“Well, simply no one else will do,” you smiled a little. She laughed. 

You finished your coffee and Sarah dropped you off at the airport - your office paying to ship all your things down - and you flew off to your new life in Texas. 

After a week of settling in, you finally caved and reached out to Sarah’s dad. She told you to just text him and you kind of hoped he wouldn’t respond. Once the ball was in his court, you’d be off the hook. If he never responded and you never met the guy, Sarah could hardly hold it against you. 

“Hi! Is this Joel Miller?” You texted originally, following it up with your name and - just in case Sarah hadn’t bothered to tell him you were going to be texting - some indication that you weren’t a total stranger. “I just moved to town and Sarah told me to text you.” 

“There,” you said to yourself, taking a sip of wine as you sat back on your couch. “Done. Not my problem any….” 

Your phone lit up on your coffee table and you groaned. Of course he texted back. Of course he texted back fucking immediately. 

“Hi,” he said. “Sarah mentioned you might text. Said you might need someone to show you around town. Want to grab a drink later this week?” 

You rapped your fingers against the globe of your glass, the wine lush and red. 

“Sure,” you said. “I don’t start work until next week, so just let me know when and where works for you and I’ll be there!” 

You made plans to meet up two days later. You’d showed up a few minutes early, wanting to get the lay of the land before you met a stranger in a bar. 

Joel, it seemed, was a bit late. You kept looking up at the door, waiting to see someone who looked something like Sarah walk in. But so far, there wasn’t anyone who fit the bill. A few guys who looked like they were UT students deciding to check out something further from campus, four guys who who definitely had just gotten off motorcycles, one man who was almost stupid hot and looked about 10 years too young to be Sarah’s dad and a guy about your age with a date. 

You glanced at your phone. 9:13. At what point did you call it? Maybe try to pick up the hot guy who seemed to be hovering on his own at the bar. You hadn’t gotten laid in a while and you’d at least done your hair and makeup, even if you hadn’t tried to look like you were looking for a hookup. 

Your phone screen hadn’t fully dimmed yet when it lit up bright, vibrating with Joel’s name on the caller ID. You sighed and answered. 

“Hello?” You pressed your free hand against your ear, trying to drown out the sound of the bar behind you, but it sounded noisy on his end, too. 

“Hi,” he said, a bit of a Texas twang in his voice. “Just wanted to make sure you were still plannin’ on comin’ out tonight…” 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “I was wondering the same about you, I’m here…” 

“Where?” He said. “Don’t see you…” 

You started looking around then, too, looking at every face at every table around you before you settled on… the stupid hot guy at the bar. 

Who looked too young to have a kid Sarah’s age. 

Who had a phone pressed to his ear. 

Who was now staring at you. 

You raised a hand and smiled awkwardly, giving him a small wave. 

He looked surprised for a moment before hanging up his phone, grabbing his beer from the bar, and heading for your table. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, setting his drink down across from you and taking his seat. “I didn’t mean to keep you waitin’, I was just expecting someone Sarah’s age…” His eyes went wide for a second. “Not that you look old or anythin’, just… Not what I was expecting.” 

“Yeah, Sarah was the baby of the Seattle office,” you smiled a little. “She’s the best though. Thank God for her, I’d have been so bored there without her.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled and nodded. “She is the best.” 

Up close, Joel was still stupid hot. Uncomfortably hot. It was not fair how hot he was for him to be off limits because he was your best friend’s dad. His hair was dark and a little shaggy and you had to fight the urge to brush an unruly curl back from his brow. His eyes were the warmest brown with a light to them that made you want to just stare at him for a while. His crooked smile with one dimple, his slightly patchy beard, his unreasonably sculpted arms for a man who had to have at least a decade on you unless he was a teenager when Sarah was born. If you hadn’t met him this way, you’d be trying to get him home for at least a one night stand. But he was your best friend’s dad. Even if he made your core tighten and heat pool around your hips. 

It turned out, you and Joel had more in common than you’d expected. You liked the same music and he knew some good live music spots in town. You were both into hiking - and both agreed that the views in this part of the country would be kind of lacking compared to the Pacific Northwest. You both liked trying to find the spiciest food in town and eating it as a matter of principle. 

Of course, you hadn’t spent much time with men the age you THOUGHT Joel was going to be. Your only experience with men in their 50s was at work and that usually involved showing them how to save a word document as a PDF. You’d gone into this expecting to sit awkwardly with the guy for about an hour before going your separate ways. But you were pretty sure he was in his mid 40s, the same age as a lot of the guys you’d gone out with back in Seattle, and the more drinks you had the harder it was to remember that you weren’t on a date. You were hanging out with your best friend’s dad. She probably had to beg him to meet up with you, he probably had a girlfriend he’d much rather be spending time with on a Friday night instead of his daughter’s friend who was new in town. 

But he seemed happy enough to stay for hours. The two of you were laughing over a particularly bad movie you’d somehow both seen - Giant Spider Invasion - when the bar announced last call. 

“Shit,” Joel looked at his watch, clamping his hand over it after a second. “Didn’t realize how late it got. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your whole damn night…” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you waved him off, reaching for your phone for the first time in hours to try and order an Uber. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than entertain me.” 

“Not exactly,” he half smiled at you. That fucking dimple. “Don’t really got a thirvin’ social life. I get the feeling this arrangement was as much for me as it was you, knowin’ Sarah.” 

“She’s cunning, that one,” you said, putting in your destination address. You groaned. “Shit!”

“What?” Joel asked. 

“Surge pricing,” you sighed. “Come ON, it’s almost 2 a.m., it can’t be that busy…” 

“It’s homecomin’ weekend at the school,” he shrugged. “Everyone’s in town drinking.” 

“That’ll do it,” you sighed, bracing yourself to spend almost $100 on a car ride home. 

“I can give you a ride,” he said. You looked up from your phone, frowning. “I’m good to drive.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” you said, about to push the button anyway. 

“You’re not,” he said. “Trust me.” 

*** 

Joel was very nearly in over his head with you. 

Every part of him was practically screaming “mistake, mistake, mistake, you are a big fucking mistake!” 

You were Sarah’s best friend. 

You were more than a decade younger than him. 

You were starting a new job and a new life and he really shouldn’t be trying to date someone he’d just hold back. 

YOU WERE SARAH’S BEST FRIEND. 

But none of that seemed to matter. He was damn near ready to kiss whatever asshole at Uber came up with surge pricing. He’d never been happier for an excuse to give someone a ride home. 

It had been years - at least - since he’d felt like this about anyone. He’d known you for hours, no time at all, but it felt like years. Like he could say anything to you and you’d understand it. You were obviously smart, so fucking smart. After talking about movies with you for five minutes he was half convinced you saw an entirely different movie than he had, talking about allegories and symbolism and holding onto little lines he wasn’t sure anyone else would notice or think about twice. He wanted to see if you’d let him get to know you that way, if you’d have any interest in trying to know him that way. Fuck, he wanted to know you.

It didn’t help that he’d spotted you the second he was in the bar, absently turning your glass in your fingers, looking at one of the University of Texas themed Bud Light posters on the wall like you were examining it, your eyebrows drawn together, your mind clearly somewhere else entirely. You were fucking gorgeous. Gorgeous in a way that it was a problem, it was distracting, it made him not want to think about or look at or consider anything else. It took conscious effort to not stare at you. When he hadn’t known who you were, he’d been praying Sarah’s friend would stand him up so he could go talk to you. Fuck, he wanted to talk to you. 

And then you answered the phone. 

And you were Sarah’s best friend. 

Fuck.

“You settlin’ in OK and all?” He asked after you gave him your address and he programmed it into Google Maps. 

“Mostly,” you nodded. “It’d be better if I could actually get a maintenance guy to come out to my place but…” 

Joel frowned. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“The garbage disposal has a hell of a leak,” you sighed. “I don’t know shit about plumbing so I’m afraid to try to fix it on my own. And the ceiling fan in my bedroom seems like it’s trying break out from its drywall prison whenever I turn it on so that’s been pretty useless. Maintenance keeps saying they’ll come by but they never do. I don’t think I’ll stay in that place longer than a year, this is what I get for apartment hunting from across the country.” 

“I could look at it for you,” Joel shrugged before he was smart enough to stop himself. 

“No,” you laughed and shook your head. “You’ve done enough for me as it is, I cannot ask you…” 

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he said. “I’m a contractor, my area of expertise is fixin’ shit shoddy builders fucked up. You have plans tomorrow? I can come by, take a look.” 

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. That’s what he was. Fucking stupid. 

“Tomorrow would be great, actually,” you said. “I’m just about unpacked but I have a whole box of under the sink kitchen stuff that’s still sitting on my table and driving me insane. But you’re sure I’m not putting you out? I swear, it’s nothing that urgent, I just need to light a fire under management’s ass…” 

“Not puttin’ me out,” he smiled a little at the idea of that. Fuck, you were doing him a favor, giving him an excuse to see you again. 

Stupid. 

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID. 

SARAH’S. BEST. FRIEND. 

“Early afternoon OK?” He asked. “Unless you gotta be somewhere…” 

“Yeah, so far my vibrant social life here includes you and the barista down the street who now knows I prefer my lattes skim,” you laughed. “I’ll be around, come over whenever works for you. I hugely appreciate it, you have no idea.” 

He watched you go into your apartment when he dropped you off, a townhouse that had definitely been built in the last five years. He sighed and shook his head. Shoddy fucking craftsmanship, things breaking that fast. He’d help you find a decent place when your lease was up. 

As a friend. 

Because he could be friends with you. That would be fine. Encouraged by his meddling but well-meaning daughter who’d arranged this to begin with. Friends help friends apartment hunt. He could be your friend. 

He fucked his hand before he passed out, trying to think of anything besides grabbing you and kissing you at the bar as he did. 

“Hey Dad! How’d it go last night?” 

His eyes were still bleary as he read the text from his daughter the next morning. 

“Hey Baby Girl,” he wrote back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. How was it already 10 a.m.? How was Sarah a morning person? She sure as shit didn’t get that from him. “Went fine. Your friend seems nice.” 

She wrote back immediately. 

“She’s the BEST. Seriously. Give her like 5 minutes and she’s going to show you the best food in town, she always found the coolest restaurants up here, places no one else from the office even knew existed.” 

Joel smiled a little at that. He’d heard a lot about you over the last few years, now that he thought about it. He wasn’t big on social media so he only ever saw pictures Sarah texted him - usually a selfie in front of some tourist attraction as she stuck her tongue out at him - so he’d never had a face to put to the stories. But you’d become an integral part of her life in Seattle. 

You’d started as a “cool new coworker.” Then you got a name. And then you just became a “we.” “We went to this awesome new restaurant.” “We checked out this concert last night.” “We decided to go up the Space Needle because screw it, why not be a tourist in your own city sometimes?” He never needed to ask who she meant, he knew she was talking about you. 

He just hadn’t known it was you. 

Which was another reason this was stupid. He could not even consider doing something with you, even just in his head, not when you were that close with his daughter. 

“You guys going to hang out again?” She asked. “I think you’d be friends!” 

Joel ground his teeth for a second. 

“Don’t need you to find me friends just because Uncle Tommy got married.” 

Sarah replied right away. 

“Well if you did it yourself maybe I wouldn’t,” she said. “And she needs friends, too. Plus this is really all for my benefit, if she can swing me coming to the new Austin office and y’all are friends, we can all just hang out together. Way easier to coordinate my schedule.” 

Joel laughed a little. 

“Going to help her with something at her apartment today,” he sent back. “We’ll see if she wants me around after that.” 

Joel managed to keep from going to your house the second he was dressed. This wasn’t a problem he’d had since he was a fucking teenager, obsessed with some girl from his bio class. He was looking at his watch every five minutes, hoping it was reasonable to leave his house and go to yours. 

He called it at 11:45. He figured he’d bring you lunch. You said you liked spicy food - the spicier the better - and if your garbage disposal was leaking, chances are you couldn’t cook much. You’d need to eat something. It was the polite thing to do, he reasoned. 

Joel went to his favorite taco truck and got a little bit of almost everything. It was way too much food for two people but fuck it, he didn’t care. As long as it was something you’d like, he really didn’t give a shit. 

You were in some kind of matching not quite sweatsuit when you opened the door, the tan fabric looking so fucking soft. 

“Hey!” You smiled broadly, like him coming over made your day. You looked at your phone screen. “Damn you really mean early afternoon don’t you?” 

He glanced at his watch. 12:23. 

“Figured you could use some lunch,” he held up the takeout bag. “Didn’t think you were able to cook much, disposal outta commission…” 

“Are you really bringing me food when you came over to do me a favor?” You asked, brows raised. He shrugged. “They weren’t kidding about that whole southern gentleman thing, were they?” 

“Gotta give you pretty things some reason to put up with us,” he smiled a little. You smiled back and held the door open for him. 

Your place was sparsely decorated but comfortable and it looked like you were just about unpacked. Joel set the bag of tacos on the small table off your kitchen and you staked your claim to the spiciest one. 

“If it’s too hot for you, no shame in tappin’ out,” he teased, unwrapping his own taco. 

“I eat men with low spice tolerance for breakfast,” you waved him off. “This’ll be cake.” 

You took a bite and chewed for a second before your eyes went wide. Joel tried not to laugh at you. 

“Holy shit,” you held a hand in front of your full mouth as you spoke, your eyes watering. “That’s so hot! How the fuck…” 

“Yeah, you northerners don’t know what you’re dealin’ with,” Joel smirked. “Welcome to the big leagues.” 

“Oh, it’s on now, Miller,” you said, wincing a little. “I’ve got this, you have no idea…” 

He laughed but you finished the taco, eyes watering and face sweating, the whole way. 

“Alright, think you’ve earned some handyman work,” he smiled a little. You chugged water, somehow managing to look good as you did. “Kitchen sink right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Run the water for longer than 30 seconds and it leaks like crazy…” 

He did as you said, opening the cabinet below. You had a pot inside to catch any stray water. He turned the faucet on and after less than a minute, water was gushing out from the pipe leading down to the disposal. He shut it off. 

“Good news is, it ain’t the disposal itself,” he said, putting his tools down beside the cabinet. “Looks like they just replaced it and did a shit job setting it up…” 

He got down on the ground, lying down so his upper body was in the cabinet just as you came and perched on the counter nearby, watching him closely. 

“Let me know what I can do to help,” you said. “I feel bad, you coming over, bringing me food, fixing my shit…” 

“Don’t,” he said, frowning up at the plumbing. “Got me outta my house… can you hand me the wrench that’s in the lower part of the tool kit, the adjustable one?” 

He heard you slide off the counter to the floor and rifle through his tools before handing him the wrench, your fingertips brushing his when you did. His heart sped up. Fuck this was stupid. 

You settled in on the floor near him, near enough that he’d feel your leg brush his when he adjusted while he worked. You asked him about his favorite band and he asked you about yours. About favorite foods. About the one place on Earth you’d go if money and time were no object. 

“Alright, think I’ve got it,” he said. “Do me a favor, turn the water on…” 

“You sure?” You asked, a frown in your voice. “Don’t you want to sit up first?” 

“I’m confident,” he smiled a little. 

“Alright, turning it on now.” 

And his confidence was correct. 

For a minute. 

And then it was like the floodgates opened and Joel was suddenly soaked. 

“Cut it!” 

You scrambled to obey as he got out from under the sink, dripping wet, shirt soaked. 

“Shit,” he looked down at himself. 

“I am so sorry!” Your hands were over your mouth, eyes wide. “One minute, let me grab you a towel…” 

You ran down the hall and came back with a small pile of towels handing them to him one by one. He started with himself and then put towels down below the sink. 

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” your eyes were so wide and earnest. 

“Not your fault,” he said, getting up, feeling like more than a bit of an idiot. “Your maintenance people just fucked something up big time…” 

“I have a washer and dryer,” you said quickly. “Let me wash that for you…” 

“Thanks,” he said and he peeled off the wet shirt and handed it to you. “Appreciate it…” 

He was so busy trying not to look at you that he hadn’t realized that you were staring at him, looking up him slowly, your lower lip in your teeth. Like you were interested in him, too. Like you were trying to keep your hands to yourself, too. 

Your eyes met his. This was stupid, this was very very stupid. You were standing close to him, so fucking close to him. 

“Joel,” you breathed. 

He was kissing you before he could talk himself out of it. 

*** 

You weren’t sure if he kissed you or you kissed him but you didn’t really care because fuck, he was touching you. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he all but devoured you. 

Like he’d done nothing but think of this since the night before, too. 

You were up for an hour after you got home, cursing your best friend for having such a hot dad and trying to not think about what would have happened if you’d dragged him into your apartment when he dropped you off as you ran your vibrator over your needy clit. 

Because how could you face Sarah if you’d fucked yourself to the thought of her dad? 

But you weren’t worrying about that now. 

Instead, you were leading Joel blindly through your apartment, to your bedroom. Your fingers tangled in his hair - wet from the explosive leak in your sink - as you kissed him. You pulled him against you as you sat back on your bed, crawling back toward the middle of it and tugging him along with you so he was hovering over you. 

“You sure…” he began but you nodded so fast that he didn’t even finish asking, just smiling for a second before kissing you again. 

His tongue was insistent inside your mouth, like he was trying to reach every part of you, but you liked it. The hot, aching need gathering in you liked it, liked that he was demanding and hungry for you to the point that, when his tongue slid back behind his own teeth it’s because he wanted to bite your lip with a growl. 

You squirmed out of the soft wrap that was covering your arms and he pulled at your tank top, peeling it away from you and leaving you in just your lacy bralette you liked to wear before you really got dressed for the day. His hand cupped your breast, palm brushing your firm nipple, and you moaned. Joel slipped his hand into the lace and touched the bare skin below and you involuntarily thrust your hips up toward him. He smiled against your mouth at that. 

“So eager,” he said, teasing. 

“We both have way too much on,” you panted against him. 

“Let me help you with that,” he slid his fingers below the band of the bralette and tugged it up and over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. “Jesus Christ…” 

“What?” You asked, breathless. 

“And I thought you were gorgeous before,” his eyes went over you slowly, tracing the edges of you. “Fucking hell…” 

You smiled and arched into kissing him again, fumbling with the button and zipper on his jeans as you did. When you got his pants open, you slipped your hand inside his underwear, finding his thick, hard cock and stroking him. It was gentle at first, getting a feel for him and fuck he was hard as steel below your touch. He was also easily the biggest cock you’d ever held, so thick and long you knew you were going to be feeling him for hours after you were done. 

Not that you minded. You wanted nothing more than to walk around with a reminder of him inside you for a while. 

Joel’s hands ran over you until he reached your pants and underwear. He pulled them off together, pausing just before your panties would be so far down that they would expose your dripping, aching slit. He pulled his lips from you. 

“This really what you want?” He asked quietly, his eyes searching yours. 

“I’ve been wanting this since last night,” you smiled a little at him. 

“Fuck, I was hopin’ you’d say that.” 

He pulled what remained of your clothes off and cast it aside, nudging you down so you were flat on the bed. He ran his finger over your slit, dipping into you just enough to make your entrance try to grip him but not enough that it gave your body something to hold. You moaned. 

“Don’t worry, beautiful,” he pressed his finger against your clit, rubbing in circles, making you moan. “Gonna take real good care of you…” 

He trailed his finger back down and sank it into you as his thumb pressed against your clit, making your body go tight around him. You rocked your hips against him and arched your back and you heard the smile in his voice as your hands flew to your comforter, knotting in the fabric there. 

“There you go,” he said softly, kissing over your jaw to your throat, nipping and sucking you as he went. “Fuck you’re tight, need you to relax and come for me so I can get inside you…” 

He added another finger, hooking them up into you, pressing into your inner walls and making you get tense and tight before you came hard around him, pussy throbbing so hard it almost hurt. 

“You’re gonna feel so goddamn good,” he groaned as he slid his fingers from you. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down with his jeans before he stroked himself, his fingers still slick with you as he did. 

“One sec,” you managed to find your voice and you stretched back to reach into your nightstand and grabbed a box of condoms. You needed to open it and pull one foil packet apart from the rest. “Sorry, haven’t needed one of these in a bit…” 

“Won’t hear me arguin’,” he half smiled at you. Fuck, that fucking dimple. You opened the condom and slid it on his tip, watching his chest heave as you did. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you took his covered tip in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and using them to unroll the condom the rest of the way onto his thick, hard length. “Fuck, beautiful, tryin’ to rush me through this?” 

You just sucked him for a moment, his head lodged at the back of your throat as you started to work his shaft with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, fingers twisting in your hair, as you went. He moaned as your tongue pressed against the underside of him before curling around his shaft. His grip on your hair tightened and you picked up the pace, all but choking yourself on his cock, not able to help yourself, until he pulled you back off him sharply, abruptly. 

“Really don’t want things to be over that fast,” he panted, tilting his head back toward the ceiling for a moment. “Fucking hell you’re good at that…” 

You smirked a little and he pushed you back down onto the bed before lining his cock up with your entrance. He paused and you moaned, rocking your hips against him, your whole body feeling like a spring that was coiled a bit too tight. His hands splayed wide over your thighs for a moment before sliding over your stomach, your breasts, back down again. 

“Still want this?” He asked, voice needy. 

“Want you,” you panted, nodding. “Need you, need you inside me…” 

“Good,” he said, his large hands spread on your thighs, holding you open for him, watching where he was entering you as his cock split you open. He moaned, panting for breath. “Fuck, gonna be addicted to you, just fuckin’ know it…” 

You pressed your hips up into him as he filled you totally, collapsing onto you as his hips met yours. He stilled in you, giving you a moment to adjust to the delicious stretch of him inside you. He was big enough that - if you hadn’t been so desperate for him, if he hadn’t already made you come once - you were sure that it would feel like he was breaking you in two. Like this, though, it was all pleasure with a hint of pain, just enough to make you feel so fucking full you thought you might burst with it. 

He started slowly but forcefully, dragging his cock back so only his head was inside you, his pace so slow that you felt his head on every ridge inside you. But he thrust himself back into you hard, like he couldn’t bear not feeling you again immediately, like being without you was almost painful. 

But he increased his pace, thrusting himself deep into you and pulling back before changing again, more rocking his hips down into you than fully thrusting into you. It meant he kept almost constant pressure on your clit, that the head of him was all but permanently against the spot inside that you immediately sought out whenever you used your vibrator. Your back arched into him and your pussy was so tight around him you were certain you couldn’t get any more wanting. 

“Fuck, need to feel you come while I’m inside you,” he managed, sliding his arms below you to press your bare chest against him. “Please, Beautiful, fuck, please come for me…” 

“Joel!” You cried out his name as you came around him and he fucked into you for another moment before you felt him throb inside as he spilled into the condom. 

He collapsed on top of you, panting for breath and you ran your hands over his broad back. After a minute, he kissed you gently and pulled himself from your wrung out body and lying beside you. 

“So,” he was still short of breath. “Got anythin’ around here I can come by and fix tomorrow?” 

You laughed a little, trying not to think of the fact that you’d just fucked your best friend’s dad. Trying not to think of the fact that there was no way this could be a one time thing. 

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” you said. “I’m sure I can think of a lot of things.” 

[mt-oe]

𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙩—bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I'm so so sorry for not being able to keep up with requests that well. My program is taking a lot of my time and beating the shit out of me (esp. u immunology and serology >:c).

Anyways, here's a sort of prequel for my headcanons because band au Mizu is so yummy.

Enjoy! Mwa mwa:*

warning: not proofread, she/her for mizu, will refer to her as a boy (bc she canonically appears like a man), implied afab reader

"But you're so good at playing the guitar, and you have the charisma too. You should definitely join our band. Even our manager is amazing. She—"

"For the last time, Ringo. I don't want to join your stupid band."

Mizu and Ringo were already getting ready to go home after finishing their term-end project for their elective, which just so happened to be music. She didn't really think it through when she enlisted and just picked whichever she thought was the easiest. Ringo, however, just picked the same elective as Mizu.

She carefully placed her electric guitar in its case, zipping it up and securing the locks before slinging it over her shoulder. "I have better things to do and joining a band is a waste of time," she added as she walked up to the door.

Ringo followed after her, a smile still on his face despite the rejection. "You never know. This might even be your calling," he chimed as they exited the room, making her groan out of annoyance. They headed into the parking lot where Mizu's bike was parked. "We have an audition in a week if you want," he said, waiting for his friend to put on her helmet.

Once Mizu was finished putting on her helmet, she hopped on and leaned forward, pushing her weight to retract the center stand. "Not interested," she groaned out, slightly muffled behind her helmet. Her foot kickstarted the bike on before she revved the engine up a bit.

"Well if you decide to change your mind, just send me a message." Ringo stepped back a bit to give Mizu some space to move. She grunted in response and drove forward, leaving her friend waving and shout goodbyes at her.

What's so great about joining a stupid band anyway?

It's probably just filled with pretentious kids pretending to be as good as their idols but can't even memorize which strings their hammer ons should be.

Another groan escaped her lips the more she thought about the offer. It was annoying. Yet, a somehow, a small part of her wanted to play even more. The desire ringing at the back of her head like an itch she couldn't scratch off.

What if she did join?

What if it was as much fun as Ringo always said it was?

A sigh escaped her lips at how bothered she was by her thoughts. Why was she even thinking about this? She can always play her instruments at home. A crowd wouldn't make a difference, she thought as the wind whizzed past.

Her thoughts continued to race as she drove home. This band thing was stupid. Maybe she shouldn't attend the audition after a—

"Hey goofy boy!" a voice called out.

'What? Me?' she thought, lifting her visor to look around for the source of the voice. Across the stoplight, she saw another woman waving at her enthusiastically. It was almost ridiculous to look at. She raised an eyebrow, looking at her sides and behind her to see if you were talking to someone else before pointing to herself inquisitively.

"Yes you! Across the stoplight! C'mere!" you yelled, signaling her to stop in front of the cafe you were standing in front of, not really caring if other people were looking at you with how silly you were being.

Her blue eyes narrowed at you, clearly suspicious of your intentions. And yet, the way you were smiling and calling her over made her feel...something. Once the light turned green, she drove over to you, pulling up at the lot in front of the cafe.

You walked over to her, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the side stands on. "What do you want?" she asked in a low voice that clearly indicated that she didn't trust you even one bit.

"That.." You pointed to the guitar case on her back, making her raise an eyebrow cautiously. What did you want with her baby huh? She was so ready to throw hands.

"What model? And how long have you been playing?" you asked, still pointing to her guitar. Mizu looked over her shoulder being sighing. This was a waste of time. "I'm not inclined to tell you that," she replied, getting ready to kick her side stands off.

You snorted at her cold reply before leaning closer until she was face-to-face with you no matter how much she pulled away. The proximity allowing her to take in your features better and you were quite...pretty?

No. Wait.

Let's focus on how much of nuisance you were being.

Before she could even kick off her side stands, you already blocked her foot with yours. "Join our band," you said in a serious tone, showing her a business card before placing it in her jacket, smile still on your face.

Mizu groaned and rolled her eyes. "No. Now get your foot off before I kick it off," she replied. Yet, you kept your foot in the way of her stands, making her eyebrows knit together. "You look really goofy riding that bike of yours with a huge ass guitar case on your back," you said, eyes glancing at her guitar case before staring into her eyes intently. "You have talent, don't you?"

The smile on your face despite how serious and forward you were being was unnerving. "So what? I'm not going to join your band," she said in a low voice. Indeed, she was quite stubborn, but nowhere near your level. This motorist was the diamond in the rough you were looking for. "Goofy boy, join me in the café. It's my treat."

There was no way she's going into that café just for you to give her your sales talk and convince her to join your stupid unknown band. Not in a million years

—was what she thought.

Yet here she was, helmet off and sitting in front of you with a cup of matcha latte, watching you take a bite out of the cake you bought for yourself. After taking a slow sip, she sighed and narrowed her eyes at you. "I thought we were here talk about your band," she scoffed.

You smiled at her yet again, fork still in between your lips. "You're not going to talk right away, right? So let's take our time." A small 'tch' escaped her lips as she leaned back against the chair.

"Fine. I'll talk," she replied, staring at you up and down. Now that she was able to sit down and relax the tiniest bit, she was finally taking her time to look at you. And you weren't an eyesore at all. In fact, you were really fucking cute.

She's still not joining your band though.

A small giggle escaped your lips as you placed the fork down, resting your elbows on the table and intertwining your fingers together. "What model?" you asked, eyes darting to the guitar case beside your table.

Mizu glanced at it as her hands wrapped around the handle of her cup. "A les paul," she replied before taking a sip. Your smile widened before you took a sip from your cup as well, setting it down when she set hers down. "How long have you been playing?"

"Long enough," she replied, glancing at you, rolling her eyes at how you stared at her with curiosity, as if coercing her to tell more. "Fine, fine...before I started high school. I think. Maybe even longer."

You hummed in satisfaction and took another bite out of your cake. "Any other instruments?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow back at you. "A bass. A mustang."

Silence washed over both of you as you continued to eat your cake, making her feel a bit nervous. A small clink was heard as you put your fork down after taking your final bite. "What's your name, goofy boy?"

"Mizu," she replied before taking her drink into her hands. She downed it in one go, placing the cup down and picking her guitar case up. "This is pointless. I'm leaving," she said in a low husky voice, getting ready to stand up.

It was clear to her that she shouldn't have given so much time to you. She wasn't even interested in joining. Maybe if you weren't so cute, she wouldn't have tried to hear you out.

Before she can even stand up, you beat her to it, pushing her back down on the chair gently. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as you leaned forward again.

"I'll make you a star."

Huh?

Her clear surprise and confusion made you giggle. What the hell were you talking about? You pulled away and placed your hands on your hips, giving her a confident smile.

"Talent recognizes talent, Mizu. It may not be now, but I'll make you a star," you beamed.

Mizu blinked before scoffing. "That's ridiculous," she sneered before standing up and putting her helmet on. "For the last time, I'm not fucking joining your stupid audition."

Was what she said.

But here she was, a week later, sitting down inside the studio hallway. Her eyes watched as the auditionees chatted amongst themselves. Those who were done with the audition complaining about how strict the judge was, who she learned was just one person.

Her nerves were sending jitters to the tips of fingers, her throat tightening up slightly in anticipation. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. Just as she opened her eyes, she jumped slightly at the sight of a familiar pair of feet in front of her.

"I knew you were going to change your mind," her friend's voice chimed.

Looking up, she made eye contact with Ringo who was beaming at her, drumsticks tied to his stubby hands. "But how did you know where our studio is?"

This was the band Ringo was talking about? Oh boy.

She grunted and handed him the business card you snuck into her jacket. "The address is written there," she said with a sigh. He let out a small "oh" before his eyes widened even more. "So you've met her before," he replied cheerfully, handing the business card back.

"Who?" she asked, a serious yet curious look on her face. He looked confused for a moment before he replied, "Our manager. The one who handed you that card?" She wanted to ask more questions, but then a voice suddenly called for the drummer. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta go. Bye!"

Upon Ringo leaving, Mizu sat back down and closed her eyes again, resting her elbows on her knees.

Some time later, all the auditionees had finished and yet, it seems that all of them had been rejected. "This is a waste of time. I should have left earlier," she muttered to herself.

Just as she was about to leave the studio, her name was called, leaving her with no choice. Slowly, she entered the room only to be greeted with—

"You came!" your voice beamed.

Her eyes scanned around the room to see you sitting down on a chair, holding some papers, as well as the other band members presumably. "And you're the manager apparently," she said plainly. A chuckle escaping your lips as you nodded. "You can get ready whenever you want to."

Once her guitar was plugged in and ready to go, she looked up at you again, waiting for any further instructions. Despite her mind telling her that there was nothing to be nervous about, her gut was squeezing and churning from anticipation.

Should she do her best? Or should she fuck this up?

Your eyes watched her carefully, observing how she handled her guitar. "Play any song you'd like," you said, leaning forward in your seat as you set the papers down on a chair beside you.

No. She didn't want to be in this stupid band. She's not going to do her best.

Why the fuck would she do that?

This wasn't even worth it.

Nononononononono—

She looked down on her guitar before beginning to strum the familiar intro of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Despite her bobbing her head slightly, it was clear through her body language that she wasn't even trying at all.

The smile on your face slowly disappeared until all that was left was an unreadably neutral expression. Once she was done, she looked at you with a bored expression. "Well?"

You sighed at her, giving her the same bored expression back, making her smirk a bit. "Guess I'm not in, am I?" She unplugged her guitar, getting ready to put it back in the case before your hands stopped her.

"Sit back down. We're not done," you said in a serious tone, facial expression neutral yet your eyes told her that you were daaaaaaaamn annoyed with how little of an effort she put in. The look in your eyes, they way you were gripping the neck of her guitar, did something to her. "I don't owe you a performance," she replied.

You glared at her lightly before snatching her guitar from her hands, causing her to glare at you. She tried to grab her guitar back but you kept evading her as you plugged it back in. Once it was plugged back on, you pushed towards her, making her stumble back a bit from how harsh you did it.

"Now sit down and play. Talent recognizes talent, Mizu," you growled at her. The scene causing everyone in the room to go quiet. It was clear to them that you were pissed. "If not, then sell that guitar. You're wasting it."

After all, the only thing you hated more than the equipment suddenly breaking was wasted potential. And Mizu was wasting a LOT of potential.

Your words struck a nerve in her causing her. With a loud screech, she pulled the chair towards her and sat down. "Fine. If it gets you to shut the fuck up."

She looked at you with one final glare as she leaned back, hands beginning to move against her guitar.

She began playing Hotel California, immediately skipping to the guitar rift at the end of the song.

By the normal person's ear, it wasn't anything special. There were more impressive sounding songs out there. But to you, you knew how difficult it was to get the tone of the song right with how slow it was compared to other rifts. If she made a mistake here, a wrong pluck, a wrong drag, a wrong vibrato, the mistake would be so painfully obvious.

And yet, here Mizu was, playing it perfectly with the same angry look on her face. She was damn mad at you for touching her guitar, for pushing her towards your stupid fucking band. And yet, she couldn't help but want to impress you.

Did she really not want to be in the band?

Why was she trying so fucking hard then?

Like her body was moving on its own.

Like her hands were itching to play more.

As she ended the song, she looked down at the ground. Suddenly, the sound of clapping caused her to perk up and look at you. The sight causing her breath to hitch a blush to dust over her cheeks. That was when she knew the answer to her question.

It was you and your proud little smile.

That cute fucking smile.

All the annoyance and anger you held at her melted off during her little performance. You knew you saw talent. The moment you saw that goofy looking motorist with the awkwardly large hard guitar case at the stoplight, talent already hit you like a damn truck.

Although she knew you were satisfied with her performance, she couldn't help but want to try more. She'll try. She'll damn try for the hottest fucking manager she has ever seen. Her earlier hesitations of whether she wanted to join the band or not disappearing.

Call it a gay agenda but she was going to secure this fucking spot. She'll be best fucking guitarist you have ever heard or seen.

Just as you were about to congratulate her, she raised a hand up to cut you off. "Wait—fuck—that was too easy. I... goddamnit. Wait, I'll try doing something harder," she said in a panicked slur.

Her hands immediately went back to her guitar, eyes narrowing in thought. If an impressive guitar rift was what she needed...

Suddenly, she began playing the guitar rift for Free Bird. Eyes glued to her guitar, palms sweating a bit as she hit every chord, every pluck, every fucking bend.

You couldn't place your finger on what it was, but somehow, it felt like she was playing more passionately. Like she was putting her all into this one song. Was it the way she was bobbing her head? Or the way she moved her guitar during every vibrato? Maybe the way her body moved with the music?

Once the song ended, she closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. You couldn't help but giggle at how flustered she looked, making her blush again.

"Am I in?" she asked, looking at you with hidden desperation in her eyes, making you giggle even more. Her eyebrows furrowed as you continued to laugh, not really answering her question. "Well?"

A gulp went down her throat as you stood up from your chair and picking up the papers you previously held. "Mizu," you giggled out, "You were already in from the moment you tried again."

...

oh

Well that was embarrassing.

You handed her the contract and a pen, humming as she read the content before signing. Looking at her signature, your smile widened. This flustered looking guitarist was exactly what you were looking for and you just hit jackpot.

"You won't regret this, Mizu. I swear." She glanced at you, scanning the big smile you had on your face before looking down at her guitar and unplugging it. "I better not."

Suddenly, you lunged forward at her. Her eyes widened when you suddenly took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Talent recognizes talent," you repeated, leaning closer to her, grip tightening with every word.

"I'll make you a star."

She'll be your star.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Drunk - Oct 1 - @rosekillermicrofic - 1,118 words - Warnings: biting

(a/n- this turned out a lot longer than I had planned, and it took me two extra days, sorry!!!)

Barty loved and hated his job in equal parts. As a bartender, he got all the free booze he could get away with taking, and he always had somewhere to go at night. But he also saw and heard way too much shit from the lovely crowd that frequented his favorite dive bar.

There was a big group coming in from some sports tournament that Barty couldn’t be bothered to care about. He did appreciate the extra tips, but if he had to hear one more anecdote about the “game-winning goal,” he was going to bash his head in with one of the whiskey tumblers.

There were a pair of blonds down at the end of the bar, away from all of the hustle and bustle. One man, one woman, and Barty thought they had to be twins or at the very least siblings, for they shared the same platinum-blond hair and sharp-as-glass features. They didn’t seem to be a part of the bigger crowd, as they kept to themselves at the back of the long room, occasionally ordering a simple cocktail from Barty.

He was a little obsessed with the man, he could admit. His cheekbones cut his tan face exquisitely, and his ice-blue eyes seemed to pin Barty into place every time he caught them with his own. But even with Barty’s most obvious come-ons, the man didn’t seem to give a twitch of interest or even amusement.

When a too-drunk patron had nearly climbed over the bar to get Barty’s attention, he needed a compelling distraction, or he might actually have to kill himself on the job. He caught sight of the blond man down at the end of the bar again, and pulled out a whiskey glass to begin making a drink.

A moment later, he smoothly plucked up the finished cocktail and sauntered on over to the pair of blonds. He slid the drink in front of the man, interrupting whatever conversation the two had been having before he came over.

“Oh,” the man said, blinking down at the drink. He looked back up at Barty. “I didn’t order this.”

“It’s on the house,” Barty winked.

The woman sitting next to him was smiling slightly, looking between them, but the man was still frowning down at his drink. “What is it?”

“It’s a whiskey smash,” Barty said. “Because you’re just smashing. And I think we should smash. Whichever pun you like more.”

The man’s expression fell flat, his eyes coming up to meet Barty’s with an unimpressed glare. But the woman burst out with a melodic laugh, reaching out to nudge her sour companion.

“That was brilliant!” She gasped. “Oh, I like you. I’m Pandora, and this is my brother, Evan.”

Barty grinned at her, dipping his head in a nod in her direction. “My name is Barty.”

The man, Evan, was still glaring at him. “Don’t you have a job you should be doing?”

“I’m doing it right now,” Barty said, leaning up against the bar casually. “I’m checking in on my two favorite patrons.”

Pandora beamed at him, but Evan’s glower remained. Barty wanted him, bad.

“I think you should go back to the customers who actually want your attention,” Evan deadpanned. Barty fought hard to hide his smile, but he couldn’t help the corners of his lips turning up.

“I’ll win you over by the end of the night, you’ll see.” Barty teased.

“Don’t bet on it,” Evan quipped, taking a sip of his whiskey smash and nodding his head in response to the taste.

“Ah, but I’ve always favored low odds,” Barty said, leaning in with a wide grin.

“These odds are nonexistent,” Evan responded, staring at him blankly. Barty had to get this guy to fucking respond to him, even if the response was anger.

“You’re really sending me mixed signals, what with all the flirting you’re doing,” Barty said. Pandora laughed at the two of them, a melodic tinkle behind their words.

“This isn’t flirting. This is barely toleration,” Evan snapped.

“Ooh, tell me again how much you can’t stand me, it’s getting me hot and bothered.” Barty swooned against the top of the bar, lifting a hand to his forehead to tie together his dramatics. Pandora was laughing again, but Evan’s face hadn’t changed.

“Are you looking for a big tip or something?” Evan asked. “Because I might not tip at all, after this.”

“I don’t want your money, Evan,” Barty purred, leaning as close as he could, so that they were mere inches apart. Evan’s eyes flicked down to his lips, and then quickly raced back up to meet his eyes again, as if it had never happened. But Barty had seen. “I want something else.”

Finally, finally, Barty caught a hint of arousal in the other man’s eyes and in the set of his jaw as he clenched his teeth. There was a long pause, Barty trying to ramp up the tension between them, before Evan wholly surprised him by taking initiative.

One moment Barty was leaning ever-closer, and the next, Evan had fisted his shirt in one strong hand, yanking him half over the bar and leaving his feet dangling over the other side. Evan had stood, leaving his bar stool empty, and now he was looming over Barty as he scrambled for purchase on the too-smooth surface of the bar.

Evan yanked him up by his shirt, and then unceremoniously ducked down to bite the side of his neck harshly. Barty gasped, his hands coming up to grip Evan’s arms as he held him in place. It felt as if he’d been dunked into fire, his heart was racing and his blood was boiling. His nails bit into Evan’s arms, but he didn’t dare stop, pressing his teeth in deeper and then flicking his tongue over the sore spot. Barty stifled a moan, trying not to thrust against the bar for friction.

After a prolonged stretch of Evan’s teeth and tongue abusing the side of Barty’s throat, he finally pulled away, dropping Barty immediately. Barty awkwardly slid back down so that his feet touched the floor again, straightening out the black button-down he was wearing. His neck, where Evan had left his mark, was throbbing in pleasure-pain.

Evan looked him over, eyes lingering on what was sure to be a very obvious hickey on the side of Barty’s throat. Barty swallowed roughly. He was maybe a little in-over-his-head, not that he cared one bit. Pandora was laughing, but Barty only had eyes for Evan.

“Meet me after your shift, Barty.” Evan gave him a slow, almost-sweet smile. His eyes had gone a little darker, his skin a touch flushed.

And Barty did.

[nastyburger]

Please say more about the awful Asian designs in Danny Phantom. I'm not Asian but I'd love to have a rundown on the elements that make them offensive so I can avoid and critique those elements in other works. And also you deserve to speak your mind about it

im gonna mostly talk about southeast asian designs since thats what i am and the most familiar with and also what i feel are the show's worst transgression with their casual depictions. tw for racist imagery im gonna link pictures.

there's not much to say about the designs aside from, you know, everything but things to note are the unnatural yellow tone for the skin and closed slanted eyes. veggie burger (fan name for the bg character in the middle) also suffers from the huge nose that sometimes shows up in racist depictions. the straight edge/cut hair as well is somewhat stereotypical. this one isn't as bad but in conjunction with everything else its not ideal. i will give the smallest molecule of credit that at the very least dp never gave any of these bg characters buck teeth.

some depictions are better than others, but theres still missteps happening in one aspect or another. kwan's eyes in a lot of shots/episodes can be too skinny and even too slanted, the girl in the middle is almost perfect but her skin is too yellow (she looks kinda okay on my computer screen but i remember when watching dp on my tv she looked real brightly yellow), and principle ishiyama (who was weirdly forgotten about pretty early on in the show and was replaced by lancer doing most of the school stuff despite not being principle?? which is a whole other issue with how dp treats its poc characters) the same usual notes about the slanted eyes but also the upturned nose is pretty reminiscent of racist japanese art during ww2. again it is not the worst way to draw a nose but combined with everything else in this show's depiction of asian characters its not great, they are on thin ice man.

not to mention, principle ishiyama is the only character here with brown eyes. this is a problem that extends to all poc characters in dp and to my knowledge i think ishiyama might be the only one with them tbh. this is, again, a whole other issue though.

i think the thing that bothers me most about these designs though is that dp is very clearly aware that these depictions are bad. the only difference between the first set of characters and the second is one singular thing: they have a clear speaking role.

suddenly when theyre not stock background characters, dp knows how to act when drawing them. i cannot for the life of me find the image of it, but the last jock guy in the first set gets a speaking role in reign storm (he's cosplaying phantom) and he is drawn with proper open eyes! (theyre also blue but whatever) it just makes me sad that this was a clear choice they made.

the show also went in a different direction in the final product, but early development stuff was really drawing from a lot of japanese/asian influences like danny was originally gonna have a motorcycle (pulling from ghost in the shell) and was even referenced in the show via the akira motorcycle reference (which i once again, for the life of me, cannot find. danny took johnny 13's motorcycle and did the classic akira slide i think it was in million dollar ghost?? idk whichever one where the giw are trying to blow up the ghost zone). danny's name was originally gonna be jackie, named after jackie chan, this i assume was given to jack fenton afterwards. and i think the show having a more martial arts direction with the action was also gonna be a thing? that one could be wrong dont quote me on that, there was an episode where danny and vlad have like a weird ninja fight though im pretty sure.

either way my point here is that they wanted to pull from all these influences and it was prominent enough during development that they sprinkle references to it throughout the show and yet their portrayal and treatment of asian characters in the show is so abysmal it just feels Bad™, you know? i cant really put it more eloquently than that, like its very take and no give with it.

it overall just puts a bad taste in my mouth, and its sad that it still affects people years later. like i mentioned in the tags of the post that started this discussion with that whole old trend of putting yourself into the bg of dp screenshots, i felt alienated by that. and its not the people who participated's fault obviously but most of the people i saw participating were white fans (going off of how they drew themselves) and it made me a bit mad that they were able to enjoy the style of the show in a more carefree manner than i ever could. i didnt want to ruin anyone's fun obviously, but a small part of me wanted to bring to light how i wasnt on equal ground with them in that situation.

[andiv3r]

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I'm Andiver :3

-> i am an intersex transmascfem boygirl with audhd and a lion + coyote therian as well as being aromantic and abrosexual + aceflux, so if that bothers you, you should probably leave now

my pronouns are (no preference)

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or she / her / hers if we're friends !

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No DNI, anyone can interact with me or my blog so long as you're doing so with respect and kindness. If you intentionally make me uncomfortable or act like an ass I'll probably block you, but other than that, I'm more likely to block tags than people.

anyone can add me just pls tell me who you are

MY DISCORD IS andiv_r <3

the ones i care about most have sideblogs!

FANDOMS I'M IN -

most important:

- warrior cats @andiv3r-warrior-cats

- doctor who @andiv3r-doctor-who

current biggest hyperfixation:

- gravity falls @andiv3r-gravity-falls

other interests:

- tma @andiv3r-the-magnus-archives

- good omens @andiv3r-good-omens

- dbda @andiv3r-dead-boy-detectives

- dungeon meshi (no sideblog)

- wings of fire (no sideblog)

- ted lasso (no sideblog)

- probably several i forgot about

note: i have a "don't like don't read/watch/look" attitude in regard to media, fanfic, fanart, etc. so long as no real people are being harmed, and my views on ship discourse can be summed up as "ship and let ship"

BLOGS I RUN -

dashboard simulator

- @these-posts-arent-real is a dashboard simulator blog where i make fake posts, mostly set in the warrior cats universe

animal adventure game

- @animal-adventure-game is a game where you start out in a forest and progress through text-posts

gravity paws au

- @gravity-paws-au is the blog where i store all information on the warrior cats / gravity falls alternate universe thing i'm working on

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#andiv3r rambles about [fandom] - my general posts tag + whatever fandom i'm talking about, block these tags to avoid seeing me talk about whichever fandom it is

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#cygnus post - any post about my gravity falls oc, cygnus

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#a sort of immortality - content about my werewolf & vampire ocs, lori and lucille

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#nsfw - usually just mentions genitals for comedic effect, sometimes will be suggestive posts or art

#suggestive - tag for artworks or fanfics i post with sexually suggestive themes

-> #avert your eyes‚ y'all - what i will be tagging my nsfw posts as, specifically for people who want to filter out my nsfw posts and not the general nsfw tag (copy and paste the whole thing into your filtered tags to get the "comma", i promise it will work)

#vent - posts where i'm in a bad mood, be careful

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let me know if i should tag other triggers on my posts

BLINKIES MADE WITH BLINKIES.CAFE

From here

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hello! Sorry if you have already done something like this but I would love the professors' (whichever ones you feel comfortable writing) reactions to mc struggling in class due to being so stressed/tired/overwhelmed from the chaos that is their fifth year. I would love some parental vibes

Thank you! :)

A/N: Hogwarts professors deserve all the love 💕

HL PROFESSORS REACT TO MC STRUGGLING IN CLASS

ELEAZAR FIG: He gets a pit in his stomach from guilt. MC's circumstances aren't entirely in his control, but he feels responsible for them. The first thing he does is get them to take a break. Full stop on everything. Take a few days to decompress and refocus. Afterwards, he'll be right next to them to help them catch up on their studies. They'll pass their O.W.Ls with flying colors if he has anything to say about it.

MATILDA WEASLEY: This doesn't entirely surprise her given the rumored extracurricular activities MC has been up to. She has a heart-to-heart with them in her office. She wants the full story. No more deflection or bullshit. Tell her the truth. She takes the whole ancient magic thing pretty well, even if she doesn't fully understand. With their powers being so heavily tied to the goblin threat, suppose certain school assignments will have to be postponed. She can make arrangements.

CHIYO KOGAWA: She sees the heavy bags under MC's eyes when they come to tell her they completed another one of her assignments. They could barely focus on the wand movements necessary for the new spell. She has them sit and she pours a cup of tea. "Imported from my hometown in Japan. Just got it today. Have some. Might help you feel better; along with some decent sleep."

AESOP SHARP: He pulls them aside after class. "If you keep falling asleep standing up, you're going to wake up face first in your brew." His tone wasn't accusatory, but it made MC cry anyway. He's taken aback for a moment but he's seen this behavior before. They're exhausted. Likely pushing themselves too hard and not getting enough sleep. He holds out a handkerchief to them and then a small sleeping draught. "I have a new assignment for you. Go to your dorm, get comfortable and take this. Don't come back until you've caught up on sleep."

ABRAHAM RONEN: He sees MC fall asleep in his class again. No matter how much Natty prods them, they can't seem to stay awake. He doesn't allow Natty to bother them further, even when class ends. He lets them sleep until they wake up on their own and he has a tall cold glass of pumpkin juice poured for them. He sits next to them, pouring a glass for himself. "Don't panic. You didn't miss anything important. But, I am worried for you. Why are you falling asleep in class?"

MIRABEL GARLICK: She asks MC to stay behind after a lesson and asks what's been going on, they don't seem themselves. "Your engagement in class has fallen really low. Why is that, my dear?" As MC starts pouring their heart out and tearing up, she pulls them into a warm hug. This makes MC cry more but she just gently shushes them and rubs their back. "Let it all out, dearie."

MUDIWA ONAI: She's a master at reading body language. She can tell just by looking at them that MC has been running themselves ragged. She puts a hand on their shoulder and looks them in the eye. "Even the sun must rest, MC. You are powerful, full of potential, but without rest, you are as well suited for life as a dehydrated toad." MC laughs a little and nods understandably. She pulls MC close and gives them a forehead kiss. "Take better care of yourself."

BAI HOWIN: If there was one class MC could slack off in, it was beasts. She found them asleep in the hay multiple times and she doesn't bother them. She does get curious after a while if her class is just nap time for them or if there's something else going on. If they come clean that they've been overworking themselves, She doesn't give them more assignments from her class other than the necessities.

DINAH HECAT: "Enemies are going to catch you on your back foot at this rate." She comments as MC sluggishly packs up after class. "Perhaps You should limit your extracurricular activities for a while. Studying for your O.W.Ls seems to have you busy enough." But then MC sits down hard on the bench and MC lets it all out. They tell her everything. She sits and listens calmly. "I see...let me talk to Professor Weasely on your behalf. Perhaps we can work something out."

CUTHBERT BINNS: His class is where most catch up on sleep anyway. He's not overly concerned, but if MC asks for more review material he is happy to provide.

SATYAVATI SHAH: "Wake. Up." Her sharp voice can snap anyone out of sleep. "That's the third time this week. You're falling behind. Do I need to start deducting house points to make you care about your studies?" MC doesn't even look at her, they just shake their head. She feels a pang of guilt for going hard on them, they seem to genuinely be struggling, but life's a struggle. They'll figure it out or fail.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: This doesn't seem like his problem.

[depressopax]

LCDP character valentines day headcanons

Fandom - La Casa de papel/Money Heist

Pairing: Nairobi - Berlin - Denver - Tokyo - Professor - Alicia Sierra - Bruce - Cameron - x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff Warning(s): No smuts, but suggestive themes. Reader is gender neutral. Words: 1.3K Summary: How do the LCDP characters celebrate valentines together with reader? English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 AO3 link soon

I made one of Breaking Bad characters, so ofc I gotta make one for my babygirls in LCDP 🫶

Enjoy and happy valentines day to y'all!!!

(single gang wya?)

Nairobi

Nairobi LOVES valentine’s day.

Cheesy stuff is her favorite thing - romance movies, dates etc…

So for Valentine's Day, she wants to have a big celebration with you.

She makes plans weeks ahead, booking a weekend for the two of you.

She likes taking you on roadtrips and also going on mini vacations to other towns

So that’s what she does on february 14. 

She doesn’t GAF if it’s in the middle of the week, you’re going lmao

Of course she’s also brought you gifts, probably some jewelry or a plushie. …Maybe both, actually.

Her face lights up when you hand her a gift too.

Will be all over you with kisses

She takes a lot of photos of and with you, and everything the two of you see and do. She wants to document it all and look back at it. 

The day is spent at the hotel, going to a spa, sightseeing or just a candlelit dinner, whichever you prefer.

She also books the fancy room, making sure the two of you have some privacy for the nights… ;)

Berlin

Cheesy, romantic mf man

Andrés would spend a ridiculous amount of money for valentines day 😭

No but fr, you’d have to stop him from spontaneously paying for a trip to another country.

He treats this damn “holiday” like it is a life or death situation

Which can be both charming, but a bit concerning.

Luckily, he listens to you and decides on going for a weekend away instead. …His treat, of course

He books the two of you into some romantic spa hotel, and takes you out for fancy dinners.

Of course… Gifts, too. 

He buys you those things you’ve half mentioned wanting earlier. He memorizes everything you say, basically. 

He does all of this, yet still gets flustered when you give him something back. “Mi amor… You… You didn’t have to.” Meanwhile he has a big grin on his face, feeling grateful for every single thing you do.

The weekend away is full of love, relaxation and… Passion 🤭

“King of valentines day”, what can I say?

Denver

I love Denver, but he is pretty forgetful. 

He remembered it was Valentine's Day the same morning.

But this doesn’t mean he doesn't make an effort. 

He loves you, and even if you don’t care that much about it being february 14, he wants to show his love to you.

He rushes to the store to buy you flowers and some other gift.

He takes you out on a date in the afternoon, making sure he looks extra nice for you. 

The date is something romantic, yet fun.

Either an amusement park, picnics somewhere beautiful, ice/roller skating… You name it. 

When exchanging gifts, he feels bad for almost forgetting, but you don’t seem bothered at all, just happy to be with him. 

He gets excited when you hand him over a gift, feeling damn lucky to have you in his life. 

He doesn’t care what you give him, just happy you had him in mind.

Although, if you were to be angry at him, he has more surprises waiting once home iykwim ;)

Tokyo

A bit like Denver, but at least she remembers the day before lmao

…Might be because you reminded her

She feels bad, tho, so she makes sure to buy you something and also flowers.

Tokyo doesn’t hate valentines day, but does find it annoying with all lovey-dovey couples. 

But she loves you, and defies her dislike for the day.

She warms up a bit at your reaction to the gifts, tho.

And loves what you get for her.

Doesn’t matter what it is, it will be her new comfort item, and a reminder of her love for you.

She takes you out for a romantic dinner, but then drags you out to the club.

She just wants to party the night away whilst keeping you close, showing everyone that you’re hers. 

The night probably ends with the two of you making out on the dance floor, and taking it somewhere more private…

Professor

This man… 

He’s not used to “celebrating” valentines day, so he is awkward about it.

Probably pleads Andrés for his help to pick out a gift to you and give him advice

…Although he ends up roasting his ideas/suggestions, since they’re too bold, perverted or cheesy. 

Still, he ends up taking some advice.

Homeboy just wants to give you a good day

And he does.

Sergio ends up going for the classic - flowers, suit and romantic dinner.

Also buys you some gift, just simply something he knows you like/need. 

Although he’s a bit nervous/awkward at first, being around you makes him less tense.

He totally stops functioning when you smile and give him what you bought for him

Legit a blushing mess lmao

It ends up being a good valentines day, and you make sure to thank him in more than one way 🤭

Alicia Sierra

Alicia has a busy job, but she tries taking a day off, or at least the afternoon - to spend it with you. 

She’s not that cheesy. 

She likes Valentine's Day, since it is a day of “celebration”, but she usually doesn’t bother with it. 

Until things got real with you.

She buys some simple (but probably expensive) gift and some flowers and picks you up with her car.

She takes you out to watch some movie and then to her place, where she’s fixed a candlelit dinner.

That way, you have more privacy and focus on each other. 

Alicia likes spoiling you, even if she doesn’t admit so out loud.

That’s why she looks so smug as you open the wrapping paper to the piece of jewelry she brought.

The gift she got from you, she carefully places in her living room, where she can look at it all the time. 

After dinner, you spend the night at her place.

You won’t be sleeping much, tho… ;)

Bruce

Bruce sees Valentine's Day as a chance to impress you.

Sure, you're already his, but he still wants to seduce you. 

He’ll have you sleep over the night before, and wake you up with breakfast in bed, and also give you the gift he’s brought. 

Might not be the best food, but at least he made it with love lol

Literally spends the whole day pampering you, making you feel like a royal, which is his only goal.

And you do the same for him.

Which is pretty easy. A couple of kisses, and you’re all his.

Which is why he got so emotional when you gave him a gift too.

The day is spent with home spa, watching movies, making out, and either ordering food or takeaway. 

Basically just a day where the two of you relax together and do other fun stuff, happy to have found each other.

Cameron

Due to her last relationship, she’s not that fond of valentines day.

She doesn’t see the point in being extra affectionate once a year, when you can do so everyday.

Still, you buy her a valentine's gift and surprise her with flowers.

She’s stunned at first, then flustered, and then smiles, pulling you into a kiss. 

As a thank you, she takes you out on a date.

Together, the two of you like adrenaline and action.

So of course, you either go to an amusement park, or go sightseeing on her motorcycle, with you sitting behind her, hands wrapped around her hips as she speed drives through town.

The rest of the day, you explore random places together, taking pictures and making memories. 

Cameron can’t help but just stare at you, feeling so incredibly lucky to have you.

You go to some cozy restaurant to eat. 

Once going home, it’s getting dark. 

The two of you can’t keep hands to yourself during the trip home

So you end up doing that at the most random place

Afterwards, you are cuddled up and stargazing. 

Although you’re supposed to watch the stars, you and Cameron only has eyes for each other, tbh <3

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

Back with another request! If I send too many, just pick your favourites or ignore them :) also, with any requests from me you can do with !fem or !gn, whichever you prefer!

Maybe the reader works in like a library, or used book shop, and Eddie shows up all the time because he has a crush on her, but hasn't worked up the nerve to actually ask her out or talk to her more than like small talk yet?

Creep

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

[a/n] I'm so sorry this took so long, I'm working on your other request but I wanted to quickly get this one completed. I hope its okay!

[warnings?] religion contemplation? not proof read

Valen-Cries masterlist available here!

He’d spent majority of his free days watching from afar, working up the courage to approach her, coming close a couple times but quickly backing out as soon as her eyes locked with his, sending him a small wave and shy smile before turning back to the book she’d been reading intensely. 

Eddie swore he could’ve fainted then and there, with the spring sun shining down on her features, highlighting each curve and crevice that graced her skin, she was like an angel incarnate. While he was the furthest from religious he’d happily declare his faith with her as his witness. 

 Funnily enough he’d been sent to the library to work on his religious studies, not because he cared per sea but because if he was going to play into the idea of being the satan worshipper he might as well make it accurate. Of course his friends had questioned his sanity yet again, almost fearful this would do the opposite he’d intended it to do. However, he wasn’t going to back down from the challenge so easily.

In the short time spent among dusty damp books and you, he’d quickly learnt quite a lot. For one your favourite book was the princess bride, the crumpled pages and frayed spine giving it away. He’d found a sense of comfort in your actions, seeing that while you presented yourself as put together and calm there was clearly a need to escape the present and live through the words of another, with no expectation of the now.

He’d also learnt that you seemed to have your other favourites on rotation, after finishing one you’d switch back to another worn down copy of a classic, taking notice that not one of them appeared to be Lord of the Rings. Perhaps if he even worked up the nerve to talk to you, he’d ask.

There were times when he’d caught himself staring for too long to not be considered creepy, while he’d tried desperately not to be. After weeks of lowkey stalking he’d given up, realising that you didn’t seem to mind, in fact it had become a sort of game between the two of you. From quiet flirting between the shelves and leaving small gifts in the others unmarked territory, it seemed as though you also enjoyed this.

Valentines had quickly approached and while Eddie was never really bothered with mediocre holidays, the prospect of actually participating had him shaking with nerves. The following day he’d walked in with his own copy of Lord of the Rings, dog eared and probably in worse state than yours, quickly placing it in front of you and blurting out his question without a thought.

“Be my valentine?” Stunned at his own forwardness, clearing his throat once more before continuing “I mean I’ve seen you around and I thought that maybe you’d like to go out with me?” 

A wide smile spread across your face at his words, his chocolate button eyes staring down at you in desperation as the silence stretched. Seems you both had the same idea though, as you reached down to grab your copy of The Princess Bride, thrusting it into his fidgety hands. Your words had failed but keenly nodding like a lovesick fool at him as you swapped numbers and arranged a date.

Which would be one of many to come

[rosetyler42]

Here's a mixed bag of some crossovers I found while looking through my Sorting folder that I don't think I ever posted here!

1. Bendy meets Bendy! I did this gag after watching Everyone Knows It's Bendy and thinking it'd be funny if Fosters Bendy tried to frame Bendy for a crime yeah didn't commit (considering what else Bendy's been through.) Possible WIR-Verse or an AU where Bendy and friends ended up at Fosters after the studio's closure. As @lovelylivelyv said, Bendy's definitely gonna give the guy the scare of his life for this.

(Side note: While Foster's Bendy is a terrible lil shit as a character, Animation-wise I LOVE how he can go from very malicious to over-the-top innocence.)

2. Reuben and Jackie Khones! Two somewhat lazy, wise-cracking, sandwich-loving cartoon characters I could definitely see getting along. (Outside of their treatment of Wilt. Unlike Jackie, Reuben would see no reason to pick on a nice guy like Wilt, that's like kicking puppies.)

3. XD A hilarious WIR-Verse bit inspired by The Big Cheese. Somehow, Cheese wandered into Bendy and the Ink Machine without getting killed and most likely only got spooked by Sammy singing about Sheep. Don't ask how he made it in there, but Alice will definitely return him back to Fosters unharmed.

(Though...maybe tied up gagged to stop the annoying constant screams and running off. XD Alice might be a mom, nicer and far less murderous than Susan, but...she's a toon with some skewed thinking and would still find Cheese annoying. Even of she doesn't want to KILL him.)

4. Another in the "Don't ask how this happened" column: Bugs offering to help fellow hounded underdog Boris the Wolf deal with his "Angel Dame" problem.

5. This one came from the similarities and contrasts between Coraline and Destination: Imagination. Considering Coraline's experience was with a child-eating demon and The World was just a child looking for a friend (and the Beldam luring her in and spying on her with a doll) I thought it'd be interesting to have these two meet.

6. Some Coraline v Vanellope argument about Vanny leaving Sugar Rush for Slaughter Race. Both girls are in some ways important to their games and very adventurous, clever, and rebellious. But Coraline's learned what running off to live in a fantasy world and leaving family and responsibility behind can mean, what disasters that can bring, and doesn't want Vanny to make the same mistake. Whereas Vanny sees herself as just another racer, bullied her whole life and thought if as just a mistake, who doesn't really fit in there and feels meant for other things.

9. XD Here's an amusing AU: What if Coraline met Pinky and the Brain in the Other World somehow, thinking they were Other World mice since they could talk like she first mistakes the cat? Brain and Pinky most likely were on some take over the world scheme but I could see them trying to help this girl not get eaten by an obvious predator. Bonus, added by a question from @lovelylivelyv : Coraline actually wouldn't be thrown much by Brain's obvious spelling out of his identity and intentions. It's not the weirdest thing she's heard that day, and she might assume he either means THIS world or Her real world, whichever one she doesn't like more when he says it. Which...might bother him a bit, even as much as he appreciates the child's intellect.

7+8 I love the idea of Ki from "Mars Needs Moms" and @lovelylivelyv and I's version of Alice meeting. Two old-timey style characters somewhat unfamiliar with contemporary human culture but with a fascination with color and plants though growing up in a barren mono-color world. 7 shows Ki modified her color tags for the Cycle as a gift for Alice, while Alice shows an excited Ki a flower she grew herself.

10. Some messing around with Pinky and the Brain and my Drakgo shipchild OC, Lily Lipsky! Inspired by Two Mice and a Baby and the History song. I know Brain's not really good with kids normally, but with Lily being a evil genius child prodigy with intentions for World Domination who actually seems to LIKE him and UNDERSTAND his lessons...I feel they'd get along pretty well. Bonus: Pinky as usual, not paying attention and staring at a picture of Pharphignewton as a shout out to @lovelylivelyv 's ship.

@chytag @candyheartedchy (Ok, I know you're not into Reuben anymore and Jackie's an enemy, but I did draw Reuben and Bugs here.) @black-ak9 @hotelt-resurrection @serial-serializednovelreader @heartsong1994 @sammy-lawrence-my-beloved @gothicthundra @midnightcaptions @sweet-or-sarcastic @flowery-laser-blasts @inkiedraws @inkhyaena @inkspottie @inkwelldevil @thedopedemon @thedobermutt @thedemonsurfer @themangolover724 @blo0st4r

[descendantsramblings]

Sooooo how about Male! Reader x Morgie when they are already Dating but its Reader meeting Morgies mom (morgie is goddamn nervous cause reader isnt a villain)

This one is just a Drabble but I think this is a really cute concept. I just wasn't sure how to flesh it out farther as I'm not familiar with Morgana le Fay (Morgan le Fay? I'm unsure)

Doesn’t Matter

Morgie le Fay x Prince! Reader

Pronouns used: he/him/his

Summary: family day might just be the death of him, or his relationship. Whichever came first

Warnings: Morgana sucks man, pet names (you know me, you kno they're gonna be there), sorta a fluff situation, sorta a comfort situation. Idk words came out of my brain and into the google doc

Word count: 1.1K

    Morgie is pacing the room, his hands flying wildly as he rambles. Or perhaps he’s ranting, the prince perched on his bed doesn’t speak a lick of ancient Cornish like his boyfriend does. He couldn't tell you what was going on if he tried. Of course, his tone isn’t much help either, the sound of his voice pitching and falling in the same way it does when he’s scared or he’s fuming. So, (Y/n) is stuck trying to read his ever moving face as he waits to find out what could possibly be bothering him. The villain flings his arms up as he falls on the bed beside the greatest good he’s ever had, letting himself go all the way to his back. Eyes screwing closed with his lips in this aggravated pout that makes (Y/n) bite his lip. He looks so pretty when he’s upset, at least while it wasn’t pointed at him. “Sugar,” he smiles, reaching over to card his fingers through the boy’s ruffled hair. A soothing touch that his scalp craves after the way he was yanking on it in aggression. He lets out a hum, the sound coming out somewhere between the comfort from his boyfriend’s hand and his previous stress. “You know, if you want me to have any clue what’s got your feathers all ruffled, then maybe you should try again in English.” 

   His eyes fly open, turning to meet his boyfriend’s adoring gaze with a soft, apologetic look on his face. “I wasn’t speaking English?” It’s met with a little shake of his head, smiling at the boy, “Not at all. That was fully Cornish, you do that when you’re upset.” He slowly blinks a few times, shaking his head as he sits up, “And you just let me?” The prince on his side giggles, shaking his head in return, “I find it impossibly cute when you’re rambling in your mother tongue. I know you’ll explain it to me once you get it all out.”  Morgie smiles, he can’t help himself but to lean into his boyfriend’s slightly parted lips. A chaste kiss that lets the world around him melt away for the few seconds that they’re touching. “You know, Morgz, if I knew that would have earned me a kiss I would have told you ages ago.” And he’s laughing now, this airy playful thing that can only come from the lips of Morgie le Fay. It might just be the sweetest sound that (Y/n) has heard in his entire life. 

   “So,” he kisses Morgie’s forehead before moving away, “What has you all worked up, Buttercup?” Moment of relief over, back to business, le Fay. He takes a deep breath, letting it come back out on a sigh, “My mother.” (Y/n)’s face falls, becoming this twisted, heated, glaring thing that makes him seem more like a villain than a prince. Maybe if he could just look at Morgana like that, she wouldn’t notice how royal Morgie’s perfect boyfriend actually was. “Did she send you another awful letter? Baby why didn’t you come to me sooner? What did that witch of a woman want this time? Your voice? Your soul?” You’d think that (Y/n) and Morgana had met -and fought- a hundred times over by the aggression in the prince’s tone. That woman deserved none of his sympathy, she never dared to spare Morgie a drop of it. From the moment the sorcerer had opened up about his mother, (Y/n) had it in his mind that if they were ever near each other, he’d set the woman straight. Morgie was light, he was the air, he was the sun. Her son meant so much more than she ever gave him credit for; the prince would never let her forget it. As long as he was lucky enough to call Morgie his, he’d make sure someone made him feel like he deserved his spot as the sun. 

   “She’s not a witch, she’s a sorceress.” The prince laughs, reaching out to mindlessly toy with the end of Morgie’s scarf, “Oh, I know. Witch was an insult. I wanted it to be rude.” The tone is empty, this far away annoyed thing that would seem out of place if you didn't know the boy well. Soft pink lips curl up into a smile, looking over his lover with this sweet adoration that could give the sugar plum fairy a toothache. “But what did she do? Why does she have my boy all worked up?” He sighs, falling back to laying on his bed again “She’s coming to family day. She’s coming to family day and she knows about you but she doesn’t know you’re royal. And she will just, god she’s going to be absolutely awful to you.” As he rambles, his boyfriend lays down beside him; his head finding its way onto Morgie’s chest as an arm wraps around his middle. “It doesn’t matter.” 

   “What?” He tilts his head down to look at the boy in his arms, hazel eyes meeting the ones he’d come to love. “It doesn’t matter if she’s awful to me. That woman is my personal nemesis as far as I’m concerned.” “You don’t understand how absolutely awful my mother can be, or how powerful she is. I know I said I’d protect you from anything but my magic cannot rival hers.” (Y/n) shrugs to the best of his ability, looking up at Morgie as if he could care less, “Merlin’s can. He wouldn’t just let a student get hurt like that, especially not a prince. I’ll be there to protect you that day.” Morgie goes to argue, to tell him that he didn’t need protecting. But they would both be able to call his bluff. The prince on his chest had been the one to piece him back together after a few too many letters from his mother for any of that to be true. “You really don’t care what she thinks of you?” 

   Did he? Could the opinion of someone who so obviously was wrong about their own child ever be that important? There was no world where the prince thought someone who hated Morgie would ever have a good opinion. And yet, “Does it matter to you what she thinks of me?” That’s what mattered didn’t it? How Morgie felt about the whole thing? He was the boy who was caught in the crossfire. Of course, he knew without a doubt that he hated Morgana le Fay, every last part of him hated Morgana le Fay. But if Morgie needed her to like him, (Y/n) could be a man and tough it out. Whatever it took to make the sorcerer happy, that’s what his goal in this life was. “I don’t know.” A hand slides up Morgie’s torso to rest on his face, thumb rubbing over his cheek. “Does it change your opinion of me if she doesn’t like me?” He shakes his head, grabbing the hand that rests on his face so he can place a soft kiss on the other boy’s palm. “Well then, it doesn’t matter to me. Let her insult me as much as she pleases, let her curse me if she wants. As long as I don’t lose you, it doesn’t matter.”

[karizard-ao3]

Wanna see a little bit of what I've written so far of my Asushin college au (which I might not finish, we'll see)? No? Too bad!!

First meeting

As Shinji began trudging back to his bus stop, a mild headache embroidered itself across his brow. His eyelids felt tacky when he blinked, too. He yawned. With all the traveling he’d done that day, he'd only had two cups of coffee. He needed some caffeine.

He looked down at his map, then set off for the campus coffee shop, hoping it stayed open when the school was between semesters. He had walked past more closed eateries than not when he was checking out the student center.

To his relief, the cafe’s storefront windows glowed an inviting gold, and the sign on the front door was flipped to “Open”.

He went inside and looked around. He knew from his map that the coffee shop shared a building with the library. Now he saw that, instead of a back wall, the coffee shop opened out onto the main floor near the library’s circulation desk. That was cool. That would be nice when he had to study. But later on. At the moment, the library was closed and blocked off from the coffee shop by a row of stanchions.

A freckled brunette in an apron was using tongs to rearrange the bakery case items, removing the wrapped sandwiches that had reached their sell-by date and dropping them into a paper bag. She spotted Shinji and smiled. “One second!” she chirped, then leaned back and called into the back area. “Hey, Asuka! You’ve got a customer!!”

Shinji cocked his head. That name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place why. Had he met her before?

A moment later, a slender girl with long, vivid red hair and ocean blue eyes bounded to the cash register, grinning from ear to ear. Shinji had definitely not met her before. He would have remembered being introduced to a girl like her. A painful awareness of his own body overwhelmed him as he tried not to gawk at her.

Asuka's smile was all teeth as she said, “What can I get started for you?”

Shinji swallowed, darting a glance at the menu as if he didn't always get the same thing. “Can I have a large drip coffee, please?” he asked. “Or Americano if that's easier. Whichever.”

The girl's smile disappeared. “That's all?”

“Is that okay?” asked Shinji with a flutter of panic. Why was she glaring at him like that? He always got the most basic coffee possible so he wouldn't be a bother. Wasn't his simple order a good thing?

She scoffed. “We have all these blended drinks and all you want is a plain black coffee.” She threw up her hands. “Useless.”

“Asuka!” said her freckled co-worker.

“What?” said Asuka. “I need to practice making drinks! Anyone can pour a stupid black coffee.”

The freckled girl groaned.

“I can get something else,” Shinji hurried to say, taking another look at the menu. There were so many options. “Um.” He wrung his hands. “Um. What do you want to make?”

“It doesn't work like that! You have to pick!” said Asuka. “Just choose something you like!”

Shinji read the menu with desperate intensity. “Uh… Uh… I don’t know.”

“You don't know what you like?” Asuka exploded. “Everyone knows what they like!”

“Just– Just make me your favorite drink!” said Shinji.

“No,” said Asuka. “You have to pick one on your own.”

“I tried to pick black coffee,” Shinji grumbled. He had to be a foot taller than her, yet he felt as small and helpless as a newborn kitten.

“Asuka, you can’t bully the customers,” said the other girl.

“I’m not bullying him. I’m encouraging him,” Asuka sniffed.

Shinji’s eyes lit on the drink of the day. “I’ll have that one,” he said, pointing to the countertop chalkboard with a brief, relieved exhale.

Asuka leaned over the counter to look at the sign. Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. A long moment passed, then she threw her hand up in the air, jabbing her index finger towards the ceiling. “Of course I can make this!” she announced. “One chocolate peanut butter pretzel frappucino coming up!”

She spun around and grabbed a stack of index cards held together by a metal ring looped through a hole in the corner of each recipe. She flipped through it, threw it down, then grabbed a beat up blue binder and bent over it, rustling the pages as she searched for the instructions.

“Ah ha!” she said, springing back upright. She spun on Shinji and pointed at him. “I'll make your drink for you! What size do you want?”

“Large,” said Shinji.

“I'll ring him up while you make the drink,” said the other girl.

“Thanks, Hikari!” said Asuka, throwing open the refrigerator door and grabbing a pitcher of cold brew. The deep brown liquid sloshed over the rim and splashed onto the floor. Shinji winced.

Hikari tapped the drink order into the register while Shinji watched Asuka. She looked at the recipe in the binder again, running her finger down the page, then poured a tiny splash of coffee into the blender.

“Wait, stop!” said Shinji. “That’s not enough coffee!”

Asuka turned around to glare at him. “Who’s the barista here, bud?”

Shinji took a step back. His caffeine withdrawal headache was tightening across his forehead.

“Well… You are…” he conceded, annoyed with himself for being a doormat and letting her walk all over him.

“Right,” said Asuka. “Don’t forget it.”

Shinji gritted his teeth, chafing at her smug smirk. Who did she think she was? Why was he such a pushover? “How about this? I’m the customer and I want more coffee in my drink than that!” he snapped.

Hikari turned to look over her shoulder at Asuka and said in a pointed voice, “We can add shots.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Asuka said, pouring more cold brew into the blender and slamming the pitcher down on the counter. Coffee splattered the sleeve of her white blouse. She shrieked, then spun on Shinji again. “Look what you did!”

“Me?” he screeched back. “How is it my fault you’re careless?”

“I think this drink is on us,” said Hikari, zeroing out Shinji’s total and offering him a weak smile. “If you want to wait outside, I’ll bring it out to you.”

“Yeah, okay,” huffed Shinji.

[pomrania]

I want to talk about some books I've read recently, "Penric's Travels" and "Penric's Labor" by Lois McMaster Bujold.

First, that author is always a treat. When I saw those books by her at the library, ones I hadn't read before, I didn't even bother to check the back cover for their description; I knew I'd enjoy them, simply based on the author. And I was correct. (Also it turns out that the back cover didn't really give any useful information about the stories therein, so it wouldn't have mattered.)

I don't know how to best describe what I like about how she writes, but I'll try. Her stuff is very character-driven, with… it's not right to say "low stakes", because the stakes are very high indeed when you care about the characters things might happen to, but it doesn't have the super-high stakes you normally see in fantasy or science fiction. The characters and the relationships feel mature; the three main couples I can most remember offhand, from three different series set in three different 'verses, one half of the couple had been a widow/er, and the other half had had previous relationships of their own. (The Vorkosigan saga does admittedly start with a "young male protagonist", but it follows him as he matures.) And she's very adept at worldbuilding, which is honestly my favourite thing in SFF. If this sounds like the kind of thing you want to read, I recommend checking out her work.

Now, the specific books I mentioned at the start. They're more properly collections of three novellas each, written so they could be read in any order; which is good, because my library didn't have on the shelf the book which collected the earlier ones. Each novella is like 100-200 pages long, which might be a benefit over a novel-length story because it provides an obvious stopping point with a resolution for what's happened. Those books also include a 'reading order' at the end, for pretty much everything the author has ever written; I of course hadn't followed that, having gone by the time-honoured method of "whichever book I could get my paws on first", but if that's not how you do things, that guide might be of interest to you.

Finally, the reason I wanted to talk about these books (stories, more properly) specifically, and it's that the magic system is almost everything I've ever wanted in fiction; and it's so perfectly worked in with the religion/theology of that world, which itself is done way better than I normally see in fantasy. (Which, I suppose I hadn't mentioned it earlier; these stories are in the fantasy genre.) There is a REASON why somebody can't kill using magic; or, to be more accurate, they can do it, once. There's magical healing which isn't just "it's magic", but requires knowing what you're doing with each structure, and sometimes things just can't be healed. And there's the converse as well, using that same "healing magic" offensively; but with greater creativity than "burst someone's heart", since it must not be used to kill; the titular character's main method of disabling an assailant is "temporarily shut down the relevant nerves, very carefully". There's a cost for magic, in both "disorder" and "friction". It's just really good.

I won't try to give a comprehensive list of content warnings. However, I will say that if you're sensitive to "healthcare worker's burnout", you should avoid the novella "The Physicians of Vilnoc" entirely, as that's a major element in that story. (Also in the main character's backstory, but I don't know if there's a story which goes into depth with that.)

[deatheatet]

Okay so hear me out. This randomly popped into my head and won't leave so I just HAVE to write it before I DO forget it

Mo'at was bothered. Very bothered. None of the clan knew why,Kiri didn't know and that was unusual. Kiri has a knack for knowing things that she shouldn't, wasn't told or just before it happened. Yet not even this little blessing from Eywa knew why her grandmother seemed so upset and on edge recently. Many assumed she was simply mourning Eytukan,her mate and precious Ole'ektan. the anniversary of his death was very soon,it as always hurt her severely to remember the pain of that day. She lost her home but worse her mate...felt his pain....felt his breathing slow....felt his heart stop. She had broken down halfway away from Hometree's remains with a broken and broken hearted scream that day. Mo'at knew what they were assuming her strangeness was,yet as much as it was painful time,that was not it. The problem is that Spider,the young human child left behind,had yet to come visit the clan or Kiri in almost a week now. It was a concerning thing for her as the boy was rarely away from the clan or Kiri,the others came but the boy was not ever with them. The first two days wasn't bad, perhaps he had no mask to use,but as the days turned to a week she was concerned about the young human child. She knew she likely should not have felt as protective of the boy as if he were one of her grandchildren but she could not help it. So one day she eventually decided "To Hell With It"(She learned this from Jake) and went to Hells Gate herself to check on Spider.

When she got there she ducked down pulling a mask over her mouth and started looking for Norm,or Max, whichever was there and knew where the boy was.

"Oh. Spider's not been allowed to leave cause he got sick a bit ago"Mary,a woman Mo'at thought did not deserve the human boy as her son...the woman was...a worthless mother to him, Mo'at considered this the highest possible insult which from her it truly was and she had a good reason for this thought train. Mo'at frowned and sighed "What is he sick with?" Mary shrugged and responded "We don't know actually. Probably a Na'vi disease of some sort. not the flu but something else"Mo'at blinked slowly before it officially registered. Mary jumped back shocked and a little scared when Mo'at hissed at her.

"And you did not think to ask me!" Mo'at was a normally calm and reasonable Na'vi but this put out a mother's rage, because the idiots didn't think to as TSAHIK what type of Na'vi sickness the small human might have.

"We didn't want to bother you about him but he's in the room 231 down the hall in the med bay. It's beside the area where avatars first wake up."Mary took multiple fearful steps back and Mo'at hissed at her once more before find the room spider was in. the room was small but thankfully tall enough Mo'at could crouch like she would at the clan dinner and keep her head straight up. The worst rage,only the kind that could belong to a mother,hit her with the full force ond power of Eywa. The tiny human boy who was 6-7 at least was laying on the bed with bruises from needles all over his arms,and IV in one arm where there was already a black bruise in the crease of his elbow,he was pale and very very sick (The boy had tear streaks and red eyes,he looked at her and a sad weak smile came on his face.

"Hi Tsahik" he said in a broken,dry,and pain filled version of his usual happy go lucky voice.

"Hi little one. "She responded moving beside the bed and sat with her legs bent out to the side. She smiled gently and soothing.

"Why did you come to see me?" The poor little one asked her

"I was concerned as to why my granddaughter's favorite little human had not come to see us in a while"

"Sorry I worried you, Tsahik. when you leave in a minute tell Kiri I'm sorry to"Spider said

Mo'at watched him for a moment and took his small hand in her much larger one.

"I am not leaving little one,not until you are better and healed"

Spider watched her with a look of pure happiness in his eyes and started crying as best he could

Mo'at leaned up and hugged him softly letting him bury his small face in her neck while she cradled him gently,she felt his weak little hand clinging to her shawl.

After a while like that spider fell asleep and Mo'at sat there holding his hand. She knew most of the clan was wondering where their Tsahik was and that it wouldn't be long until her daughter or Son in law came to look for her. She didn't care though. This poor child was being put through absolute hell and pain because he was sick and his own species was stupid. Mary came in with another needle and got close to spider before Mo'at snarled at her and smacked the needle out of her hand and knocked Mary half way across the room in the process

"OUT. Or I will hurt you" Mo'at snarled through her bared fangs

Mary immediately left and told the others, they all tried but received the same thing except Nash tried and said something, whatever it was, Mo'at actually threw him across the room so hard he got a concussion. Norm decided no more needles now that he and Max knew about this. Norm poked his head in and saw Mo'at Leaning on the edge of the bed near Spider's head while he weakly watched a movie,The Looney Tunes,and gently stroking his soft blonde curls.

"Hey big guy,How's everything going?"Norm asked Gently but kept on the other side of the room. Mo'at looked up ready to snarl but stopped realizing it was Norm.

After Spider talked to Norm for a while and fell asleep,Norm started talking to Mo'at. Norm said he'd bring her healing equipment to her so she could take care of Spider and watch over him if she had to leave. It went like that for a few days,but Spider was a million times better with Mo'at taking care of him than the scientists,he was moving more, laughing,his voice was back to normal. Anyway Jake decided to go look for her since the clan hadn't seen her in a few days,when he was told he went to the room and found a surprising scene.

Mo'at was sitting with her legs to the side and bent slightly laying her head on her right arm which was bent, asleep,and her left hand laying face up with Spider's smaller one holding her three fingers. He was asleep and so was she but Jake heard about Mo'at's threats and aggression to sthe scientists that weren't Norm and Max so he left them be, wondering what that was about.