#(and no one knows how important it was to me because I hung all my hopes on something that didn’t pan out )

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 13: ~

Operation Spy Part 2:

There's not much to say here. Other than that, I never expected to do this many chapters and still have so many people reading every time I post. I'm truly grateful for all of you, and I hope you all stick around for the next 10 chapters I have planned.

Bernard Cunningham was exactly how you'd picture a stereotypical chairman. A tall, large man in his 40s, with brown hair and matching moustache, that would make Gibbo blush and wearing a 3 piece green suit. Oh, and smoked expensive cigars. Can't forget that.

Caz sat opposite the way overpriced mahogany desk and caught quick glances at the possible fake awards, all neatly hung in the office that was bigger than his living room. Of course, the office was several stories high. As Bernard helped himself to a cigar, Caz quickly caught a glimpse of the crane lifting the infected containers off the ship and onto the docks. His leg began to bounce. Still couldn't feel their presence from this height. Everyone else who wasn't infected sat outside in a large waiting lobby. He was last to be questioned. At least he was back in his own clothes. His work clothes had a stink that would never come off.

Something else was odd. No police. Nothing. Billy couldn't have dropped the charges. Did they only send a letter off to Beria? They didn't have to go through the higher ups? Technically, it was Rennick's. He owned the place. If it went straight to Beria, then he had no time to call the police and let them know. He had his own phone to reach the mainland, and Administration also had theirs for whenever the crew needed some time with family. And, ironically enough, besides Gregor and Davros, all of Administration were missing. Still, Caz had to keep his guard up. This was his last chance to slip past them. They probably had no idea the rig was evacuated, and why would they? This wasn't their problem.

'Right, Mr. McLeary.' Bernard's booming voice brought Caz out of his endless thoughts. 'Tell me what happened to my rig?' Oh, it was a good thing Rennick wasn't here. Like Caz with Roper, some of his attitude must have rubbed off on him because he had to bite back from correcting Bernard.

'I dunno,' he answered. 'It all just fucking-'

'Please no swearing in my office.'

'It all just fell apart.'

'Just like that?'

'I guess,' Caz shrugged. 'Construction isn't my forte.'

'But you saw what happened?'

'Yes. The f-' He paused and composed himself. 'Pieces just fell into the North Sea.'

'Alright.' Bernard began to jot down notes. If Caz didn't feel like this was an interrogation, then it certainly felt one now. Another quick glance to docks. 'And how did you follow protocol?' It was now Caz realised this was going to be a long day.

'I listened to Rennick and went to find anyone who needed assistance.'

'Oh, and not fix any electrics?'

'Things were important.'

'Such as?'

Was this guy serious?

'The wellbeing of my coworkers.' Caz couldn't help himself. He reverted back to his youth when he would sarcastically answer back to the headmaster, explaining why the student he beat up deserved it. 'The place was already falling apart, and thankfully, the backup generators hadn't switched on. The leccy was fine. Engineering had that covered.'

'And what of Rennick? The man wasn't listed as a survivor. Do you know what happened?'

Caz shrugged. 'My guess, he fell from the Beria when it began to shake.'

'And the others?' Bastard didn't even know their names.

'I tried to get Gregor.' The memory came back. Caz's composure began to slip, and his breathing began to labour. There was a sadness in his eyes as he looked to the floor. His fingers began to tap against each other. 'But I couldn't reach him.'

Bernard continued to write down the answers. 'That makes the payouts easier...'

And just like that, something snapped in Caz. His face dropped, and his skin turned pale. He slowly looked back up, trying to make eye contact with the chairman.

'Excuse me?'

Bernard ignored the question. Caz thought more. He began to think if he was in Rennick's position and then everything he had noticed on the bulletin boards. He knew Rennick was cutting corners, but someone gave him the budget to build Beria. Money never comes out of a buisness man's own pocket, especially for a rig. Caz looked back at Bernard. Rennick's voice ran through his head.

'I know you all hate me, but you should all share that hatred towards Cadal.'

'Please. If it was up to me, I would have stopped the drilling. But Cadal, that Bernard prick, would have rung all our necks.'

Now, Caz understood. Bernard Cunningham was a weasel-bodied, rat-faced, snake. His body tensed, trying his best not to jump the table and do what he did to Billy to this prick. Because of this cheap bastard, Gregor, Davros, and the others were dead. Rennick was right. It all linked back to him. He had to look away.

The last container was lowered onto the docks. Everyone from Beria held their breath. No one could stop it. They all knew this would happen, but what would happen next? A man opened the door to Muir's container, and a horrified scream echoed across all of Scotland. They fell onto their back, others came to look in curiosity, which was followed by a look of shock, as Muir stepped out along with Innes.

'Oh, shut up, mate,' Innes snapped. 'Can't you see I've got a headache?' Too much booze, food and crying from last night.

Using a tendril, Muir opened the other infected doors. Panic spread across the dock employees who saw the others appear from hiding. You couldn't blame them as they all collectively moved away like the infected were lepers or had some form of contagious disease. Obviously, this wasn't what they had in mind. But, what they couldn't wrap their head around was how normal they were acting. Trots, being the closest to looking human, stretched his arms above his head before putting his backpack over a shoulder. 'Finally,' he groaned. 'Thought I was gonna suffocate this there.' He then took in his surroundings and smiled. Land at last. He turned to Gibbo and pointed into the distance. 'Look, Gibbo, it's a tree.'

Gibbo had clearly slept the entire trip. He had a dazed look in his eyes, and his hair, because he was the lucky bastard who didn't lose it through infection, was all over the place. He tossed and turned in his sleep. He forced a tired smile. Trots' genuine happiness was hard to ignore. 'Did you think you'd never see one again?'

Bernard and everyone on from Beria came out onto the dock. Seeing how casual they were, the workers began to relax. Their mouths were still agape, bodies frozen in place and eyes staring at them. It must be a trait of his because Roy tapped one of the man's shoulders.

'Don't stare. They've been through enough.'

Bernard shoved his way to the front. His face went white, and sweat ran down his forehead. 'What...What...' He stepped closer with a look of panic in his eyes. The infected and Innes noticed. They'd never met Bernard before, but they all knew this was him, and they all gave him a dirty glare. 'What the fuck is this?!' Because, they all knew that he wasn't showing panic for their well-being. If it was possible, his pupils would he shaped as the pound sign. He was worried over what this meant for his company and reputation. 'Is this a joke?'

'It's December,' Finlay muttered yet was loud enough for Bernard to hear. How odd.

Bernard frantically looked in all directions, suddenly catching a glimpse of Innes still holding onto Muir. 'And why are you touching it?!' Well, that got everyone to glare. If it wasn't for Innes, Muir would have flung Bernard to London. Addair looked like a predator locked in on its prey. Large, rounded eyes that had no life behind them. Trots debated on punching him, and Gibbo's jaws clenched, and his teeth began to rub. But it was Caz who went to make the first move, rolling up his sleeve and stepping forward. Fuck it. He'll happily punch him into next week.

'Ah, Bernard Cunningham.' That voice. It ran a shiver up Bernard's spine and caused Caz to stop in his tracks. Somehow, Rennick had slipped past over thirty people and crept up to the chairman by scaling the building, who stood frozen in fear. 'Sorry to have given you a scare, and so sorry to get you out of your office.' That light, sing-song tone from that built anxiety for his crew, now made them smile wickedly. One of Rennick's 'arms' wrapped themselves around Bernard's shoulder, and he pulled himself uncomfortably close to his face. Bernard didn't have the courage to look at him. 'But, I think you and I need to have a wee chat.'

'You're supposed to be dead.'

'Now, wouldn't that have made your day?'

Bernard glanced to Caz, who simply shrugged. 'Guess we miscounted.'

[sunofpandora]

 V I R A G O                   

Chapter 5

Honey, you’re familiar.

Neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓵𝓼/𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼/𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹i𝓼

»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———WARNINGS:

Mentions of dick sucking and eating pussy???? IT'S A JOKE GUYS I SWEAR JUST READ AND YOU'LL UNDERSTAND GIVE ME A CHANCE!! 

Anxiety/mentions of hunger/mentions of not eating/ heights/ sex jokes/murder jokes?? Neteyam has like, one dirty thought?

Synopsis:  Y/n and Lo’ak spend some time together at the lake, and return to the omatikaya to join the sullys for the communal clan meal. Jake and y/n have a heart to heart.

Extra characters:

Kyuna: Omaticaya clan member

Popiti: Omaticaya child, Tuk’s best friend according to the visual dictionary.

Authors note:

HI GUYS! Did you miss me?? It’s okay to say no 😭. I’m in such a good mood guys and you won’t believe why 😏 and because I am in such a good mood, I have decided to give you guys some fluffy  sully family feels before the next chapter, where neteyam and Y/n will start their training! As just a reminder, please remember to go back and read chapter 3 (all 3 parts if you can) bc I have a feeling that not a ton of people have.

VERY IMPORTANT!!

This chapter is what I call a direct chapter. This means that the events in this chapter are happening on the same day as the ones in chapter 4 (found on my masterlist.). Ik it’s been awhile so pls feel free to refresh your memory

»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———»»———–➤»»———–➤»»———»»———–➤»

 “Damn that thing is huge.”

“…”

“So big and juicy looking…”

“……”

“I can’t wait to have that thing inside of me…mmm….my mouth is just watering thinking about it.”

“Lo’ak. Shut the fuck up.”

Lo’ak cackled, shoving you playfully.

“C’mon sis you know I play around.”

You huffed, trying to keep up being unamused with his sexual innuendos. 

“Lo’ak it’s not funny.”

“Yes it is.”

You thwacked him with your tail, hissing at him lowly, making him shut up immediately.

“You know for someone who complained about neteyam moaning into a fruit, you talk a lot of shit.”

Lo’ak shrugged.

“Is it so wrong to admire a fruit for its nice curves??”

It was inevitable that Lo’ak would bother you like this while you tried to focus. It wasn’t anything new. And while you were practicing the art of perpetual kindness, the occasional sex joke from Lo’ak deserved a whack of your tail, did it not?

You huffed, dropping your shoulders and letting your stance slip. You had been out in the woods with Lo’ak for the last 2 hours. Just exploring and enjoying conversation and gossip as usual, your bow slung around your torso and a few arrows, sharpened and freshly fletched at the ready in case of trouble.

It wasn’t trouble you were trying to shoot right now, luckily. Your current target was the fresh bunch of fruits that glistened under the canopy’s kisses of sunlight leaking through the foliage.

Lo’ak shifted on his feet.

“I could just shimmy up there and cut them down at the stem.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly recalling how about 5 minutes ago he tried that and fell on his ass…7 times.

“No, Lo’ak. I don’t want you injured. We’re doing it my way now.”

You raised your arm again, placing your arrow against the string of your bow, carefully constructing your once slipping stance to its previous position.

You took a breath, widening yourself at the proper angle, the sweet sound of the stretch your bowstring was a gentle satisfaction. You felt your nose twitch as the fletching of the arrows brush your nostrils.

You can feel Lo’ak’s eyes on you. Tracing the way your muscles tensed and stretched, enamored by your skill. It seemed as if everyone was. 

To be honest, it would have felt weird if it was anyone else other than Lo’ak.

You finally released, watching the arrow fly up and into the tree, the sound of the vine snapping as the arrow pierced straight through the stem that hung the fruits by the bunch to the branch resonated through the moistened air.

The fruits fell with a thud, you let out a satisfied sigh.

“There we go.”

You hummed, handing Lo’ak your bow as you squatted to swing the fruits over your shoulder.

Lo’ak was quiet for a moment. Just staring at your weapon as you stood to your feet.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You queried, stepping over the few stones to stand with him.

He shrugged, a smile allowing itself to sink upon his features.

“Nothing. I just feel like I should be more formal. I’m in the presence of our clan’s mighty archer.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him as you started to walk down the path you came.

“Shut up.”

“No im serious. I should’ve done my hair or fixed up my outfit-“

“You’re not funny.”

“My mom says I’m funny.”

He puts his hands on his hips, chin high as if his existence was the height of humanity’s greatest accomplishments.

“Yourn mom also tells Tuk that babies come from flowers. So she’s extremely reliable, it seems.”

Lo’ak gasped frantically, dramatically tumbling over his steps and clutching his chest as if he’s entering cardiac arrest.

“You fiend of a woman! How dare you speak to me with such a tounge!?”

“Oh suck my dick Lo’ak.”

“Eat me out y/n!”

Lo’ak leaned against a tree, posing seductively. Spreading his legs and falling his hands around to gesture to his loins.

You covered your mouth and nose, gagging for effect. 

“Put it away Lo’ak, phew, I KNOW it stinks up in there.”

“It smells delectable.”

“Mo’at had a heart attack scare last time she washed your loincloth. I wouldn’t count on it.”

Lo’ak flipped you off.

You both couldn’t restrain yourselves from the ugly cackles that erupt from your throat.

Your laughter weaving floridly around the forest before soaking into the late afternoons sunrays. The sky blushed it’s shadowed hues into breathtaking. It was at this time when the sun settled its intensity and ceased staining the world with its harsh tones, when the night crept behind a curtain of clouds.

Lo’ak and you continued to wonder around, Lo’ak carrying the fruit in the woven satchel bag that hung by it’s strap over his shoulder, your hands remained free, feeling the diminutive weight of the bow on your back, reaching out every now and then to swing on a branch or hurl yourself over a log.

“So, question for you.”

Lo’ak started, throwing himself over a rock to land on the patch of moss.

“Uh huh.”

“If we were to go swimming right now, would we be late going back to high camp?”

You think for a moment.

“Not if we make it quick. Try not to lose your loincloth in the rapids again.”

You snickered, recalling the incident during a fishing trip that your fathers took you on when you were both 12,

Jogging off before he could pull your tail or pinch your ankle or grab your leg or something obnoxious

“For fucks sake, will you ever let that go!?”

A boisterous laugh leaves you as you doubled over against a tree.

“No. It’s so funny.”

“Shut the fuck up. Listen-“

“I’m listening!”

“No you’re not, you're laughing!”

Another cackle leaves you. You wave a hand around, as if to rid the air of your own facetiousness.

“Okay— okay. I’m done. I’m done laughing. I promise.”

The wheezing endnotes of your breathless words betray you, and another fit of laughter leaves you. Lo’ak joins, and your chest starts to ache with the amount of breath that presses through your fits of giggles.

Lo’ak swings an arm around your shoulder throwing you both of balance, as if your steps weren’t already unparalleled and uncoordinated.

“No because- how did you lose your fucking loincloth—“

You rasped, your eyes squeezing shut.

Sounds that you’re almost 89% sure resemble some animal dying leave you and Lo’ak in sync.

And all the shit you’ve been through the last few days seem to just melt away when you’re laughing with your best friend so hard you can’t breathe.

After a few minutes, the chorus of chortles and raspy sentences cease. 

“Oh eywa. You’re a fucking idiot.”

You sigh, shoving him lightly.

“So are you. We’re a package deal.”

He pushes you before sprinting towards the river.

“Lo’ak! Fuck— wait up.”

Lo’ak’s smile was different from Neteyam’s. Neteyam’s was full of warmth and sunlight. Saturn’s rings sulking in a lightning storm of gold gilded gardens. 

Lo’ak’s smile was made of healing boyish hearts and oddly shaped persuasion. Flames and rings of smoke that radiated its warmth beneath incandescent skin. Rattling notes of wooden beads clinking together and a fragile temperament.

He throws himself in the water with a running start, an accented yelp echoed like a final chord striking before a late curtain call of a sunset evening’s songs.

Your laugh is loud, it shakes your body as his head emerges from the water.

“Come on. Don’t be a wuss.”

You took a breath, diving in the water.

You felt your body slicing through the surface, the air around you revisions itself into a 

You enjoyed swimming. And you were actually really good at it. There was something about being in the water that was so soothing, sirenic sensations that seemed to lift the world into light.

Your vision consolidated, surrendering to the soft undercurrents that brushed along your skin.

You motioned your arms and legs forward, propelling yourself through the water. You swiftly raised your head above the water, feeling the surface break as you retreated for air.

As the film of aqua haze vanishes back to the thickened victorious viridescent shades  painted the jungle. The light leaked through the canopy, reigning a rutilant warm glow, burned by the late afternoon sun.

Lo’ak’s silhouette blackens, shadowed by the thick line of fire that forms itself into the shape of sunlight.

“You’re crazy good at that.”

“At what?”

“Swimming.”

 Your mother and father were traders.  

Well, really, your father was.

Your father’s family were the representatives for your clan while traveling and trading for years. 

His family had an almost nomadic lifestyle and spent much of their time away from hometree and the clan. The olo’eyktan of the clan at the time, Lo’ak’s grandfather, followed the tradition of leaders many years before him of entrusting your father’s family to be the ones to travel by ikran away from home in seasonal patterns to trade resources and gather new information to report and bring back to the clan. Its a system that has been in place for many years.

As a child, you occasionally traveled with your parents. Visiting the planes where the tipani resided, and even the beaches under the cliffs where the tayrangi dwelled. When you were little, you loved to swim in the oceans with the other tayrangi children. 

You shrugged. Rubbing the back of your neck, your braids strung loosely about behind you, some  some swaying across the surface of the water and other sinking against your back. 

“My parents took me when they traveled east a lot. Remember? I guess I’ve built up some swimming skills.”

Lo’ak nodded, glancing down at the water before flicking his gaze back towards you.

“Do you think you’ll do it?”

“Do what?”

“Travel. Like your parents did.”

You think for a moment. Letting the silence settle. There was a time, where you and Lo’ak were dumb and 12 years old would stay up past dark quietly sneaking around the clan to steal some snacks and climb the yovo fruit trees that surrounded your village, the one you lived in before high camp. You would whisper about your plans for the future. How one day, you both would pack up your ikran saddles and fly off to a far away land, explore and travel the uncharted territories of Pandora together, and return when the journey ended on your own terms.

“Maybe.”

You hummed, thinking of how possibilities place themselves into puzzle pieces so quickly with time.

He nods, paddling around.

“Remember when we were kids? And we always talked about running away? Convincing my dad to bring back our old trading systems? Just going wherever we wanted? No nagging, no worries, just a bullshit-free life.”

You splashed your face with some water, the refreshing coolness washes down your neck.

“Should we really leave the clan like that?”

Lo’ak snorted.

“Please. I think they’ll be fine. The trade needed to be brought back anyways. There are resources we could use and it’s good to strengthen our connections with the other clans and blah blah blah.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

He swam to you, his expression statued a seriousness that was almost unfamiliar to his usual demeanor. 

“But I want to be real for a moment. I don’t want to be stuck here forever. You hear what Norm and max say. Pandora is huge. It’s too big for us to just stay in the forest for the rest of our lives.”

You frowned, a heaviness blanketed your heart that you couldn't quite name.

“Your family will miss you.”

Lo’ak laughed, but it was thin and forced, almost bitter.

“No. I don’t think they would.”

You shook your head, knowing that wasn’t true.

“Lo’ak. They love you.”

“My siblings and you may love me. But I don’t think the great Toruk Makto always likes me.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he does like you, and that hes just afraid of loosing you?? Because you are so much like him, so much of a mirror into his own youth, he knows the mistakes he made.”

Lo’ak was quiet for a moment. His voice was softer this time, this tell-tale of a familial tragedy that unconditionally refused to acknowledge one’s individuality. Where Jake and Lo’ak walked the thin line of being a mirror that refused reflection, a window that showed you what you prayed you would never see. History’s cruel rhyme schemes never surprised you. Not anymore. 

The hoarseness in his voice edged his tone, you could tell he was disassociating from the conversation.  

“That has nothing to do with me.”

“I think he’s still learning to make peace with that. You never really grow out of growing.”

Silence settled between you before it was shattered by the heavy sweep of water that crashes onto your face.

You cough up some of the water, slapping Lo’ak’s shoulder.

“What the fuck was that for?!”

“Stop being so fucking smart.”

He whined, dunking his head under water.

You rolled your eyes. Yanking him up by his forearm. 

“Lo’ak, I’m serious.”

He glared.

“And I’m not in the mood.”

“Your dad doesn’t hate you. He just-“

“I never said he hates me. I said he doesn’t like me. You don’t have to like someone in order to love them.”

“That’s not— Lo’ak I’m sure-“

“Y/n.”

That was your cue to close the curtain on that conversation. It pained you to know that Lo’ak thought like that. But you knew he would open up. Eventually.

Your mouth tapped shut. Your lips pressing into a thin line. 

He sighed, running his hands down his face roughly.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to snap. Not at you. It’s just-“

“It’s okay, Lo. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

And of course, what kind of awkwardness couldn’t be avoided with a change of topic??

You swam next to him, splashing him playfully.

“I’ll tell you what. Let’s wait a few weeks, we’ll pull together something to present to jake. We can meet with him and discuss if he’ll let us travel and revive the trade.”

In all, it wasn’t a bad idea. Which was rare for Lo’ak. The least you could do was give him the opportunity. 

He smiled at you. And before you could say anything, he whooped wildly like a child, his elbow thrown around your neck, forcing you to wade abruptly closer.

“Aye! Y/n! I knew you could come around. We’re going to be such badass travelers.”

You chuckled, patting his back.

“As if I would say no to you.”

“If you did I might have to spit in your food.”

He announces proudly, floating on his back.

You gag.

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m distinguished.”

He corrects, reaching out his arms and moving them slowly in a paddle motion.

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

Water was forgiving. Maybe that’s why you felt so familiar with it.

You haven’t felt forgiven for a lot of things in your life. Not now, anyways.

Underwater was where the sun’s warmth didn’t feel so harsh. You never had trouble discerning the safety and the solitude of land. 

You took a breath before submerging yourself under the 

The vault of the sky caves around its azure dome as light bent and broadened across the surface, stretching the sunset into a  henotic harmony. 

You dived deeper. Your arms pushed you forward, like wings guiding a bird through the skies.

The opaque world of glass rests under the world. The shadows of the depths are drunken words spreading orisons that seem like obstinate Orphics. 

mazarine whispers, and cyan and cerulean sing. 

Your thoughts seem to retreat to the uninhibited corners of your mind as you remain nantant.

Nothing could reach you here.

Well, maybe Lo’ak’s bitchy screeching.

“Y/n! Dude! Come on!”

He yanks you out of the water, his arm uncomfortably clamped around your waist like a child trying to retrieve a toy by fishing it out of water blindly.

You sputtered out the water that rushed to your face with the unexpected motion, so lost in your haze of serenity you barely heard Lo’ak the first time.

You coughed, squirming as he threw you into the plush riverbank grass.

“Shit! Sorry!”

He patted- well more like slapped your back roughly to try and aid your recovery.

“Sorry, sorry. You just weren’t coming up for air. I called your name like 10 times.”

You whacked him with your tail, and he hissed and held the spot on his arm.

“I don’t like being manhandled.”

You rasped, clearing the water from your throat.

“Dude who the fuck cares! My dad will handle us into a ditch if we’re not back in time!” 

Shit.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

“Keep going!”

You yelled over your shoulder, scrambling over branches and through the brush. 

You jumped over a rock, slinging yourself up a step with a vine, looping around to check on Lo’ak, who was halfway seen sprinting to catch up with you.

“Shit! My bow-!”

“Don’t worry! I grabbed it back at the lake!”

He calls back to you.

“Just keep going!”

You nodded, nearly tripping as you sprang forward once again.

You raised two fingers to your lips, pressing air as the shriek of a whistle left you.

The flap of wings you heard wasn’t that far away.

You stopped at when you reached a cleaning, turning around to see Lo’ak skid to a stop.

Kailo landed infront of you both, you Quickly mounted him, throwing your bow in the holster on the side of the saddle.

“Hey buddy.”

Lo’ak cooed in a rushed manner, quickly giving him a few pats before hopping on behind you. You reached back, pulling him up. He wrapped an arm around your neck, hiking up his legs.

“Comfy?”

You asked, turning around to meet Lo’ak’s eyes. He was out of breath, chest heaving.

“Uh huh— SHIT.”

You took off before he could answer, gently digging your heels into the sides of the saddle, pulling the strapped reign as Kailo took off.

Lo’ak tightened his hold using his elbow around your neck, his upright headlock was no unfamiliarity whenever you gave him rides.

But this is Lo’ak we’re talking about. Of course he got comfortable quickly.

There was a comfort to flying with Lo’ak.

It made you feel like a little kid again. Carrying eachother around on your backs, playing games and doing stupid things for stupid reasons because there was a time where being stupid was fun and okay.

And maybe, with Lo’ak, being stupid wasn’t so bad.

You banked left, diving through the center of an arched mountain over the forest. Lo’ak cheered and whooped, throwing his hands up, before cursing and holding onto you again after realizing he almost lost his balance.

His palm roughly cupped your shoulder as he sat himself up a bit higher, looking out onto the world below.

You climb a lift of air before directing Kailo to drop, a straight dive down the waterfall. Once you leveled out again, you and Lo’ak both leaned to the side, letting your fingertips skim the surface of the lake below.

You were never carelesss or reckless with Kailo. He was one of the fastest ikran your clan had ever seen, plus he was larger than most average ikran. That was no excuse to go flying so fast you fling yourself off the saddle.

But occasionally, you let yourself go.

“Please please please go faster!”

Lo’ak yelled, his volume competing wit. The wind.

“What? No. Any faster and we’ll crash into something.”

“Please!?”

Eh, why not? He’s had a rough couple of days. So have you.

You dived down again, grinning as you joined Lo’ak in his wild bouts of yelling.

But the fun didn’t last forever. Ahead, high camp came into view.

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

You could feel Lo’ak’s hand shaking slightly as you both touched down through the large entrance crevice of high camp.

“Dad’s gonna kill us.”

Lo’ak groaned, sliding off the saddle behind you, petting Kailo a few times.

“Just relax and let me do the talking.”

You shook your head, giving his shoulder a small squeeze.

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know everything.”

“Where the hell have you crotch stains been!?”

And you sure as hell knew who that voice belonged to.

Lo’ak jumped a bit, turning to see Jake barging himself towards you both.

“Fuck.”

Lo’ak muttered under his breath. So quietly he might not have said it all.

He hung his head, a few of his braids swinging over his shoulders, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, only glancing up once to look at you.

A few heads turned, some na’vi bearing witness to the spectacle of their olo’eyktan yelling at his kids.

And boy, he did not look happy.

Lo’ak puts both hands up, something you’ve noticed Neteyam do when Jake got heated like this. As if trying to calm a raging animal from attacking.

“Dad, I know this looks bad.”

“I would be concerned if you thought this didn’t ‘look bad’, Lo’ak.”

Jake bit back, his taller figure looming over his son.

Lo’ak bit his lip, his fingers twitch as his fingers dangle at his sides.

“You disobeyed me.”

The space between his brow wrinkles offensively.

“How did I disobey you?”

“I asked you, I asked ALL of your siblings this morning to let y/n rest and i found out you two go off on a joyride!?”

“Slow down Jake or you’ll have a heart attack.”

You sigh, stepping forward until your gaze is paralleled with his.

Lo’ak snorts, but he quickly masks his amusement as Jake sends him a glare, then he sends you one.

“You and I will talk later, I can only deal with one delinquent at a time.”

He waves you away.

“No, since you have enough to dish out for Lo’ak here, i’m sure there;s plenty for us to share.”

You felt like a teenager edged with attitude, especially when you loved and respected Jake so much. But seeing Lo’ak get wrung out all the time was exhausting. 

“Jake this wasn’t Lo’ak’s fault.”

Lo’aks shaking fingers stilled, the ghost your side, gesturing to you that you didn’t have t0 take this for him.

“I’m the one that suggested we go for a ride. We took kailo and went to the lake for a few hours. Cleared my head. Did some meditating just like you suggested.”

You nudge him playfully, but the man didn;t look amused. Conflicted was probably the right word.

“Either way, I said he was to stay away from you for at least a day.”

“Jake, he doesn;t run up my blood pressure like he does yours. He’s fine. No one was hurt. Nothing happened, and Lo’ak didn’t want me to go alone.”

You Lo’ak a look, commionucating silently with your eyes.

Dude. say something.

Lo’ak nods, fishing himself out of a daze.

“R-right. Yes. right, we just went to the lake, dad.”

Jake sighed, rubbing his fingers to his temple, attempting to soothe the brewing headache, virtue to the usual shenanigans Lo’ak and you could never seem to shake.’

“Guys, i really don’t think that-”

“Wait! The only reason we stayed longer is because Lo’ak wanted to grab these.”

You grabbed the satchel that rested on Lo’aks hip, opening the woven flap to display the fruits you gathered earlier.

You gently thwacked lo’ak with your tail, and he immeditaaly caught the jist.

“I know theyre mom’s favorites.”

Lo’ak batted his eyes while you gave jake a sickeningly sweet smile.

He groaned, turning away.

“Out of my sight. Both of you. Now.”

“Okay thanks! Love you dad!!”

You and Lo’ak sprinted across the camp, submerged in your own laughter. You scurried mo’at;s tent, shutting the flap when he turned to you.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Eywa wouldn't let us face battles if she knew we were going to do it alone.” 

₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊

Neteyam’s pov, the sullys tent:

My mother hates crowds. It’s not something I’ve inherited. 

You can tell by the way she shrinks behind my father or grandmother when we have clan gatherings. The way she resorts to fidgeting with her songchord or holding Tuk’s hand to distract herself from the ocean of eyes that are standing in front of her.

Tonight the clan eats communally. We do it every once in a while. My grandmother told me that the people did it every night before hometree was destroyed, but as time faded, so did our habits, I suppose.

Maybe thats why tonight, as my family prepares to leave for communal meal, the air is uneasy and tense.

Kiri and I had been home almost all day, watching Tuk while my grandmother rested and my mother attended to her duties around high camp.

It feels empty without my father, Lo’ak, and y/n.

My mothers voice pulls my attention.

“Neteyam, go wake your grandmother.”

She kneeled down in the corner, tending to Tuk, trying to pick the leaves out of her hair.

“Uh huh. Give me a second.”

I set the freshly washed bowls I just finished scrubbing down in the pile where we left all our dishes. 

I turned to see my grandmother, currently 18ft deep in her beyond-afternoon nap. 

I sighed, stretching my arms behind my back, locking my fingers together to soothe the tightness in my muscles as I walk my way over to her.

“Grandmother.”

I tap her shoulder, her snores blaring lowly.

I sigh. Waking up my grandmother was usually a two man job.

“Grandmother? Grandmother???”

She stirs, but doesn’t wake.

I poke her shoulder lightly with my fingers.

She gasps awake, flinging her arm at my face, I step back, flinching at the action.

She sits up, squinting at me before her gaze softens.

“Neteyam, I’m sorry. I thought you were your father.”

“So you were planning to smack my father?”

“That’s beyond the point. I had the most wonderful dream.”

She reminisced dreamily.

I shifted on my feet awkwardly.

“That’s wonderful, grandmother. But I woke you because-“

“Quiet boy. I’m speaking.”

Great. Just what I was aiming to avoid.

I straighten, a rough breath falling from my lips. Settling in for the haul of whatever was to come.

“Apologies, Tsahik. You were saying?”

“Well.”

She begins.

“It was many years ago…when your mother told me she was with child.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then once she started, eywa she just wouldn’t stop..one child after another..”

I catch my mother glaring out of the corner of my eye.

“Neteyam, I think your grandmother can get up on her own.”

She hisses.

Grandmother waves her off.

“Don’t listen to her, boy. Go fetch my cane.”

My mother throws her arms up to express exaggeration.

“You don’t need a cane, Sa’nok.”

I stand warily between the two of them.

“And you don’t need to be sneaking off with your husband every few nights.”

My grandmother shoots back.

Maybe there was a reason for my father’s constant headaches.

It’s kiri’s voice that grasps my attention. I turn to see her enter the Marui with a half-weaved basket in her hands.

“Neteyam, while the golden girls are fighting, you might wanna take the time to worry about yourself.”

I shake my head, protesting gently. Something keeping me tied to multitasking bites at the back of my mind.

“No, I got it.”

She gives me a look, setting the basket-in-progress down and crossing her arms.

“Neteyam, you have been chasing Tuk around all day, helping mother clean, and as much as I know you enjoy being serenaded by grandmothers snoring, you need a break.”

“Kiri, really I'm fine.”

“I wasn’t asking. Go.”

Arguing with Kiri was useless. There was no competing with full-bodied ambition when ignited. 

I surrender. Retreating behind the curtain of the divider between the two areas of my family’s home.

I busy myself with personal tasks. Sharpening my knife, rummaging through lo’ak’s hammock to retrieve the armbands I know for a fact he's stolen from me. Again.

About 1o minutes had passed. I had found 8 armbands when I heard the familiar voice of my father as he entered the tent.

I slip under the divider sheet to see him. He alternates looks between Lo’ak and Y/n as they shuffle inside.

“Ma’jake.”

My mother sighs in relief, as if my father is the shower of fresh rain after a drought.  She holds Tuk on her hip as she squirms and giggles.

“Where have you been? There is much that needs to be done.”

My father pauses as he takes in each dilemma. 

Kiri and Grandmother arguing in the corner.

My mother is holding an overly-hyper tuk.

Lo’ak and Y/n laughing for whatever reason.

And me. Peeking out from behind the sheet.

“I can see that.”

He affirms, reaching out to take tuk off my mother’s hands.

running his hand down her back in soothing circles, trying to get both of them to calm down.

My father knows my mother is full of love. He also knows when not enough of that love is kept for herself.

Lo’ak stares at our parents, his expression of mild disgust.

“Do you two want a moment alone?”

A laugh follows, my eyes ascertaining to its source.

Her. Oh it’s her. 

Oh. 

It’s her.

She stands behind Lo’ak, a lean azure frame. Droplets gleam and scintillate as they slide down her skin. Her bangles and bracelets shine under the fractured light. I try so hard not to stare. I try to focus on anything. Anything at all. Anything that won’t make me feel like I’m staring at a woman who’s wet and shiny like some kind of pervert. 

Fuck. That sounded like I was describing a river rock or something.

‘wEt aNd sHiNy.’ 19 years old, future Olo’eyktan of your clan  and you can’t even talk. I feel like the ground envelops me in quicksand, my lungs famine for air. Eywa, she was pretty.

‘Pretty’ feels like a disparagement. Makes me feel inarticulate for lacking a better word. Beautiful. Stunning. Hot? Is hot weird? She is hot. Is that weird? Am I weird?

If there is another word. I’ll find it

Her braids cascade down her back, a crown of curls and waves Unwinding at the where the braids end, the curls I sometimes imagine spilling through my fingers while I capture sweet sounds that fall from her lips.

Am I weird for this? 

My father speaks, yanking me out of my haze.

“Baby, I can always call off the clan gathering if you’re not feeling a crowd tonight.”

He adjusts Tuk on his hip, picking a leaf out of her hair.

My mother shakes her head.

“No. I’m alright. There is just much to be done before we leave…”

My dad nods graciously, placing Tuk back to her feet again.

“Say no more. We’ll get everyone outta here in one piece.”

“Were you planning on us leaving disembodied?”

Kiri asks, her tone welcoming sarcasm in its arms.

Lo’ak chimes in.

“Can I swap out my loincloth real quick? I hate having the wet weaving slapping against me every time I walk.”

“Then why would you get wet?”

Kiri asks, rather harshly.

“Why do you cut your hair like that knowing your forehead is too big?”

“It astounds me how every day you talk about my forehead. Did you know they almost had to cut mom open because your head was so abnormally enormous??”

Lo’ak looks at my mom with incredulous eyes. 

“Ma she’s lying. Right?”

My mom evades any squander of the moment as she turns to duck under the divider flap to where  my parents slept.

“Ma’Jake, I’m going to change my top before we leave.”

Lo’ak falls to his knees, a dramatic anguished groan leaves him.

“Oh shit. I’m a freak. I’m a freak with a huge head.”

“You’re not a freak. You just have your fathers genes. I’m sure Jake was unusually large as well.” y/n comforts him, gesturing to my father.

“The hell I wasn’t.” My dad pipes up, trying to wrestle Tuk into sitting still.

Kiri shrugs, leaning against the wooden pillar to the side of the sheet as she fidgets with one of Y/n’s braids, standing behind her.

“I think we should banish Lo’ak for the attempted murder of the Tsahik daughter.”

I snicker, nudging Kiri 

“Mother would have joined eywa doing what she loved. Screaming at father.”

She laughed, tossing her head back.

Lo’ak’s jaw drops, he tries to speak but only a string of syllables come out.

“That’s not fucking fair.”

My dad glares at all three of us.

“Watch your mouth boy. And what did I say about plotting murder during dinner.”

Y/n blinks, tilting her head.

“We aren’t eating dinner.”

“I don’t give a damn-!

Okay, you know what? New rule. No discussing murder. Period.”

Kiri clicks her tongue, the usual gleam flickering across her irises.

“Can we discuss manslaughter?”

The sentence teases its own tone.

She places her palms against one another in a paring position before pointing them outwards towards my father.

Y/n mimics her.

“If we can’t discuss it can we at least plan one? Me and Kiri have already worked out a date and time.”

“And we have a target.”

Kiri adds, nodding confidently.

“For the love of god, I will put all of you on time out. And your grandmother can join you.”

My father threatens. Glaring at all of us.

Grandmother speaks as she slowly arises from her sitting spot on the floor, Lo’ak assisting her by holding her arm.

“Good. That will give me and the children time to plot against you.”

She speaks matter-of-factly.

I laugh, watching Tuk’s big eyes travel between my father and the rest of us as she tries to keep up with the conversation.

We all turn to see my mother as her figure is guided back through the divider, a new top now covering her chest.

It had flowers on it, delicately placed in a pattern over her breasts. Vines braided over her shoulders to hold the garment in place.

My fathers eyes take the shape of stars as he sees her, the sun setting outside and him both share a flicker of breath as she moves toward us.

“Are we ready?”

She asks, placing some of her braids behind her shoulder.

My father whistles, a hand coming up to cover the grin that etched its way onto his face.

“Goddamn. You look..”

“Like a pretty flower!”

Tuk chirps, clapping excitedly as she runs to my mother, hugging her waist.

“I was gonna say gorgeous, but yeah. That works too.”

Gorgeous. That’s the word I was looking for.

She giggles as she strides her way over to him, He takes a step behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist, another hand tracing circles in her hip.

“Y/n made this one.”

She murmurs, speaking quietly for my father.

“Do you like it?”

“Kids’ got taste. It’s stunning. Do a spin for me.”

My dad nods approvingly, Y/n feigns cockiness, posing and swaying her hips.

“Of course I have taste. The best there is, no doubt.”

Out of all of the fabrics, all the leaves and flowers and materials on the planet, I think her smile always looks the most stunning.

“You know who else has taste?”

My father whispers, clearly not quiet enough, the endnotes a purr.

My mother gasps, it twirls into a chuckle.

“Ma’Jake, the children are watching.”

“Kids, look away!”

My dad demands, kissing my mothers cheek as she squirms in his arms.

“Oh I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Kiri gags, clearly not fawning over my parents' affections the way y/n or tuk is.

My grandmother wedges herself between my parents, poking my fathers chest.

“Enough of this. It is time to depart. Before you both go and make another child I will have to deal with it.”

That was my fathers cue as he sighs dramatically, scooping up a squirming Tuk and twirling her around like a princess.

“Alright family let’s get going. Roll tide.”

“Roll tide!”

Tuk mimics my fathers lingo as we exit the tent, single file. 

Tuk scurries infront of me. Hopping vigorously to squeeze her way in between my parents as they walk ahead of us. 

Lo’ak and Kiri take turns bickering with grandmother, keeping their paces ahead of me.

I saunter off behind them. The cool air and dwindling distant conversations plexure in the atmosphere. Families talking, children laughing, all coalesce into a chorus that ceases its journey where the darkening night sky ends.

I turn as I feel a tap on my shoulder,

Big, doe-like gold eyes invade my gaze. Those eyes are my vice. My biggest sorrow and my greatest gift.

The auric hues captivate me. The gleam so picturesque the shadows run for shelter. 

She’s still wet from the river. The shine from the droplets define her features, tracing every curve, clinging to every dip.

I feel ensnared in her equivalent of hypnosis. The expanse of her throat, the coves of her eyelids, every inch of her has me infatuated.

She doesn’t look like she belongs here. Her features lack those of a mortal being in regularity. A deity you’d sacrifice yourself for in the form of a disguise.

“Oh— you.”

Oh wow. That must make women swoon. ‘Oh. You.’ Might as well have said ‘ew. It’s you.’

Pull yourself together!

She recoils, its so slight you might not have noticed it at all.

She’s nervous. 

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check up on you.”

Her steps find competence as they match my own. Her fingers lock together as she strides with them behind her back.

I awkwardly shuffle to keep pace with her.

“Oh, no. Please don’t apologize.”

I wave my hands stupidly, as if she’s hard of hearing and needs to have everything signaled. 

I clear my throat, clearing the hoarseness. Letting a silence settle before I realize what she’s said.

“You..wanted to check on me?”

She nods, her eyes meeting mine for a 

moment. She’s only a few inches shorter than me. It always reminds me of how she teased me when we were kids, saying I’d never catch up to her height. 

“Yeah. Well, I mean, I just…Lo’ak told me you were acting a little…off? This morning?”

Oh. You mean where you consumed every single one of my waking thoughts? This morning where I woke up still imaging you hugging me? This morning? Where I woke up stunned, paralyzed, drunken in enamorment of how on eywa’s green ground you could possibly be real when you have beauty of such extravagance?

“I have no idea what you speak of.”

I shrug,  crossing my arms over my chest.

She’s skeptical.

“Oh. I see.”

“Yup. Nothing wrong.”

“So, you weren’t moaning into a a fruit this morning?”

A who-was-moaning-into-a what?

“What are you talking about?”

She laughs, shaking her head.

“I just heard from a friend, that you were…excited for breakfast.”

Oh, the joy of having siblings.

I groan.

“No, that was a misunderstanding.”

She nods, trying to regain seriousness.

“Of course..I figured it was.”

Her cheeks puff slightly, harboring laughter.

I would probably be annoyed if it was anyone but her. and if her laugh wasn’t my favorite sound.

“Okay, you know what? It was early, I was tired-“

“Oh please. I’ve known you since you could walk. You’ve always been a morning person.”

I scoff, trying to pretend she wasn’t right.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Neteyam, I’m going to be your teacher soon. You should confide in me,”

Her arm accidentally brushes mine as we walk.

“So I should know if there’s something between you and that fruit that might interfere with your focus.”

I sigh, shaking my head, my tail gently swishing behind me.

“Say it with me now. Okay? 1..2..3…you’ve been spending too much time with Lo’ak.”

She chortles, recoiling at the sound.

I doesn’t phase me.

Not one bit.

“It’s the other way around.”

She argues.

“I can’t disagree. Last week I caught him wearing one of your armbands..”

“The one your father gifted me after completing my rites of passage?”

“Amber stones, arrowed weaving?”

She snaps her fingers.

“That’s the one! The bastard. I’ve been searching for weeks.”

I chuckle, catching a glimpse of her profile at the side of my gaze.

“I don’t blame him, you know.”

My voice carried a sincereness that seemed out of place with the conversation.

She looks at me, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“For looking up to you.”

She scoffs.

“Neteyam-“

“No. I’m serious.”

And as much as I regret cutting her off, the way she said my name, so tired, as if it was worn.

“You are one of the strongest warriors this clan has ever seen. I know that for a fact. I hear the way my parents speak of you. The way the people look at you, the way the children braid their hair to look like you. Everyone loves and admires you. I know for a fact I lov-“

She slows for a millisecond. That’s all it took to correct myself. Her steps only broke its pace as consciousness calculated on the ledge of what i knew so well I almost said.

“I love admiring you. I hope you know that.”

She shifts slightly, her fingers fidgeting with one another instead of being held behind her. I can tell my words are an impudent invasion that scratch and claw at the walls she’s built.

“You don’t have to say things like that.”

All I can do is smile.

“I wasn’t born with jesters privilege, I’m only saying what I know. I’m not glorifying you.”

And suddenly, i forgot the concept of boundaries.

I blame the aureate iridescence in the paradox of her irises. 

“You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”

She looks at me, confusion capturing her.

“What are you talking about?”

I shrug.

“You’ve saved lives. Protected our clan. Defended us against the sky people. What more can you ask of yourself?”

She stops walking this time. Her eyes staring straight ahead of us. 

Her head turns slowly to stare at me. It’s not a look of offense, or fear.

My hand reaches for her back, my palm placed against the small of it.

“It’s just something to think about.”

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎

Y/n’s pov 

You stare at him as if he's shown you colors for the first time. Epiphanies impulse under your skin, their unwelcomed and you’re unprepared.

As you approach the large area where other clan members have already sat down with their families, sharing food and laughter, you find yourself wandering astray.

“Give yourself more credit.”

Credit for what? What did you do to deserve praise?

Protected others? It wasn’t a task. It was second nature. If you didn't, what else would they ate from you?

What were you if not the sword and shield? What would you become the day the war ended?

There was no credit to be given. There was nothing to be given because there was nothing left. Because you refuse to repeat your mistakes. To suffer at another’s hand, to suffocate under the wreckage of what was built only to be torn down. Cankered, tattered, stained fingers clutching at the flesh that stretched across your bones, bruises worn like badges of honor. 

You were afraid. So afraid of being sheltered and delicate. Being blinded and impetuous. 

“Y/n. Come sit with me.”

You feel an arm link with yours, and you catch Kiri at your side.

The stray braids that hung by her neck like vines from a canopy of verdant haven swung while she walked. She guides you out of your solivangant sondering.

Her gestures were laconic. Her eyes marbled over with a generous concern as she whisked you away, grabbing a wooden bowl for herself and one for you as well where they were being distributed.

“Are you alright, dear? You’re zoning out a ton.” She whispers, placing a hand on your back.

You shake every former thought from your head, washing your mind clean.

“No, it is nothing. It’s foolish.”

“It’s not foolish if it’s bothering you.”

She corrects, looking down as she gathers some meat onto her plate from the communal fire.

You shift on your feet, eyes trailing her movements.

“I’m fine. I just..suppose i haven’t eaten enough today. Its making me spacey and slow.”

She nods slowly, her tail lightly swishing behind her.

“Well then, take this plate.”

She hands you the plate she had just finished filling with roasted sturmbeast, and squares of yovo fruit.

You shake your head graciously, handing it back yo her mindlessly.

“Oh Kiri no– no this was yours.”

She scoffs, waving you off.

“I'm more than capable of making myself a new plate.”

She smiles at you, and the familiarity of it is a comfort. 

The frail dark bangs that wisped lightly above her eyebrows sweep subtly in the night breeze, the weightless braids that hang on the sides of her head swing softly, you reach your hands out and tuck a strand behind her ear, your fingertips grazing the subtle honey-oak streaks, a delicacy in your touch as if you were handling something a fragile as a flower petal.

“You’re so good to me.” Your tone was beatific, gentle.

She smiles smugly, dragging her fingers across where your collarbones rose and fell upon each drawn breath before handing you the plate once again.

“I’m keeping you alive and fed.”

Lo’ak peaks himself from behind kiri, his tail swishing.

“Kiri can you make my plate next?”

Her smile drops.

“No. Make your own damn plate.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing another wooden piece to start piling with food for herself.

Lo’ak gawks, offended.

“You made Y/n’s no problem!”

“That’s because I like y/n. I tolerate you.”

You laugh as Kiri links her arm with yours, whisking you away to the large dwelling in the center of highcamp.

A large fire with meat cooking over it, and families scattered into their little circles and sat around the ground, people weaving in and out to reach their group.

Some families wave to you, calling out thanks as you walked, because it was you who had hunted the sturmbeest with neteyam they were eating now.

Kiri and you found a seat next to Mo’at. Neytiri, Lo’ak, Tuk, Neteyam, and Jake had not returned yet, so you 3 waited.

“Did you girls get everything you need?”

Mo’at asks, resting her hand atop her knee.

You nodded, taking a seat.

“Yes ma’tsahik. We did.”

There was an unspoken formality between you and Mo’at. Despite her knowing you since you were born. An implicit etiquette that’s been emplaced in you ever since childhood.

She reaches out for your arms, her nails scarcely printing tiny marks on your palm as she inspects your wrist and hand.

“Your cuts are healing.” She informs you, somehow knowing even though your incises from the day before are not visible anymore.

You figured the cuts you got from spider's mask would heal relatively quickly. However, the memories of the accident would leave a different kind of scar. 

You gently placed your hand back in your lap, your gaze only flicking away from Mo’at to see Tuk skipping towards your small sitting area with a bow in her hand.

“The lake water might have sped up the process. It’s not bothering me, though. Just another couple cuts to add to my collection.”

Kiri giggles, nudging your arm.

“Another paint stroke to complete the masterpiece. Maybe we should hang you up next to tuk’s artwork.”

You snicker, making room for the smaller na’vi in question as she scurries to your side, snuggling herself in place next to you on the log.

“Healing cannot be rushed, child. Scars are more than just victories. It’s time you know that.”

Tuk gasps just as Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Neytiri find their places in the circle. 

She peers her head over your shoulder, looking down at your palm.

“It’s gonna be a scar??”

She blinked up at you with those big, disquieted, doleful eyes. She concernedly fumbled with your fingers, and you have to quickly gather her bowl into your lap with your other hand before it tips off her own with all of her movement.

“Oh no Tuk. I’m okay, love.” You kissed the top of her head, smiling at the way her nose twitched when you did.

“Do you want a kiss? To make it better.”

“Awh, sure. Thank you.”

She presses her lips to your bandaged palm.

“Mwah! All better.”  her sweet and stagey movements make you melt, proudly admiring her work.

“Thank you, Tuk-tuk.”

“Mhm.”

She sits back down, and you hand over her bowl.

She starts to eat, carefully picking the seeds out of her fruit slices.

“Are scars good or bad?”

She muffles through a mouthfull of juices.

Jake shrugs, leaning over to wipe the corners of her mouth with his thumb.

“Depends who you ask.”

Neytiri nods, her hand pressed to her chest briefly as she swallowed her bite before speaking.

‘Your father is correct. Scars are pieces of our memories. We carry them with us.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, either. Back where i come from we wear our scars like badges of honor.”

Jake chimes in, setting his elbow on his knee, his back stretching forward.

Mo’at scoffed.

“Don’t listen to your father, children.”

Waving him off, she took a sip from her herbal tea. 

Jake frowned, wincing as if he were in a cramping-kinda pain.

“Oh, I think I just got a new one.”

“A what?”

Neytiri inquires, concerned, confused, placing a hand on her husbands back.

“A new scar?”

“From what?”

“My mother in law..agh, how she wounds me.”

Neytiri hisses, a smile breaking from her and my fathers lips. 

Mo’at is unamused.

Jake shakes his head as his laughter dies out.

“Come on, I mean, it’s symbolic.”

“Symbolic of what? Stupidity?”

Mo’at chuckled.

“Of bravery. Strength. Survival.”

Jake defies the Tsahik gently.

“Scars are cool.”

Lo’ak agrees half-mindedly, munching and speaking with a full mouth in a similar manner to Tuk.

“Look at y/n. Her scars are badass as fuck.”

You kept your head down. Stuck between accepting it as a compliment or perceiving it as pernicious.

“Lo’ak, we do not speak of others bodies.”

Neytiri sterns.

“Right, and how many times have i told you to watch that mouth.” 

Jake rebuked Lo’ak’s word choice rigorously, pinching the back of his neck lightly.

Lo’ak shrunk away from his touch, receiving it with nothing much than a scrunch of his face before continuing.

“Scars are like ways of saying ‘I got through it’. You know? I mean, I’d rather have a scar than the other alternatives.”

Neytiri opened her legs the slightest bit, propping up one crossed as she displayed the inner of her thigh. With delicate fingers, she traced over a darkened discoloration, a jagged scar that dragged across the surface.

“This scar appeared shortly after giving birth to Tuktirey.”

She explained, her tone soothing and benign. 

You leaned forward, getting a closer glimpse at it.

Tuk pouted, guilt striking her expression.

“I did that? I’m sorry.”

You gently drew her closer to your side, a small laugh that was horribly compressed left you.

“No, Tuk. You didn’t do it. Some mothers get them after having babies. It’s normal.”

You explained.

Neytiri nodded, smiling graciously at you for explaining so gently.

“That’s right. And it has been with me ever since that day. It’s a symbol. Like your father says. Celebrating the day of arrival for a gift in my life.”

She gently runs her slender fingers down Tuk’s cheek in an affectionate stroke, Tuk giggles at the sensation.

Jake took a swig from his cup.

“Hell, if that’s not strength, I don’t know what is. I know I sure as hell couldn’t do it.”

“Ew dad. We know. We know how the male body works.”

Kiri retorted, appalled.

“I’m surprised mom doesn’t have a scar from giving birth to Lo’ak and his big head.”

Neteyam mumbles into his cup, clearly not quietly enough.

A laugh was shared around the circle, even Neteyam shaking with chuckles as his head hung low for the moment.

Tuk looked at you, big eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“You have scars. Do you like them??”

The circle became silent for a moment.

“Tuk!”

Neytiri and Jake both hissed in unison, their tone hesitant, scold-like.

“Tuk, we don’t ask such things.”

Neteyam, always the 3rd parent, corrects softly.

Tuk glances back at you, the sully’s eyes tracking her gaze.

You shook your head, clearing your throat of the hoarsness.

“No, no. Its alright. I mean, we were talking about it, right? No harm in asking.”

You turned to tuk, your eyes softening at the sight of her.

“Most of them, yes. They are symbols, like your father says. Scars are like..stories. Every single one has a place of origin, epitomes of remaining unbroken.”

“I like this one.”

Tuk points to the scar on your shoulder, the zig-zag imprint that dragged across the plate of your acromion almost resembling lightning.

You smiled, letting her trace her smaller fingers over it.

“So do i.”

You whisper.

Neytiri smiles at the both of you. Her gaze holds its tender warmth, radiating its warmth like a sun ray washing your soul.

“My beautiful girls.” She coos, reaching out to kiss Tuk’s head and Tuk a braid behind your ear.

She turns to Kiri, side-gazing at Lo’ak and Neteyam.

“All of you are beautiful. No matter how many scars you have, you are all so much more than what lies on your skin.”

“We’re not beautiful Neteyam and I are stoic, unfeeling, we don’t have time for that.”

Lo’ak affirms, proudly slinging an arm around Neteyam, making him lurch to the side awkwardly, a couple of fruit slices roll off his plate due to the action.

“Lo’ak, my food.” Neteyam swats Lo’ak away.

Neytiri pouts, “No, both of my sons are beautiful.”

She grabs Neteyam’s face, peppering it with kisses before she does the same to Lo’ak.

Lo’ak groans, floundering in her hold.

“Ma, come on..stop..Okay, okay, stop. I’m not beautiful, I’m handsome.”

Neytiri taps his nose with her finger. “You’re both.”

 She giggles.

“You’re neither, you hell-raiser.”

Kiri hisses blatantly.

The air remained unscathed of burden as laughter simmered in the air, you found nepenthe with the Sully family, making the night seem so endless it could stretch into the stratosphere. 

»»———–➤𖤓☽꩜———–➤𖤓☽꩜———𖤓☽꩜———–➤»»———–𖤓☽꩜———»

You laughed as you spun Tuk around by her arms, the meaningless balter keeping her entertained her laughter.

“Again! Again!”

She laughs, jumping up and down, reaching up to be spun around again.

You smile, grabbing her arms.

“Okay, okay- ready? 1…2..3..”

Supporting her tightly by her forearms, you swing her around as her squeals of laughter flood your ears.

“Y/n, you up for a quick flight?”

It was Jake’s voice that beckoned your attention. You turned away from playing with tuk to see him gathering the wooden bowls in his arms to haul back to the sully’s tent.

“Right now?”

He nods, shifting the pile in his arms. “Yeah. I mean, do you have something planned?”

You can’t remember the last time Jake Sully willingly encouraged anyone in his family to go on ikran out after dark since the return of the Rda unless it was him and Neytiri for the occasional date night.

You turn to Neytiri,  who only gives Jake a pensive look.

“Will you be out late?”

He shakes his head.

“Of course not, baby. Just taking Y/n out for a little nighttime crusade.”

Neytiri nods, slowly and pensively as she hands the bowls in her hands over to Neteyam.

There’s a stretch of quiet that spreads through the air. High camp was settling down for the evening. Families gathering up their food and families and eating ware and retreating back to their tents and huts for rest. It was unusual to be out past that tim unless Jake had arranged a patrol group.

“Where are you guys even going this late?” Lo’ak queries intrepidly.  

Jake shrugs, starting to walk behind Mo’at, who held hands with Tuk and walked alongside Kiri back towards the sully’s tent.

“Just got something’s to discuss.”

Jake’s answers are succinct and ambiguous.

Neteyam rears himself closer to Jake, his steps carefully matching pace with his father as he carted the woven sack of sitting mats under his arm.

“Will you be discussing the next raid? I can accompany you both if needed, father.”

He glances at you preventively, as if desiring to shape himself into a shield around you.

Jake causally declined his offer, patting his shoulder supportively.

“I think we’re good for tonight, son. You can rest easy.”

Neteyam nods, but you can tell he’s chastened. Jake always kept Lo’ak and Neteyam in this constant cage that clipped their wings, keeping them away from the fighting.

But something tells you this wasn’t about raid planning, or even the war.

Jake hands the pile in his arms off to Kiri, who mumbles under her breath as she tries to catch up with Mo’at. He turns to you, “Y/n, why don’t you run along and gear up Kailo. I’ll meet you at the crevice in a few minutes.”

Before you could answer, Neytiri appears behind him, her eyes softening soothingly, her gaze condemning with concern.

“Please be safe. Both of you.”

She whispered, placing a hand on your cheek and reaching up to kiss Jake’s shoulder.

“Baby, nothing will happen to her or me as long as I’m there.”

Neytiri doesn’t seem consoled.

“Y/n, please keep an eye on him.”

She sighs.

You chuckle, letting her kiss your hairline.

“I promise.”

She cracks a small smile, Jake reaches for her palm. Ghosting her fingertips across her lip, kissing the heel of her palm.

As if committing the feel of her skin to memory, even if he’s not away from her for long.

“Don’t worry I’ll be back before you know it.”

He winks at her, his eyes drifting to the cinch of her waist.

“Ew gross.”

You recoil, scrunching up your nose at Jake.

He rolls his eyes, waving you off.

“Go. Get your ikran ready. I’ll be there in a bit.”

You nod, jogging off to the rookery where your clans ikrans resided.

The air tonight was warm. Undertones of a glass remnants and tattered clouds. You were halfway to the crevice, quieting yourself with your inner thoughts, when you paused at the call of your name.

“Y/n!”

A juvenile voice echoes behind you. High pitched and distinct.

You turn around, and a small Na’vi child comes into view. She has yellow feathers in her hair. A woven grass top and braids that reached her shoulder blades. 

Popiti. She was one of your students. She was apart of the group of children Makeyo and you taught archery lessons.

“Popiti! What are you doing here, evi’? (Child, affectionate.)

She scampered to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, smiling wide.

“She wanted to come say thank you.”

Another voice gathered your attention.

A taller Na’vi slowly sweeps her way out of the shadows. Tall. Feminine. Her steps were rushed. They lacked gracefulness. Her confidence was pure forgery, wearing a mask made of fool's gold and a fetish for mystique.

“Kyuna.”

You greeted, your face rather neutral.

Kyuna was only older than you by a year. Regardless of your age, you always surpassed her in most aspects.

Hunting?

She could never finish a hunt. Meanwhile you were dragging home freshly arrows skin-deep in a yerik.

Status?

Everyone is valued in your clan. That was a known fact. But it was you who was named the Olo’eyktan a strongest warrior.

You were stronger. Faster. Smarter. 

It made you feel a bit guilty, how often so many didn’t make any effort to make your transcendence discreet. 

She smiled at you. It was thin. Fake. Feigning any ounce of genuine decency.

“Popiti here wanted to thank you for y tonight’s meal. It was you who hunted the sturmbeast, right?”

You nodded, still stroking the top of Popiti’s head affectionately

“Yes. I was. It was my pleasure, Popiti.”

You smiled graciously down at the little girl who beamed up at you as if you were everything she ever wanted to become.

“When I get big, I’m going to be a warrior just like you. I’m gonna have a beautiful bow, with carvings and beads just like yours! And I’m gonna have-“

Your heart melts a bit as she rambles on, every word idolizing you.

A sudden hand on her head cuts her off. Kyuna pulls her closer in the opposite direction. Her ability to endure the nicety’s hanging by a thread. 

“Popiti, why don’t you run along home.”

Her smile pathetically conceals the bite in her tone.

“But I don’t know how-“

“Now.”

With a small, sad wave, the smaller Na’vi huffs and stomps away.

You tilt your head back up to Kyuna.

When your eyes met hers, you can tell she’s frustrated just by the mere sight of you.

You cleared your throat, trying to rid the awkward intermission from the air.

“It was nice of her to thank me in person. She’s a good kid.”

Kyuna’s arms remained crossed, her gaze distant, occupied with other things

“Mhm. I’m surprised you had time to see her, after all, you’re always busy with the Olo’eyktan or..or those Sully boys.”

Lo’ak and Neteyam were both men but whatever.

She clicks her tongue, raking your figure up and down.

You forced a laugh.

“Well, I am living with them after all.”

“And sleeping with them.”

You snap your head up. The comment a little too dour to be a meaningless joke.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh! Y/n, I’m sorry.”

She suddenly gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth that hangs wide open like an animal expecting food.

“I would never mean it like that, I just meant that ever since the clan decided to come up here to the mountains, everybody’s tents became a little…disorganized. Right? You’re sleeping in a hammock with Lo’ak? So I’ve heard.”

You don’t know where the fuck she would even ‘hear’ that from.

You straightened, your patience running thin and your tolerance for jealousy incredibly low.

“It’s two separate hammocks woven together. We’re not sleeping ontop of one another.”

You elaborated, chuckling to yourself.

“Can you even imagine sleeping so close to one of them? Well, I’m sure some would want to imagine it.”

Your tone carried a clear enmity.

Her cheeks flushed, her tail swishing fervently behind her.

Shes nervous now. What happened to all of that confidence?

“Well, I hope I don’t strike you as someone who’s desperate.”

“Oh no, of course not. That’s what makes people so good at it.”

You smiled, locking your fingers together behind your back.

She’s stunned for a moment. Stilling as her imperceptible brain struggles to process everything that’s been said.

“Well, I must be going. I have to meet with the Olo’eyktan. But I wish you a good night, Kyuna.”

She snaps out of her daze.

“H-huh? Oh. Oh yes, good night, Y/n.”

She stares at you. A mix of awe and envy compete for sovereignty.

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺ ‏𖦹  ₊⋆⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ 

“What are we doing here?”

You and Jake had flown into the night, and landed on one of the mountain tops, the flat rock making space for you both as he sat across from you.

“Have a seat, Y/n.”

You didn’t know why he had brought you there. And you were feeling anxious for n some unknown reason. When you left, Jake insisted you leave your bow and other weapons at home. He promised that you didn’t need them. But how could he know that? How can he possibly understand the stability you felt when those objects were near?

Death, chaos, war, grief, it didn’t wait for anyone. Ever.

“Am I in trouble?”

You asked, nervously shifting on your feet. The rest of the world seemed to drift farther and farther away.

“Y/n.”

“Because If I did something wrong, I can fix it. I promise.”

“Y/n.”

“Jake this is killing me just tell me why-“

“Y/n.”

You felt his large palms cup your biceps, holding you still.

“…yes?”

“Take a deep breath.”

He said softly.

You looked at him puzzled before inhaling in, holding it for a good 3 seconds then exhaling out.

“Attagirl. Are we calm now?”

You nodded, finally sitting across from him, crossing your legs.

He smiled at you, clearly proud of himself.

“Y/n, welcome to your very first therapy session.”

You begged the finest pardon?

You froze. 

Did you hear him right?

Therapy. The word sounded familiar. Then you remember that day he told you about it when you both went hunting.

Should you laugh? Be pissed? Both?

“What the hell are you talking about. Jake?”

He shrugged.

“Well, I’m no professional-“

“Clearly.”

“But I’d figured this would help with…”

He considers his next words, opting for gesturing to your entire self with his hands, 

“Jake, I love you. I really do. You’ve done so much for me over the years. But I’m about 2 minutes away from rocking your shit.”

Not paying any mind to the threat. Jake waves his arms, ridding your frustration from the air.

“You know what, let’s start over. And please. Just give this a chance, yeah?”

“Fine.”

Jake leaned back, locking his fingers together and resting them on his stomach.

“Usually this kind of thing starts with a simple introduction.

Hi, my name is Jake. And I will be your therapist this evening.”

“Jake you know my name.”

He nods.

“Maybe I know your name yes, but I’m here to know your soul and what energy you put out into the universe.”

“Are you stroking out? What the fuck are you talking about.”

He groans.

“Come on kid, bare with me.”

You sigh defeatedly.

“Okay. Okay. Hi. My name is y/n. And I’m an adrenaline addict. Better?”

“…well, we had to start somewhere.”

☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

Authors note:

Stay hating Kyuna. Ik your itching like a bitch without your eczema cream 💕🫶🏽

lol anyways, I hope you guys Enjoyed this chapter. It’s very rushed but I had so much writing sully family fluff. And starting next chapter, we’ll get into Neteyam starting his training with Y/n. And you best believe there is some tension 😌 also you’re gonna have mini therapy sessions with Jake from now on. Remember when they discussed that in chapter 3?? lol.

But I wanted to share a little life update with you guys. I hope you don’t mind. For those of you who don't know, I’m in a relationship. And yes, sme of you probably know him as the guy who was the victim of my cgi faces avatar experiment 🤭

GUYS YOUR GIRL GOT A PROMISE RING 🥳🥳

Now, I don't want anyone thinking I'm bragging or ‘rubbing it in others' faces)’…you guys are the first people I've told. I'm still in shock about it. The point of telling you guys this is that love is beautiful, and I don't think my writing can even begin to express the full extent of that. And one of the many things I love is writing for you guys. I know you guys have never met me and probably never will, and I'm just some person tapping away about blue aliens and posting my silly little rants from time to time, but please know that I appreciate all of you. Every single one of you who read, support, comment, like, repost, my anons, my followers, the friends I've made here, I hope I make you guys as happy as you all have made me. I can’t wait to share my fics and creations with all of you. One of the reasons I love writing for ‘y/n’ and reader inserts is because as someone who has read y/Insert fics, I know how special they can make us feel. So long rant short, I hope I make you guys feel like sexy, gorgeous, devastatingly beautiful, badass bitches yall are ☾⁺☀︎₊𖦹✮⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⁺☀︎₊ ⁺☀︎₊☾⁺☀︎₊ ⋆⁺𖦹₊⋆⁺☀︎₊

Taglist 🪐🌑🪻

@fluorynn (my guest of honor 👑)

@mntx666

@isnt-itstrange @thebestrouge

@bay7let

@fairuzwhat

@jackiehollanderr

@6423btw

@satesatesate2009

@OstargirlO

@heavenlysstuff

@dayyzlol

@iheartamajiki

@fluorynn

@bakugouswaif

@eljaynosine-triphosphate

@mojo-jojo-1

@strongheartneteyam

@hungrynessforfics

[wewontbesleeping]

sincerely never gotten over anything in my life

[lovegasmic]

i LOVEEEE ur writing !!! can I request a bff gojo x fem reader where gojo starts to get close to another girl n the reader is kinda sad/worried ??? idk i was just thinking about the song dark red by steve lacy and the lyrics “only you my girl,only you babe” IT CAN BE SMUT OR SFW AAA

⋆ slightly angsty but also fluff because of course, we don't believe in sad endings in this house ‹3. jealous reader + oblivious satoru.

 ⋆ I was hearing that song while writing this and hello?!? it's so good like !!! so bff satoru coded waaaah, also thank you for the compliment, sending you many hugs 🩷

I will work on the bff satoru masterlist soon ^^

there have been moments in Satoru’s life when he felt uneasy, although none of those moments were strong enough to stick for more than a couple of hours, much less for a whole week. but you are a mystery.

he’s not certain why you’ve been refusing his hang out invitations, Satoru senses your coldness even through texts, the usual back and forth teasing no longer there, and replaced by a disgusting ‘k.’

Satoru’s phone bounces on the bed for the fifth time in the night, followed by his palms rubbing on his face and the slight tug on his soft, white hair in sheer frustration, you’re messing with his head, making his chest tug, and palms itch. the phone call goes straight to your voice mail, —most likely filled with his pleading voice. the option of visiting you is always present, but the blue eyed is certain your short, black haired roommate is already sick of him, eyes rolling behind the crystal of her glasses as she speaks in that annoyed tone, “i told you she’s not here”.

it’s all lies, Satoru knows it, he is your best friend and has already memorized your schedule by heart, “can you tell her I seriously need to speak to her?” Satoru responds, eyes filled with worry as he leans on your apartment doorframe, attempting to take a peek into the place, but quickly getting his hopes broken by the door smashing right in front of his face. for the nth time.

walking down the memory line didn’t work either, his focus was on the last time you hung out, on how your mood suddenly shifted after Satoru casually met with one of his new colleagues, who happened to be going in the same direction to you both, and her hand was awkwardly eager to be holding onto the white haired’s bicep. but then again, you were not a jealous person, and Satoru made sure to remind you how he’ll never replace your spot as his best friend.

“are you sure you’re alright, sweetheart?” he had asked that night, watching you mindlessly play with the hem of the blanket draped over your laps as you watched a movie, concern etched on his words.

“mhm, just tired” you mumble back, yet your eyes didn’t sparkle like they should, nor did they miss the way his phone rang with a text from the girl you saw earlier.

we should hang out soon ;)

and Satoru was quick to send a ‘sure!’ completely and utterly oblivious of the girl’s flirting.

“want me to leave? so you can take a nap” he says, brows furrowed and eyes locked on your face from above the rim of his dark glasses, he did not want to leave, but your health was more important; although in your ears his suggestion sounded more like a ‘i’ll leave so I can hang out with that girl’ and that bothered you quite a lot.

“yeah,” you’re quick to reply, standing up abruptly and dragging the blanket with you, “see you another time” and that was another lie, since you did not meet with Satoru in the next 3 days.

“fuck” he mutters, staring at the ceiling, strands of messy hair splayed on the pillow, “you’re not that busy... are you?” Satoru asks himself, about to slam his head against the wall.

it’s Sunday and he’s most likely looking like a stalker right now, pacing back and forth in front of your apartment complex, waiting for anything, until the sign comes, your roommate is quick to leave the building, a gym bag and a strange stick-like tool under her arm, and he knows you’re at home, of course he knows.

Satoru is up in three steps, and two knocks on your door. “Maki, did you forget your keys again?” your voice echoes in the room and his heart skips a beat.

“dunno where are yours but you can ta— Satoru...?” you ask, eyes widened slightly at the imposing form of your best friend towering above you.

“mm, i’m glad you still remember my name” he murmurs, attempting to tease but the sight of your tired face burns in his chest, flicking a single hair strand away from your forehead, “can I come in?”

you swallow, “what are you doing here?”

“pfft, can’t I visit my stunning best friend who has been ignoring my calls?”

“i haven’t...” you murmur, drifting your gaze and stepping back to allow him to get in, it was obvious Satoru were not going to leave any time soon, “i’ve been busy”

he snorts, splaying on the couch in your living room with long legs resting on the coffee table, “you’ve been worse and yet at least answer my texts” he taps the seat next to him, expecting for your thighs to brush like you always sit, but instead, your distance hurts.

“tell me what’s wrong”

“nothing’s wrong!” you say, slightly defensive, “i told you i’m busy”

“you were just fine a week ago, but got mad out of nowhere” Satoru speaks softly, squeezing your knee, not realizing the slight tremor running down your spine, “doll, if you’re jealous of—”

you clasp your hand on his mouth, “don’t finish that sentence” and Satoru’s eyes fill with realization, nodding like an obedient child.

“come on, I told you you’re my only best friend, darling” he whispers, sliding his hand from your knee and up your thigh, across your side until it settles on your nape.

“i don’t think what I feel is simple friendly jealousy.” the grip on the back of your neck tightens as soon as the words leave your mouth, breath hitching and eyes widening slight.

there’s a slight twitch in the corner of his lip at your confession, leaning in just briefly, “yeah?” he mutters, attempting —and failing miserably — at concealing a smirk, “are you in love with me?”

“don’t get too cocky” you mumble back, frowning but unable to tear your gaze away from his lips and eyes.

“you just admitted it” he grins brightly, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, brushing his nose across your jaw, “so that was the problem, hm? you’re so cute when you’re jealous”

“Satoru, i swear...” you start, mixed feelings of embarrassment and longing settling in your chest.

he sighs deeply, breath fanning over your skin where Satoru slides his lips across, inhaling your scent deeply, fuck... how much he missed you, “don’t ignore me again...“ he starts, ghost touches now turning into brief kisses on your jawline, trailing up until his lips press on the corner of your mouth and his thumb slides under your bottom lip, long fingers caging the side of your face, “...i like you too...” he breathes, meeting your gaze and flicking to your lips, “i just want you, only you, my girl”

reblog and/or comment if you want me to write the smut for this 🤭🎤

[roturo]

⋆.˚⭒⋆.˚ WATCH IT!

Gojo Satoru didn't predicted this move... So he ended up fucking you lol ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ G!Satoru x afab!reader and sex pollen!

tags: smut, sex pollen, unprocteted sex (wrap it and pee after sex), overstimulation (like A LOT), use of nicknames (princess, baby, good boy, love...) multiple rounds, praise kink, angst if you squint your eyes till you cry like gojo, sub(ish)!gojo satoru, god complex, fluff if you take one eye out, crack, belly bulgde, creampie, breeding kink, crempie kink, A LOT of cum, dumbfication, cock warming, npr.

A/N: happy holidays! might be my last writing of the year so i wish you lots of love and happiness <3 i might write pt2 for this one and 'she's back', which one would you like first?

o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

DAY 1: HOW IT STARTED

How the fuck at his grown ass age Gojo Satoru could be this stupid. And that’s big coming from him, because this man considers himself the senior of seniors and god of gods. So, how come he falled into this?

And you know what? Maybe it is his fault! For believing he’s a superior and underestimating such a weak and useless curse he just killed. But, this weak and useless curse has him going crazy. That really was karma paying back to him because motherfucker- Why is he feeling all giddy and hot all of sudden? This has never happened to him before, so that’s why he’s losing his mind right now and almost sprinting into his room because of how bothered he was feeling to just teleport. 

Everything was like hell. Really, like hot as hell. And how does Satoru know that? Uh well, because he’s living it right now.

He couldn’t bear the sensation anymore and dialogue Shoko’s number like it was a habit.

“What do you want, Gojo? I’m in the middle of trying to know how Yuuji’s body is capable of being Sukuna’s vessel. Like- It’s quite important right now, and more than debating about some of your dumb tv shows you-”

Shoko’s voice was interrupted by a whine coming from Gojo’s line, seconds of silence continued the awkward moment between the both of them, while all Gojo could do was breathe and maintain his whines inside of his body before he started literally moaning.

“Are you okay, Gojo?...”

“Fuck, no. Some fucking curse sprayed me all over with some fucking stinky pollen. Didn’t even taste great, by the way. And now I'm just feeling really hot, sometimes dizzy… or kinda giddy? fuck. And my breathing became irregular. I’m fucking sprawled out in my bed trying to find a comfy position but my legs won’t cooperate.”

A loud laugh was heard coming from Shoko’s line. It was clear she’s been holding it all this time just trying to make sure she’s gettin it right.. and well. 

“Gojo.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you hard right now?”

Silence. 

“You know what? I’m sending Y/N over there with some medicine. You’ve been sprayed with sex pollen by the way.”

Sex- what?! 

Before he couldn’t even ask Shoko any question since she quickly hung up. Leaving a needy and confused (and hard) Gojo.

Knock. Knock. 

No answer, but a weird sounding moan? You gave yourself permission to enter Gojo’s room since no life signals were heard. But- holy fuck. Was this a reward or a punishment from the gods?

He was kneeled down on his bed, one of his hands used as a support placed in his bare calf while his other hand was as fast as possible jerking himself off. You stayed still some seconds before rewinding back to what Shoko told you before coming here.

“He might be another type… of… Gojo?... Anyways. He’ll be really needy and like a lost puppy looking for some salvation. I gave you this backpack with all you would need, yeah? Thank me later and good luck.”

So that’s why her flat ass was quickly sending you off with a backpack full of water bottles and snacks. Sex fucking pollen. Great.

It’s not like people don’t know that both of you have been crushing into each other lately, hell- even his newest student asked about this. But you never expected for it to be like this.

“G-Gojo…?”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but it’s like a hawk located his next prey because of how instant his reaction was just for your voice. A drunk smile on his face, while both of his hands fall infront of him trying to hide the act that was going on minutes ago. His sculptured white as snow body covered in a hot layer of sweat. Not being able to catch a breath thanks to this sight, somehow he’s in front of you. 

“Are you here to help me? Y/N?”

His voice sounded so different. But at the same time it was just Gojo.

A small nod was all the reaction he got. You could smell that sweaty smell, looking down you found yourself looking at a large wet spot staining his black briefs. While his cock does nothing to imagination, marking perfectly the shape of it. Moving your gaze to his v-line, a white happy trail proudly adorning it. Eyes moving up, you found yourself looking at his clearly erected nipples, But all this examination was over once he interrupted your thoughts.

“I need a verbal affirmation, princess”

Ah, the nicknames. If you weren’t wet by now, you’re pretty sure you’re leaking right now all because of him.

“Yes Satoru, I’ll help you.”

His knees felt weak. Literally. He kneeled down in front of you, it was like he hypnotized and somehow could smell through your body into emotions. His hands were cold but hot at the same time he roamed your body.

You tried warning him by calling his name while he started kissing the softness of your thighs, telling him to at least move you towards the bed. And his body was doing what you said like if you were controlling him, while his mind was somewhere else. He moved the both of you towards his bed, making you lie down. His head not wasting any second between your thighs until his nose touched where you needed him the most and you whimpered at the feeling. Clearly triggering a new kind of need inside Gojo.

Everything happened really fast. Between some kisses and moaning, Gojo ripped your shorts and pantoes a muffled noise coming out from him of what you suppose was “I’ll buy you new ones later” but right now you couldn’t care less.

Not when his tongue slowly started tracing the way from your entrance until it reached your core. Teasing it with kitten licks, while his hands remained on your hips from preventing moving them.

His tongue quickly found a rhythm between your entrance and your clit, forming infinite signs between them. And the simulation was too much you couldn’t notify Gojo about your orgasm- But he was so lost in the feeling of your thighs suffocating him and the taste of yourself in his lips, he swears he could die as a happy man right now.

And like it wasn’t enough, Gojo kept eating you out even after your intense orgasm. Overstimulation taking over your body, trying to take him off your core, ended up with annoyed groans coming out from him.

“Satoru, love, fuck. I need you to stop, please.”

The nickname had him exploding with happiness, he really looked like a puppy from this angle. His eyes looked ethereal, his mouth covered with your fluids and his face was with a cute smile while he called out your name.

“Will you please let me fuck you?”

A small giggle came out from your mouth, Gojo’s face looked a little sad and embarrassed, but was quickly erased when you pecked his lips. And that was all he needed to clumsily take off his briefs and while he climbed back to the bed, taking off your top while doing so. His eyes were full of adoration looking over your body, before he pressed his lips into yours, locking them for a long moment, clearly enjoying the moment, before the kiss turned more heated and he started kissing every part of your body again.

His tip was now wet thanks to your folds, Easily slipping through it. 

“Ffuck- Ssatoru- Be a good boy and put it in, please?”

Gojo needed no more words before thrusting his cock whole into you with one swift movement, hitting perfectly against that spongy spot that made you see stars. But something didn’t feel right. Not in a bad way. Since you re-opened your eyes to find a glassy eyed Satoru mumbling a lot of ´sorry’s´ while he kept thrusting.

Oh.

He came with just one thrust and was overstimulating himself, still rock hard with no break while he hid his face in the crook of your neck while marking it as his and tearing down from the pleasure. 

You’re pretty sure he came again, when he whimpered your name and moaned against your ear but still continued thrusting into you perfectly. And he was so lost in the pleasure of overstimulating himself he didn’t realize once he confessed to you.

“You’re so pretty- ffuck– I really want to make you mine now. So no one could look at you, not even in a friendly way. Just… have you all for me- sshit. I love you.”

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, thinking it was all because of the moment, so you just had to enjoy it for now. His thrusts were so  fast and hard, but somehow still felt romantic. Like this was a normal routine on a daily basis. And you would be disgusted by the pool of cum forming under the both of you if you weren’t so close to your third orgasm this night. No matter how many times you told Gojo to stop for a moment and take a break, he would cum again, and still be hard so he had to keep thrusting.

Your mind is lost now. All you could ever think about right now was Gojo Satoru and his immense cock. He wouldn’t stop mumbling praises to you, saying this was all for you to feel good and he would stop once you cum at least 3 times more than him. A hard dare to get over with. Or maybe it already happened?

You begged for mercy, not thinking he could get another orgasm out of you. Hell- to even get an orgasm out of him. His hands interweld into yours, and moved it down towards your tummy.

“Do you feel it, baby? I'm right here. Ahh~ I’m pretty sure my cum is there too heh. Your tummy is full of me and my cum.”

He sounded drunk. Like. Really drunk. But his words took off your last orgasm of the night, apparently your reaction making his trigger off and cum… dry?

How many fucking times did Gojo Satoru came inside you?

Will pills even prevent a pregnancy?

“Ah- shit baby.”

You couldn’t pay attention to him anymore, quickly slipping into dreamland. Gojo not once leaves your side. Literally. He was cock-warming, still hard, but no energy (and cum) to continue his misery.

You were here at 7.45 o’clock, one last look at the clock and it was 3.23 in the morning.

And it was like you just blinked, because a whimper came out of your mouth. Looking again into the clock, it was 10 AM, and Gojo was not over.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hi! I love your writing so much!! I'm currently loving your freelance inventor series! I don't see a lot of danny/bruce fics so it's always fun when you post one!! What danny thinks of the justice league, does he think they're just Bruce's extreme sports friends? Or his kids friends parents?

Danny first meets Bruce's extreme sports friends when Dick plans to introduce Wally-his first boyfriend- on a water skiing trip. It went a little hair-walled due to the misunderstanding.

He had been around the manor with some free time, so he asked Bruce if he could join once Dick brought up the trip and made a comment on how important things he needed to talk about.

Usually, Danny wouldn't have bothered, but because it was so long that thier friendship had started he felt like it was a good time to ask.

At first, both the Waynes appeared to be dancing around the subject that, for a second, Danny thought they didn't want him there. Not wanting to make them feel pressured—and a little embarrassed he had assumed he could tag along—he backtracked quickly, making up an excuse about flying out to see Dani.

There was an awkward dinner that evening, so Danny left immediately. He had planned on staying the night at Wayne Manor, but he felt he had overstayed his welcome from his silly request. Instead, he rented a hotel room in the more dangerous parts of the city.

Danny had been on the hotel's phone line all night, attempting to find a plan to take him somewhere close to Dani. He could fly with his powers the rest of the way, but he needed to create some kind of paper trail.

While he listened to the hold music of the airline representative, he felt a wave of shame. At that point, Danny had only known Bruce and Dick for a year- but with various breaks in between visits- and had thought that made them closer. Who did he think he was?

Bruce wanted their relationship to stay as business associates who occasionally hung out but nothing as important as a vacation trip. Danny had just been the idiot who thought himself more important.

Well, he would not be making the same mistake. He would only come back if it involved his work and would find his own lodging from now on. The Waynes had likely not know how to say no to him.

Idiot, Danny thought, pacing in his room and wiping away tears. Idiot. Stupid. Moron. Of course, Bruce Wayne doesn't think of you as a friend! Get a clue!

"Thank you for waiting, Mr. Fenton. A first-class plane ticket to Calais, France, has been booked for you on Monday, July 7th. Would you like to make this a round trip?" the cheerful woman asks him, and he sniffs.

"No. It's a one-way. I won't be coming back here for a while." The words feel like knives in his chest

She doesn't notice as she chirps "Alright then, that has been done for you. Thank you for using Wayne Airlines!"

Ugh, he even used Bruce's planes by accident. At least this will be the last thing he annoys the man with. The following morning, bright and early Danny is out the door with his suit case. He makes it all the way to the lobby where he bumps into a fretting Dick and some red head kid.

"Danny!" Dick cries. He flings himself onto his waist, squeezing with all his might. Danny is flabbergasted. "Danny, I only wanted Bruce to go on the water ski trip because I wanted to tell him about my boyfriend! I haven't told him I was bisexual yet, I wanted to tell him on the trip, but I made him swear not to mention it to anyone else, but then you asked to go, and Bruce couldn't figure out a way to tell you no without revealing that I wanted to talk about something important-but then you got sad, and then Bruce got sad and I-"

"Babe." The redhead cuts in. "Breath"

"Danny, please don't be mad at Bruce because of me!" Dick cries, rubbing his face against Danny's stomach. "I promise we didn't want to exclude you!"

Danny's heart melts, both by how cute Dick is and the knowledge that Bruce was just a good dad and not any of his insecure-inspired conclusions. "Oh, Dick. I'm sorry you felt that. I promise I'm not mad, and I'm so proud of you. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me."

He leans down to hug the boy, grinning as the ten year old sighs. Then he directs a glare at the redhead. He looks about twelve and frankly, Dick is far too young for a boyfriend. "Who's this?"

"I'm Wally West-"

"I asked Dick"

"Oh."

Dick leans back. "This is Wally. He's my best friend and boyfriend! Wally, this is Danny- he's like my second dad."

"It's nice to meet you, sir!" The redhead gulps as Danny's eyes narrow.

"Pleasure." He says in a voice that means anything but. "Dick, sweetie, how did you get here? Does Bruce know where you are?"

"Wally and I...ugh took a cap." Dick everts his eyes. "Bruce was talking to his friends trying to convince them to go on the trip too. He wanted to prove you were his special friend to his regular friends."

A thrill ran through Danny. He was Bruce Wayne's best friend!? "You know I think I can take you kids back home myself. Maybe we can still make a water ski trip!"

Both boys blink owlishly. "Yeah...maybe. Let me just call Uncle Barry to make sure he's going, too."

Wally sprinted to the front desk to borrow their landline while Dick stayed behind, babbling to Danny about how he knew he was bi and how he met Wally. Mentally, Danny was drafting a lecture to give Bruce for allowing his boy to date a co-worker and friend's nephew, especially at this young age! He didn't let his thoughts appear on his face, only nodding and smiling between Dick's word vomits.

Meanwhile, on Wally's side, he uses the Justice League hotline to speak to his Uncle. His call was transferred to the meeting with all the original founders as he used the emergency code accesses Barry had taught him.

His call was placed on speaker for everyone to hear.

"Code Teal for B! Code Teal for B!" he hissed into the phone. The rest of the members sat up straighter and sent Batman looks of alarm. Code Teal was a spouse or lover who thought a hero was cheating on them because of the mission's old hours. We needed to come together to cover for them.

Batman was hiding his face in his hands. ".....Confirm Code Teal."

"Oh and before I forget Code Artificial red for Dick and me" Wally shouts, ignoring the imploding shouts from Batman or Uncle Barry.He hung up not wanting to explain that the boys had chosen to use Fake-out-make-out in order to convince Danny to stay.

He wouldn't mind dating Dick, but maybe later when they were both older. Not that Danny needed to know that.

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[ashwhowrites]

Hi, can i request an angst fic? insecure eddie where there is a misunderstanding with soft reader and due to his rejection trauma, he acts douchy as a defense mechanism. Soft reader, not used to get treated harshly, she turns cold. But then when eddie figured out that reader is more important than his ego, he finally trying to resolve his trauma before reconcile back with reader, although took some time and effort. Happy ending!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Push away

Eddie knew he protected his feelings to an extreme. He hurt people before they could hurt him. He refused to be close to anyone, people always left. He was horrible at relationships. The second he felt the walls caving in, he was out the door.

Not many people had good things to say about him, and he didn't give them opportunities to.

Y/N was a soft and polite girl. She was quiet but spoke passionately. Y/N didn't talk to many people, but no one had anything bad to say about her. Until Eddie Munson proved that theory wrong.

~~~

Y/N couldn't remember when her crush on Eddie surfaced, but he was all she could think about. They had some classes together, and he sat across the room but at her eye level. She could stare and daydream for as long as she wanted.

It took her weeks to get the courage to say something to him, but she was glad she did. Because after that, a friendship began.

She didn't want to scare him off with her feelings, so she settled for just being his friend first. She could get to know him and enjoy being with him without having it mean anything more.

Eddie actually really enjoyed having her around. He wasn't the best at letting anyone in, but something about her felt comforting and warm. His brain was able to shut off around her. Their friendship felt easy to him. He wasn't worried about impressing her or trying to be someone he wasn't. For once, he was able to be just friends with a girl.

They hung out mostly every day. The second school ended, she was in his van and they'd go to his trailer and watch random movies.

The one thing Y/N didn't think through, was how hard it was going to be to act like she wasn't falling for him. They kept everything at a friend level, and she wasn't sure if it was the best idea to push for more. Eddie was a loner, and she should be grateful she made it this far.

But the more they hung out, and the more he wrapped his arm around her shoulder during movies, she couldn't think straight. All she could think about was holding his hand and feeling his lips move against hers.

"What's going on in there?" Eddie's voice caused her to snap into reality. His finger lightly pushed on her forehead.

"Sorry, what?" She blushed, blinking as she moved her eyes away from Eddie's face.

"You were staring and barely moving. You seemed to be in deep thought. Penny for your thoughts?" He reached over and paused the movie. His full attention was on her as she gulped.

She didn't know what to say. There was no way she was going to confess how she felt about him. But maybe she should? He seemed to be more comfortable with her and he constantly was touching her in some type of way.

Oh for fucks sake, go for it

"I have a crush on this guy, and I can't get him out of my head." She whispered, she worried if she said it loud enough it would be more real.

Eddie wasn't sure what he felt, but it wasn't good. He almost felt hurt that she would admit that to his face. But why should he care, it wasn't like they were dating or that he even liked her that way.

"Oh, well. Why don't you ask him out?" Eddie said he tried to sound like he didn't care. He was helping a friend.

"I can't tell if he likes me back. I enjoy having him in my life and I don't want to scare him off."

"Yeah, that's fair. Maybe compliment him, get close, and lean in for a kiss. If he leans in, go for it." Eddie wanted to smack himself. He didn't want her perfect lips to be touching some loser. But again, he was just a friend and he didn't have a say in that.

"Okay, kinda like this?" She whispered, her heart racing out of her chest as she placed her palm on Eddie's thigh. The rough material of his jeans scratched against her skin as she softly moved her hand down to his knee and then back up again.

Eddie felt his breathing stop as she lingered on his thigh. He wanted to look away but her eyes had him in a daze. His stomach flipped and he hated the way he was slightly turned on. He can't be feeling like this, because then he would have to admit he felt something. He searched his brain for an escape, he tried to move his legs but he was paralyzed.

All he could do was watch in horror as she leaned in. Her eyes searched his as she moved closer, her mouth inches away from his.

"Then I'd kiss him, right?" She whispered against his lips, and before he knew it he leaned in.

She felt the weight off of her shoulders as her lips crashed on his. Her eyes closed as she savored the feeling of his soft lips against hers. Her head spun as he gripped her waist and kissed her back. Her thoughts were gone as their kiss deepened. Her hands moved up his thigh, to his chest then around his neck, he pushed her body against his. He swallowed her moans as his tongue licked her bottom lip. She didn't think twice about opening her mouth to allow his tongue to touch hers.

The moment was perfect

The moment was everything she dreamed

It was everything she needed to say the words

She pulled away breathing heavily, and her eyes fluttered open. Eddie slowly blinked, like he wasn't sure where he was as he stared at her.

Then something snapped.

His hands yanked her arms off of him and he flew off the couch. He paced fire into the floor as he walked back and forth.

"What the fuck was that!"

Y/N was taken aback by how angry he sounded. She nervously tried to form an answer.

"I did what you said." Her voice was calm but confused. "I like you, Eddie."

Her words glued his feet to the floor. He was stuck, his feet felt too heavy to pick up as his breathing picked up.

He felt it

He felt the walls caving in. The room got smaller as he struggled to breathe. Her eyes haunted him as she watched. He felt like his body was being crushed between two walls and he couldn't push them apart.

"Well don't," he spat out harshly. She felt her body flinch as his eyes glared down at her. "I mean what is wrong with you? Why did you have to fuck up the friendship we had?"

She really did not understand why he was so angry. Even if he didn't like her, that wouldn't cause him to be so agitated.

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted me to! You didn't move my hand, and you leaned in. And you kissed me back. I mean you deepened the kiss. I thought that meant you liked me too" She apologized. She worried she might have made him uncomfortable.

"Why would I like you too? What possible idiotic theory are you basing that on?"

She tried not to cry as she stood up. She wasn't sure who the hell was across from her, because it was not the sweet boy she spent her time with.

"Why are you acting like this? I said I was sorry."

"Because I know if I allow myself to have feelings for you, you'll be the one I spend the rest of my life with," Eddie confessed, and that scared him the most.

"Would that be so bad? I know it's scary, but don't you think we should try?" She asked, she slowly moved closer to him. Her hand softly cradled his face.

Her touch turned him into ice. It was all too much and he needed her gone. He needed her out of his mind, his sight, and his life.

"Yes because I'll have to live with the regret of choosing you."

Y/N yanked her hand off of his face like he burned her. She felt like the air was kicked out of her lungs.

"Fuck you," she spat as hot tears rolled down her face. She turned around to grab her jacket off the couch. She didn't bother putting it on, she slammed the door behind her as she left.

The loud bang echoed through the trailer as the walls moved back to their normal distance. Eddie could feel the air returning to his lungs as he dropped to the floor.

He escaped

But he wasn't sure how long the escaping would feel like freedom.

~~~

Eddie figured if she was out of sight, she'd be out of his mind

But he was wrong

She never left his head. Images of her smiling and laughing. But also the image of her crying and leaving. It's been a few days and they haven't talked. He knew they wouldn't, but he didn't think he'd miss her.

He escaped but this time it felt different. It made him feel worse. There wasn't any relief on his shoulders anymore; bricks piled on until it was too heavy to even stand up.

He missed having a friend. He knew he handled the situation horribly, and he wanted to apologize for it.

~~~

Y/N tried to ignore how awful she felt. She was embarrassed and regretted ever telling Eddie she liked him. But at least he showed his true colors and she could begin moving on.

Y/N hadn't seen Eddie since the big blowout, and Monday approached faster than she wanted. She wasn't sure how seeing him would go, but she knew she would ignore him.

~

Eddie had never felt so nervous to pull up to school, a endless pit settled in his stomach as he walked through the parking lot. He kept his eye out for Y/N's car, he wasn't sure if he wanted to find it or not.

Without catching a glimpse of her, Eddie walked into the school. He planned to wait at her locker until she showed up.

~

Y/N rolled her eyes as Eddie stood at her locker.

"Move," She mumbled with a blank stare.

"Can we talk?" Eddie asked, his voice shaky.

"We are already talking more than I wanted, now move and leave me alone." The seriousness in her voice broke Eddie down a bit, but he knew he deserved it.

He nodded and walked off.

But he wasn't going to give up.

~

Y/N sat at their usual table, Eddie wasn't sure if he was welcome to sit or not. He took a deep breath and dropped his tray on the table. She looked up from her lunch and looked right back down.

Eddie coughed and picked at his tray. His eyes kept peeking up to look at her but her head was always down.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Eddie said but she didn't flinch. "It was wrong and you didn't deserve that."

Y/N let out a heavy sigh and stood up.

She looked Eddie straight in the eyes, he took a deep breath as he waited for her to speak.

But she didn't

She gathered her lunch and walked off.

~

Eddie tried to apologize every single day, he switched his words and tried to say what she needed to hear. A week of silence and he couldn't let it go further.

He knew what happened was because of his past trauma and he felt he needed to understand first. Maybe then he could give her an explanation. So, he began therapy.

Within a few appointments, he understood he pushed her away because he was in love with her.

~~~

Y/N finished writing in her journal when she heard a knock at her window. Her curtains were shut, so whoever knocked was a mystery. She slowly stood up and crept towards her window, she was a tad scared but figured a robber wouldn't be asking for entry.

She peeked through the tiny crack of her curtain and saw Eddie's familiar curls. He stood on the small balcony. She sighed and walked back to bed.

Eddie could see her shadow moving and frowned when her lap shut off. Her room was dark and he lost sight of her. But he would stay here all night if he needed to.

He knocked again and called her name, but no response.

Y/N groaned annoyed at the constant knocks, but still remained in bed.

"I'm sorry. I know I fucked up and I might not ever make this up to you. But I figured out why I reacted that way."

His words made Y/N's ears perk, and she sat up in bed.

"I pushed you away because people always left. The people that I cared for, the people I loved. When you kissed me, I loved it. I felt complete like that emptiness those people left was filled by you. So I panicked, I wanted to leave before you left me. Which was wrong. Because I shouldn't have turned on someone that I love."

Y/N gasped as the final words left his lips. She had to pick between her pride and her heart. And she wasn't positive which one led her in the right direction.

"Can I just see you?" his knock was lighter than the rest, and his voice sounded like he was on the cliff of giving up.

She got out of bed and walked to her window. She pulled back the curtain and opened her window. Eddie smiled as he saw her face.

"Hi," he whispered, afraid to speak louder and frighten her.

"Are you saying you are in love with me?"

"I'm trying to, yes. And I don't expect that to fi-"

Eddie was cut off as Y/N captured his lips in a kiss. Eddie didn't hesitate and kissed her back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he leaned further in the window. Half his body leaned into her room as he chased her lips as she pulled away.

"It doesn't fix everything but I'm ready to forgive you and we'll fix it together." She said against his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered before he connected their lips again.

Tags!

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[tommydarlings]

take what’s yours and leave | t.w

pairing: toto wolff x reader

warnings: none

w/c: 0.8k

summary: after having another one of your infamous arguments with toto, you can’t take it anymore and tell him to take what’s his and leave, but you didn’t think that he would take your order that serious.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

You were fighting with toto… again.

The two of you were fighting regularly, always raising voices and walking away from each other and then back into each others arms again, this time it was different though.

He rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up and scoffed after you finished scolding him like a child, rolling his eyes at your behaviour, “Y/n, my love-”

“Don’t 'my love' me now, toto! I told you so many times already that you should give me a call or send me a quick message if you have to stay longer at the office at Mercedes! But every single damn time you just 'forget it' and let me sit here at home all alone and annoyed!” You spat up at the tall austrian.

Toto sighed and put his hands on his hips as he looked down at your angry figure, “I know, I know and I’m s-”

“Yeah, yeah you’re sorry, I know… I’ve heard this words a lot from you lately, toto,” you shook your head with a scoff, taking a few steps back from him, “I’m fucking tired of it, toto, I really am… you’re a grown man and you can’t manage to save some hours of your day for me…that’s sad if you ask me,” you shrugged.

Your older boyfriend ran his hands over his face, brushing his shirt hair back in the process, “baby, I know how fed up you are, but-”

“Then why do you keep-”

“Let me finish my sentence for once, okay?” He raised his voice a bit, making you gulp and look at the floor before he continued,

“But work is also very important to me, which doesn’t mean that you’re not important to me! Or that you’re less important! But I have responsibilities, my love, lots of tiring responsibilities that I need to take care of,” he told you in a calmer tone.

You cleared your throat and looked back up at him, “Then don’t be in a relationship if you’re work is exhausting,” you said angrily, still not being able to calm down.

Toto rolled his eyes and briefly let his head hung low at your comment, “You’re lack of understanding my work life is really unbelievable, isn’t it?” He looked at you from across the kitchen.

You chuckled and bit your lip, “my lack of understanding your work life?” You shook your head, “oh you got some balls, baby! I think your lack of acknowledging our relationship and the fact that you have something — or actually, someone, besides your stupid work life is unbelievably! No, it’s embarrassing!” You raised your voice as well and kept eye contact with your tall boyfriend.

Toto bit his inner cheek and shook his head, looking at the wall with crossed arms before he took a deep breath, “Now you’re speechless, huh? Because you know I’m right,” you added quickly.

The former racing driver raised his head and looked at you, “You know what?” You swiftly walked over to the modern door of your million dollar mansion and opened it, “take what’s yours and leave!”

You were furious, your blood was more than just boiling, you were really sick of him.

Toto scoffed again and bit his lip before a smirk made its way onto his face, making you furrow your browns in confusion.

Before you could even say anything, toto took long and quick steps towards you and swiftly picked you up, throwing you carelessly over his broad shoulder in a swift motion, giving you no time to protest.

You gasped and placed your palms onto his muscular back, “Toto, no! Let me down, what are you doing?” You asked him as his big, veiny hands squeezed your thighs,

“I'm doing what you told me to do, I'm taking what’s mine,” he told you calmly with — most probably — a cheeky smirk on his lips, making you almost — but only almost — laugh.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before you let your head hung low, “Toto… you know that’s not what I meant, now let me down!” You continued protesting.

Your boyfriend only turned around and walked back to the kitchen, his big hand tightly holding the back of your thighs so you don’t fall.

He chuckled deeply, “what did you say, beautiful? I can’t hear you from back there,” the Austria joked wickedly, forcing you to roll your eyes once again.

“I said-”

But before you could repeat your sentence, toto swiftly threw your off of his broad shoulder and put you right in front of the countertop, making your back lean against it as he slowly placed bit of his palms on the countertop next to your hips, intimidatingly leaning in,

“What did you say? I’m sorry that I interrupted you, sweetheart… now you can go on,” he mumbled quietly, waiting for you to speak up.

But you only gulped as you looked io at him with big eyes, gently shaking your head, “N-No, everything’s fine,” you said softly.

“Are you sure, baby? Nothing you wanna say to me?” Toto continued whispering to you, leaning in a bit closer so that your nose was almost brushing his.

“N-Nope,” you replied almost nervously since he was so close.

He smirked before he took a step away from you again, “alright, if you say so, mein liebes,” my love.

[phantomrose96]

Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 2

(Sham Sacrifice: Chapter 1)

Chapter 2, because @ciestess voiced an idea that absolutely consumed my entire mind and I could not rest until I made this

...

Danny’s eyes tracked the swing of gunfire raining bullets across the horizon. Tucker reloaded, crouched, dodged left and pivoted, another blast of bullet confetti launched through a gaggle of zombie heads. He tossed the magazine and reloaded. Click. Ching. Danny flinched when a zombie smashed a hammer clean through Tucker’s head.

 “God. Fucking…” Tucker pulled out of his hunch. He unclamped his fingers from his controller like bug legs unfurling. He extended the controller to Danny, bouncing it in his grip. “Your turn.”

“Huh?” Danny asked, as if he hadn’t been watching Tucker’s game the whole time.

“You. You’re up. I died.”

Danny accepted the controller, reloaded the screen, and jogged about a hundred feet forward before the first horde of zombies took him out football-style from the left. The death screen rolled.

“Oops,” Danny said.

“Not your best work.” And Tucker took the controller back. Tucker shot a few spare glances to Danny while the level restart loaded in. “Is it Vlad?”

“No. Well, yes,” Danny answered, flopping back into his normal position on the Foley attic armchair. Tucker’s mom had planned to toss it ages ago, before it became Danny’s chair. “But at least he left when my parents went all zombie mode into the basement.” Danny picked absently at the scabs of leather flaking from the armrest. “It was just weird.”

“I don’t mean this as an insult, but it’s definitely not the first time your dad’s gotten some math wrong,” Tucker said. “He blows up like three things a week doesn’t he?”

“He does. But he doesn’t care when he gets that math wrong. This one was like I broke something important.” Danny’s expression soured, and he picked a leather flake clean off the chair. “Vlad did, I mean.”

“Does any of the math actually work?” Sam offered from Tucker’s desk. She leaned an elbow around the back of his chair, head tilted to Danny. A pencil dangled from her loose fingers, nib-half worn to the History of an Invention report she was actually working on. Tucker had half-assed his earlier in the day about the palm pilot. Danny had not done his. “Like, it’s all crackpot theory, right? Do ghosts even follow math?”

“I think they follow some math. It’s not magic that makes the ecto-bazookas work, or the Fenton-phones work, or—well the thermos DIDN’T work—until I made it work.”

The unspoken thing Danny had been not-quite-saying hung in the air. He said it this time.

“So I’m wondering if I did it. Like the Fenton thermos. And now maybe they’re gonna do the math all over and realize the missing piece of the equation is one half-ghost son.”

“Well the order is backwards, for starters,” Sam said. “Thermos worked because you pumped ghost-energy into it. How would you have done that to the portal? You were human when you walked in.”

“Sam’s right. What do you think you brought to the table exactly? Button-slapping abilities?” Tucker loaded up the next level. “It was their portal, and their math, and it worked. There’s a million-billion kinds of math and they probably just forgot one thing.”

Tucker took a headshot and died. Mechanically, he handed the controller back to Danny.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Ask Vlad. He’s got a portal.”

“Like Vlad’s gonna tell me.”

“Just promise to be his diligent little son minion or whatever. He’s easy. Wait, let me do the next level. You know I like the cyberpunk levels.”

“It’s not your turn,” Danny said, reeling the controller just out of Tucker’s wiggling grasp.

“I’ll let you do two in a row for your next turn.”

Danny knocked Tucker away, distracted just long enough for a zombie cyberbeam to launch from the horizon and take him out through the head.

The screen washed sepia. Danny stared at it. You died.

…

Danny hadn’t really meant to stay the night at Tucker’s place. They’d just gotten really far in Man vs. Zombie, and Sam had gone home, and Danny was just resting his eyes between his turns with the controller.

So when he woke to the bright strip of sunlight beaming into his eyes through the attic skylight, his first thought was Fuck.

He was awake, here, morning, school. Fuck he had not actually done his History of Invention report, despite the stupid amount of grief it had already caused him this weekend. He pulled his face out of the armrest, now pineapple-patterned from the decaying leather, and pawed for his phone fallen on the floor. If it was still early enough, he could maybe still afford to desperately half-ass something before sixth period science.

He flipped his phone open. A text from Jazz. “Don’t come home. Make up an excuse.”

“…Fuck,” Danny whispered, through the sensation of his heart launching itself into his throat.

He scrambled upright, whole body shaking at the mercy of adrenaline shock so soon after being pulled from dead sleep. His mouth was dry, teeth unbrushed, wearing his old clothes from yesterday, report not done, Don’t come home, Don’t come home, Don’t come home.

They knew. He’d fucked it up. Somehow they knew. The math. Something. And it had to be with guns blazing, because Jazz would not send that text if they’d taken the “We accept you” angle.

Were they coming for him? On their way here? Tracking by his phone? Did they like Mrs. Foley enough to not SWAT-slam her against the wall when she opened the door for them so they could come capture the ghost pretending to be their son?

Fuck.

Danny was upright. Danny was standing. Danny was shaking. Danny wasn’t actually sure what the next thing was he was supposed to do.

Tucker’s ball of blankets rustled from the couch. “Mmph?” he asked, articulately.

“I have to. Go deal with my parents, I think,” Danny said, because any plan felt a little better than no plan. “I think they know.”  

Danny was a ghost. Danny was gone. Tucker sat upright, alone, blinking himself awake. He was staring at the You Died sepia screen still displayed on monitor, now burnt into the plasma of the tv.

…

Danny paused with his human hand slick on the Fenton front door. The gears in his mind turned as his plan quickly unraveled into no-plan. He had no plan, right? What was his plan? Handle this Man vs Zombie style—open the front door ready to dodge wide, because both zombies and parents liked to camp behind closed doors with bazookas at the ready?

“—absolutely absurd, and entirely unscientific, with no probability of being true. It goes against everything we know about neurology.”

Oh, Jazz. Was Jazz enough of a bazooka-deterrent? Probably not. Knowing his parents.

Danny turned the knob. His heart hammered. If bazookas, dodge left.

The first thing he noticed was in fact the no-bazookas. It was what he was most looking for. And so it was Jazz’s expression he did not notice until second—whites of her eyes wide, snapped to Danny, with a look that would be accusatory if worry hadn’t won that battle. Her cheeks were pale. Her hair was unbrushed.

He noticed his parents third. Compulsively, he rocked back onto his right foot, still outside the doorway, still outside the threshold of the Fenton family household.

Seeing his parents tired was of absolutely no shock-value to Danny. It was at least a twice-per-month tradition to see them haul themselves up from the basement sweaty and glaze-eyed at 7am, babbling excitement about some new ecto-spectral-hoozy-whatsits whose concept had shimmed into their minds at 8pm and now existed, fully operational, 11 nonstop hours later.

So it wasn’t the exhaustion on their face. It wasn’t the stagnant smell of sweat or the paleness of their faces or the stains on their clothes.

It was the way they looked at him. Like their whole world had fallen apart with his foot passing over the doorstep.

“Danny,” Jazz said, choked, a break in the silence. “Things are…! A little weird here. So maybe, if you wanna just get to school, I’ll finish clearing up—there’s a misunderstanding Mom and Dad have with their math. I am state finalist in Math League and have been studying college-level calculus in preparation for school applications so I’ve offered to help them fix their math, or prove to them—”

“Danny,” Maddie said, an echo of Jazz, but it felt worse. Danny scanned her hands for anything pointed enough to be a weapon. They were empty. “Danny can I just ask you something honestly, just quickly? Jazz is right. I’m just trying to clear up an issue with our math. And I won’t be mad. Whatever the answer is, I won’t be mad. I just want an honest answer.”

She stepped closer. Danny fought the urge to match her with a step backwards. Her eyes roved over him in a starved way, looking for something.

“Were you there when the portal turned on?” she asked.

“No, I wasn’t,” Danny answered. He wasn’t sure what to do with his face to make it look convincing. “It just. It needed some time to boot up, or something, right? That’s what you two said.”

“That was our guess ,but we don’t really know. The security tapes are wiped. We tried to make them EMF-resilient but a very, very strong blast of EMF could still corrupt them.”

“Yeah. I mean the portal’s gonna do that, right? When it turned on? Ripping open the Ghost Zone that’s—gotta be huge EMF.” Danny’s focus bounced between his mother’s eyes. “Just a guess. I really don’t know. I was in bed, already, whenever the portal started working.”

Left eye. Right eye. Why was she looking at him like that? Like she was sad. Was this part a trick? Make Danny let his guard down, go hey Mom need a hug? and that’s when the bazooka-whipping starts? It made his ribs feel scratchy. Stop looking at me like that.

“Have you felt anything weird at all, since the portal started working? Any gaps in your memory? Any parts of you that don’t feel right? Is there any part of you that feels like it’s changed in a way you can’t explain?”

She reached a hand out. Danny instinctively recoiled.

“Uh, yeah. They taught us about this in health class. They call it ‘puberty’ there.”

“Danny,” Jack said, and his voice was scratchy from disuse, from a long and uncharacteristic amount of time spent not speaking. “Did you die in the machine?”

A beat. A moment. Like when the zombie sends a hammer through your head.

“I’M alive!” Danny declared with a crack in his voice, with hands slammed to his chest. “Look at me. What are you talking about?”

“It’s the only math that works,” Jack continued, his words like chalk, his voice too dead. He looked too much at Danny. “If one of you two walked into the portal, and died in it. And I don’t think it was Jazz.”

This was bad. This was weird. Danny had ghost powers, sure. ‘They can’t kill me I’m already dead,’ was a funny joke sometimes. But it was funny as a joke. He was a ghost sham, really. A faker, a LARPer, whatever Tucker had called it. He was a human who was just kind of a freak now. More of a freak than he already was. He looked dead, for someone who was super-duper still alive.

He’d buried that worry, already. They weren’t allowed to bring it back.

“Look… at me!” Danny continued, mouth dry. He threw his arms wide. “Look how super alive I am! I’m awake! Using energy! Eating food and sleeping with my human body. I’ve got flesh and blood and bones and stuff! I’m not a ghost-expert but ghosts don’t have that.”

This was weird. This made Danny feel like something was scratching to get free from inside his rib cage. It twisted his entrails. Sure Tucker and Sam had thought he was dead, for those first horrible few minutes, but then he changed back to a human and the nightmare ended there. Jazz never called him dead. The ghosts called him freak and halfa and whelp, but never ‘one of them.’ That was his whole thing: being different from the ghosts who became ghosts by something so normal as dying.

He was not dead.

“If you died in the portal, your ghost wouldn’t have been ripped out of your body. It would have been allowed to stay, and then you’d be…” Jack hesitated. “I don’t know what you’d be, but you wouldn’t be alive.”

“Dad,” Jazz said, and she stood herself bodily between Danny and Jack. “What an absolutely messed up out-of-line thing to say to your son! You don’t know that! Dad you’re tired, and just because you weren’t able to solve your math problem in one night doesn’t mean you get to treat Danny like this! I said I’d help you with your math! Now apologize to Danny.”

Jazz looked over her shoulder to Danny, her expression falling at the sight of Danny’s face.

Danny backed up over the door threshold. He shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with this. This is weird. I’m gonna go to school now.”

“Danny, I promise they’re just—”

Danny turned on heel. No backpack, no change of clothes. He took to the street without a single school supply and moved, and moved.

It was supposed to be guns-blazing. Molecule by molecule. Headshot you died. He’d prepared for that this whole time, in the shower, in his dreams, in his daydreams in class. He’d duck and dodge and explain himself over and over until they understood him.

Danny wasn’t sure he was capable of explaining himself anymore.

…

Danny knocked the heavy iron knocker. He was in ghost form, as a threat. He wondered if he still smelled like yesterday’s sweat now that he wasn’t wearing yesterday’s clothes. Now he was wearing the clothes he died in.

No one answered the door. Danny phased himself in.

“Vlad!” he called, and his words echoed along the slope of the two elaborate winding staircases that twirled and met at the top like caduceus. Gold-plated banisters. A security camera buried somewhere in the ceiling, no doubt.

Danny phased into the library. His eyes roved the three stories of bookshelves wrapping the perimeter like a sheath. Gaudy. Audacious. Like Vlad would ever read that much. Danny racked his brain because some something in here was the secret to opening Vlad’s laboratory. Jazz had told him. Some gold something to be touched, and pressed down, or pushed up? Or it opened to a button. Or a keypad, maybe.

Danny spat a curse. He was being stupid. He was frazzled. He wasn’t thinking straight.

He dove into the floor below. Intangibility was the only key he needed.

The sheetrock was cold, even when he wasn’t touching it. The darkness was so piercing it made static jump in his vision, some weird trick of the brain Jazz had explained where, in the absence of all light, the brain hallucinates its own. It came with a sensation of pressure against his eyeballs, and a complete disorientation of direction, and he simply just kept going down.

Danny emerged into a wash of cold air. Cold like metal was cold. The low lights of dials and clicking machines were bright to his eyes previously dunked into the pitchest nothing. He drank it in, eyes grateful for light no matter how little, inner ear grateful for orientation that had left his head swimming and his stomach tight.

His feet tapped down to the stone ground, and the air that breezed past him was chilled.

“Vlad!” Danny called again.

Nothing.

He moved by the floor lighting, which ran in trim along the perimeter of the laboratory rooms. It lit things from beneath, made machines gaunt and specimens into sharp geometries of darkness and flesh. It made the Fenton lab feel warm in a way Danny had never considered it warm.

His feet clacked. His breath puffed.

“Vlad!”

He followed light, followed a wash of green miasma percolating from some far room and catching on the particulate of water and dust that disturbed with the air currents. Danny disturbed it too, walking through, wearing its shade of green which his shadow robbed from the wall behind him.

“Vlad. I swear to god Vlad.”

He crossed the threshold of the portal room, where the dusting of green ambience became a medallion wash of golden-green coating, painting every surface of the room. The Fenton lab was one single expansive room, portal anchored into the far wall and facing all the dead and empty air in front of it. This was different. A much smaller room, walled on all sides save for the simple doorway, and each surface reflected the color back deeper and heavier. It was like a fishtank in the wall of an aquarium lit radiant aqua-blue by all the lights within, but green instead, pure ecto-green.

Danny approached the open portal. He stared into its placid swirls, mesmerized, and scared of it, in a way he hadn’t previously felt about the portal in the Fenton basement.

“Ah, seems the cat is a good mouser after all, it dragged you in my boy.” The words came sing-song. They came spine-shivering for Danny, who felt them like hot breath on his shoulder and reeled back, pivoted, fire crackling to life in his palms.

Vlad stood at the doorway, a solid 20 steps from Danny.

“Vlad.”

“So I’ve been hearing.”

“I need you to explain the portal.”

“Ah, I see you’ve spoken to your parents.” Vlad stepped in, washed in the ecto-green which muddied his ruby red eyes. He held his hands behind his back, cape trailing, a smirk on his fanged face. “Last I heard they weren’t taking the news very well.”

“What news. What did you tell them?”

“Me? Nothing. In fact, very kindly for your sake I even tried to drive them away from the answer but… We know how stubborn your parents can be.”

“What answer?”

“That you’re dead, Daniel.”

Shock washed like ice down Danny’s spine. It sent prickles like spider legs across his skin.

“Well, I suppose there’s still chance for some doubt. It could be Jazz. She could take the fall for you, if there’s any benefit to that at all.”

“I’m a halfa. We are halfas,” Danny said.

“A silly made up word by a silly child,” Vlad mused, and the light smile left his lips. “We are dead.”

“I’m not dead,” and Danny’s words were small, and they were childish.

“You are. I am. Embrace it. It’s nicer this way.” Vlad took a few steps closer, lionously tall in his saunter, feet clacking the ground. “It’s very freeing. After you’ve died already what is there left to fear?”

“I’m alive.”

“You’re a dead body with its soul still stuffed inside it like a Christmas goose. A lot of things in your body don’t work anymore, but ghosts don’t work right anyway and it is, for all its defiance of nature, a perfectly symbiotic relationship.” Vlad’s smile brushed his lips again, warm. “It’s nice to share this with you. Isn’t it nice to share things with people?”

Danny’s heart was beating too fast in his chest, and it was a human heart, a human beat. “I’m not dead,” he declared.

“Your wounds heal quickly because the ghost piloting you only needs to remember form. It stacks cells back into place and calls it good. You’ll endure fatal injuries as you no doubt have many times in your fights, but they’re trivial because physical trauma is not what kills a ghost. It’s what creates one. You’ll necrotize in places but it’s okay, because you’ll carry on, and it will bother you only if you let it bother you, if you’re too sentimental about the puppet you’re still inside.” Vlad closed in closer, neck craning to appraise Danny. “Ghosts love a facsimile of life so you will keep your heart pumping, your lungs breathing. You’ll eat and you’ll sleep but you’ll find you won’t perish if you don’t. It just won’t be a good time if you want to keep occupying your flesh form. Take better care of it. You won’t get another.”

“You’re psychotic. And you’re wrong.”

“I have all the math to prove it.” Vlad leered from over Danny’s shoulder. He circled the boy, knocking Danny’s balance, who still on a hair trigger stood ready to fight. The light from the ghost portal painted Vlad’s face like the phases of the moon as he moved. “Did your parents explain that part to you properly?”

“No, because they didn’t get the math right.”

“Oh they’ve gotten it right. This time. It only took them two decades longer than it took me.” The portal rolled like static, and its fizzling pattern crashed like an ocean wave across Vlad’s cape. “No amount of man-made power is sufficient to drag the entire fabric of the Ghost Zone up against our own, tear a hole through it, and anchor it to a stable frame. It requires something with a pull on the Ghost Zone, a strong pull, and that thing is a human life at the moment of an extraordinarily violent death.”

Danny backed a step away from the portal, from Vlad, but the walls boxed him in. He swam in its green light.

“You stepped in and you turned the portal on, that’s what you thought, right, Daniel? Pressed a careless button on the inside and now here we are. Silly parents for not finding that button first.” Vlad’s face hardened. “No. Jack and Maddie knew about the button. Maddie explained it to me over the phone. What engineer designing and building their own portal would forget the location of the on button? They’d pressed it from the outside. It didn’t work. And so you pressing the button was not the important part. It was you dying to the electrocution that clicked everything right into place. And while your ghost should have been torn from your lifeless corpse and pulled to the Ghost Zone you instead pulled the Ghost Zone here. Your ghost got to stay put. You opened the portal. You became the undead freak you are. And now we’re here.”

Danny’s eyes bounced between Vlad’s. His cheeks felt hot, like he was enduring an accusation of wrongdoing. And he had none of the knowledge to refute what was being said.

“You’re messing with me. You’re wrong,” Danny shot back. He thrust an arm out, drenched in the fog of the portal. “If the portal needs a person to die in it then explain your portal! Are you so casual about it? You killed someone? You’re admitting to murder and you think I won’t do anything about it?”

Anger flashed like a storm across Vlad’s face. His aura swelled, pressing down with a pressure on Danny as Vlad halted and cast his shadow clear across Danny, coating the back wall. “The killing of other people with the wanton carelessness of half-baked machines is the domain of Jack and Jack alone. I’ve brought no such harm onto anyone else.”

“Then how do you have this portal?”

“This portal? This portal that I’ve had for 20 years? Which I opened when I solved the piece of Jack’s broken math that he was never able to solve until this morning?” Vlad stalked closer, hunched, imposing. Danny stepped back. “My boy Daniel you’ve had it so easy. You had it so simple. A truly clean break. So clean so lucky. A single lethal dose of electricity and it was already over. I’m jealous. You never even suffered.”

Vlad stepped closer, striking distance, arm extended. Danny flinched, but Vlad only swept his cape around, clenched in his fist, and pivoted to approach the portal.

“Put out of your misery before it even started.” Vlad slammed his fist against the portal rim, and the explosive metallic clang bounced through the rooms. His laugh belted out. “I should have been so lucky.”

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A sophomore in college. A man actively in the midst of sabotaging his social life to chase a woman who was already deeply in love with Vlad’s best friend who he hated more every day. He wasn’t sure what he ever enjoyed about Jack’s bumbling ineptitude, or his loudness, his brashness, his poor social skills, his bad breath, his mullet. Maybe Vlad had gravitated to Jack because deep down he loved how superior it made him feel to surround himself with the likes of Jack Fenton… And now, he hated how enraged it made him to watch Maddie’s eyes skip past his to focus on Jack Fucking Fenton again and again and again and again.

But surely there was hope still. Surely it was a matter of time before the rose-tinted glasses fell away and Maddie saw bumbling and inept and every such word in the basket when she looked at Jack. There’d come the day she tested the waters with Vlad to complain about one of Jack’s little quirks, and they’d find solace together in all the things Vlad was that Jack wasn’t, and all the things Vlad had that Jack didn’t. And he’d be gone, back to bumble elsewhere, and it would be just them.

The day didn’t come. It wouldn’t come. And maybe Vlad needed to change himself for Maddie. If he listened to her and Jack’s ghost ramblings, if he could put Jack in his place and solve the things Maddie couldn’t, it would show her. She’d understand.

Because that was the thing about Jack. His math was never right. Enduring Calculus 1 with Jack was all it took to prove this to Vlad. How many times he’d caught a single error on a single line for Jack, like a dropped stitch that would unravel the whole sweater. Every problem, without exception. Jack only passed on his homework grade with Vlad’s help. On his tests, he failed.

So Vlad was staring at Jack’s equation, full of bogus math, which Vlad knew was wrong because Jack had penned it, and Vlad had not yet fixed it himself.

“I’m telling you Jack, it won’t work.”

“Bogus V-man it totally will!”

It wouldn’t. But Vlad wouldn’t fix it for him. Not yet. Vlad would let Jack embarrass himself first, fully in front of Maddie, watching on, judging. Vlad would solve it for her. After. Once Jack had made a fool of himself for the hundredth time since college began.

He leaned in to study the portal frame. The gears were turning in his head already. He didn’t hear the whir of the power source catch.

…

19. Vlad Masters was 19. A tube ran down his nose and into his lungs, supplying oxygen for lungs which were failed by a diaphragm sloughing itself away. He was poisoned from the outside-in. Irradiated by ecto-energy none of the nurses or doctors could fully understand. It damaged his DNA. First obvious in the skin of his face where the blisters of his ecto-acne drained and sloughed. “Acne” was the wrong word. An unkind word. They were boils where the blast had cooked his skin, microwaved his cells. The skin on his body blackened over time. Organs decayed. Vlad Master read a lot about radiation sickness. He knew everything he had to expect.

Jack and Maddie had stopped visiting. They were dating now. It was on their last visit they’d told him, and Vlad hadn’t taken it well, and he’d perhaps burned a few bridges with the words he chose. It was deserved. Considering what Jack did to him.

He’d found the error in Jack’s math, by the way. Errors, but all the rest paled in impact compared to the lambda. The ecto-energy. The necessary ecto-potential to pull the Ghost Zone here. How stupid. How idiotic. For Vlad to die to a machine so botched in its construction.

When Vlad was released from the hospital, it was not because they’d cured him. It had been because there is a certain cruelty in making a 19-year-old live the last of his days bedded down in a white-walled room with just his books, his equations, and no one coming to visit anymore.

He was released with bedrest instructions. Vlad did not heed them. In his beater car, every cell of his body aching, he drove. At the materials lab, he disconnected his oxygen tank and moved through the lab space with the tube dangling loose from his nostril. No one was Vlad Masters’ friend. No one cared to stare long at his ugly boil-ridden face. No one stopped him as he hauled sheet metal, and supports, and bolts and wiring and resistors and power tools, checked out with a valid student ID, from the lab. The lab inventory room would not be seeing these back.

It was a prep bunker, buried beneath a vast lot of empty Wisconsin land, that Vlad hauled his materials. He and Jack had discovered it as freshmen. Poked through its bowels with flashlights and quipped and laughed over how eerie it was. Deep beneath the sheetrock, boxy rooms carved out of walls of stone. Shelf upon shelf of dusty canned foods, and shotguns sealed in cases fastened to the walls. The locks had rusted with water damage.

His arms ached until they throbbed, dragging beams of metal across the stone floor, scratching chalk-mark stains into the ground. His skin sloughed, inflamed, burning to the touch. Vlad didn’t bother to rest, because these injuries would never heal anyway. He hauled, and welded, and wired up his circuitry and resistors with a care and caution Jack would never have bothered to practice. He checked it against his math by flashlight. He took naps on the cold stone floor and woke with deep purple bruises on every part of his body that had pressed against the ground.

His appetite left him. His lungs filled with mucus. The boils on his face had spread down to his chest, his shoulders. The touch of his shirt chafed them, so he worked without one, a figure of skeletal rib ridges jutting from tight skin that bloomed with the projection of his shadow against stone walls.

He knew why Jack’s math was wrong.

A silly mistake. A stupid mistake. Anyone with half a mind for the paranormal should have realized the Ghost Zone was not so easily at your beck and call. Not without chumming the water with something it would rise to feast on.

And in that violent death, what would happen to the ghost? It would stay, wouldn’t it? If it successfully anchored the Ghost Zone to the portal it stood inside, then by definition the ghost would stay?

And was that death? Yes, in a way. But it was a death one would get to keep living. As opposed to the death Vlad was headed for, whose coldness and finality scared Vlad more than anything he could put to words.

He’d fixed the oxygen tank back to himself. He couldn’t work without it, hauling it about on a little dolly with him, back and forth, while he fetched and affixed the last of the plating he needed to craft the frame of his silent soulless portal.

He’d stolen a generator from the sports storage shed. It was meant to be enough to power the portable stadium lights they hauled onto the fields for late games, an absolute obelisk meant to cast light across an entire football field.

Surely, it contained enough power to kill one simple human.

Vlad fixed the last bolt in place. Jumper cables clamped generator to portal wiring. It was a pure skeleton. A paltry thing, like the bones of something already picked clean. Built in haste, sloppy, by a 19-year-old whose fingers were too inflamed to clutch a wrench any longer.

He could have asked Jack for help. Maddie. But he wouldn’t let them have this. They had to solve the portal on their own. They didn’t get to know his hard work. They did not get to save him.

Vlad would save himself.

A ghost anchored to a body. What was that? What monster was that?

Vlad moved. He coughed mucus from his lungs. It made it hard to breathe. So he moved slowly, and crouched, bony jutting angles, painted blotchy purple, all bruises and skin, sloughing away.

He crouched, because the portal he’d constructed was not large enough to hold him standing up. He bowed inside it, a small thing, a pathetic man of little life. He wheezed. He hurt. His eyes burned.

And he held in his hands the remote to flip the generator switch, and connect the circuit, and bring to life the math Vlad had so kindly corrected out from under Jack’s grip.

Vlad did not. Because throwing the switch would kill him.

Deep in his animal brain, his dying brain, he knew this intimately. It filled him with a drowning fear like paralysis. He did not want to die.

He would die if he did nothing.

It would be this one throwing of the switch which could save him. Which would burst the portal to life right through his heart. Electrocute it out of its rhythm, slaughter him like a pig on spot and… maybe… hopefully… drag the Ghost Zone here. And whatever he was, dead, would stay.

And whatever he was, dead, would be better than this.

Vlad held the remote in his clammy hands.

And from within the humming skeleton of his portal, his fingers caressed the on button.

…

The portal sung its happy contentment, mused in its healthy green aura, staining all the slabs of rock wall. Danny swiveled his head, recognizing now the bunker this had been before it had been a laboratory.

“I’ve harmed no one, Daniel,” Vlad concluded, his voice too measured for the horrors it had spilled forth. Too calm against the blossoming terror its words had wrought across Danny’s face. “I opened the portal to save myself. You’re lucky, Daniel. It was because of my fast thinking that your father is not a murderer. I took that honor from him.” Vlad’s head tilted to the side, suddenly sympathetic. “Although, you’ve maybe made the title whole for him.”

Vlad reached out, Danny shot away.

“Dad didn’t kill me,” he choked. “I did this to myself.”

“How lucky Jack is, to always dodge responsibility for his actions.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Of course you don’t. If you believed me, you’d have to accept you’re not wriggling out of this. There’s no denial you can bring home to your parents. If you believe me, then this is reality.” Vlad smiled, a playful glint to his fangs. “I suppose I should have more sympathy. I quite like being this way. It is so much nicer than wasting away to death, like I was. But you. You were healthy before this. This killed you, and it didn’t save you from anything.” Vlad cocked his head. “Such tragic fates, both of us, due to the carelessness of Jack Fenton.”

Danny shook his head. His heart beat—his human heart beat—all too fast in his throat. It made him sick. It made him feel like the walls were closing in around him. This was Vlad’s doing. Vlad’s trap. Vlad’s prison he’d been forced to join.

"That's not true. I'm not like you."

“Of course not,” Vlad said, sweetly. “How sweet denial is. Deny it if you like. Call me a liar. But if you ever want to come to terms with what your father did to you, consider coming to me. I understand you in a way no one else will.”

Danny gave no response. He gave no acknowledgement of Vlad’s words. He took to the air, phased himself up through the sheetrock that had been packed atop the doomsday prepper bunker. Up through the mansion, which had been built atop the portal beneath it, and not the other way around. Into the open sky, he breathed fresh air not stagnant and damp beneath the ground, bathed in light pure white from the sun and not tainted green like the bowels underneath him.

And he flew back toward the portal that made him, leaving Vlad with the portal from which he’d made himself.

...

(inspiration post from @ciestess)

[leisureflame]

"I CANT THINK"

If you write, I assure you you have thought that.

Fear no more child, for I have found a solution.

it's called Rapid writing

something we learned when I was in 9th grade drama class and I cannot emphasize enough just how effective it is. Its actually what gave me the idea for my first book.

Stop what you are doing and do what I tell you

go grab either a pencil and paper (or open an empty document)

set a timer for 2 minutes

ask a friend to give you a random sentence. I have a few examples that I myself rapid wrote to: a) I looked around and saw b) the old lady hung from the ceiling and laughed c) purple paint dripped from her long purple fingernails d) there is a hole in my ceiling. e) when I am sad I... f) When you close the door, I... g) there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob

Now the most important thing is not to think of this sentence before you start writing. as soon as you decide which one if you are choosing from my examples (or as soon as you hear it if you are getting if from a friend), start the timer.

start writing the sentence and without hesitating just keep writing. the #1 rule here is to not stop or hesitate for a single second until the 2 minutes are over. you can write nonsense if you want and if you REALLY can't continue then write some random words for a couple of seconds then continue AS LONG AS YOU ARE STILL WRITING.

another rule is that you are not allowed to delete. even if its a spelling error, just ignore it.

after the timer is done, I promise you will have something to work with. now copy the paragraph you wrote and paste it below, here you can start fixing spelling errors and adding things at your own pace because now the creative side of your brain has opened.

don't think about the way you are writing or the words you use, think about the story you are telling. the idea.

Sometimes you will get something beautiful and deep like I did here:

When I am sad I go to my blanket, not many people know about it, all they think is happening is that a child likes to cuddle in a blanket, but no. my blanket has a special thing about it, it is a magical blanket, well, not the blanket itself but the embroidery on the blanket, it simply takes my sadness away but it adds the story of my emotions to the embroidery, my blanket is a very pretty one, it is a pastel blue color and it has so much silk embroideries that you just think its patterns, but it isn't, if you look deeper you will find stories every one of those stories came from someones tears... my tears. whenever i cry, i wipe my tears with my blanket and my pain goes but my story stays.

or

there is a wooden door with a gold doorknob on the door there is a painting of you, and there are many locks on the door from top to bottom, when you open the door, there is a mirror. this door is the door to self discovery, from the outside there is a painting of how people think you look like but when you open the door, you get to see what you really are in detail and look at yourself they way you want to, you can smile or cry and the refection on the mirror will change but on the painting, it doesn't show ur emotions, just how people see you usually.

or you can get something so stupid like i did here:

there is a hole in the ceiling in my classroom. everyday a dinosaur would a pear and eat my lunch and i keep coming home hungry but my mom dsays she packed me enough food. so she didn't feed me. i told her a dinasour was eating my lunch but she said that disasours only live in Norway! so i went into the school vents looking for that idino and revenge my food, we met at last, held our weapons, i was holding a subway sandwich and the dino was holding a bana na MY BANANA  i lost it, so i attacked him one hit on the head and the whole species were extinct , people thousand of years from now said dinos got extinct because of a meteorite but i know better, also i am still alive because whoever kills a dino becomes immortal, also i killed my mom for not believing me and let her starve in her grave just like she let made me starve. and then i killed everyone who was a flat earther because i hate them and now i can kill anyone once i tap them with my super subway sandwich 

(by the way, ignore the horrible spelling, the examples i gave were from the unedited version.)

THE POINT IS ITS ACTUALLY SO HELPFUL. you can use it for a new story idea (i used the blanket one as an element in one of my WIPs and it helped the story a lot) or if you get something stupid like the dino one I wrote THATS GOOD THATS FINE because now you have your creativity going.

I challenge you to actually try this and PLEASE share it with me I LOVE reading other peoples rapid writings. have fun <3

tagging @cosmosandcapybaras24 @ajsbookshelf @gloryofdawn, @chaoticharmony93 @deception-united and anyone else who's interested to try this out and share with me!

[softtdaisy]

🌲 a found family l max verstappen

summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.

words count. 2,596

a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it. 

And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.

He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift. 

Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.

“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours. 

He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart. 

“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?” 

“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.” 

This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan. 

From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.

Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?

“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?” 

“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.

Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did. 

That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.

And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.

“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.

For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.

But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.

“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.” 

“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.

“Yep. You’re happy.” 

Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”

It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.

“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.” 

Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.

If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile. 

“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.

Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment. 

At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.

Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.

“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.

“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”

Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.

“A woman is always a burden in a career.” 

“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.” 

“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.

Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”

He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.

Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.

But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.

“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval. 

Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve. 

“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.” 

Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.

Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.” 

The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved. 

And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.

When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.

“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.

That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.

So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.

You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.

“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!” 

You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him. 

But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.

All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member. 

It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had. 

“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.

You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own. 

But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”

You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied. 

And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.

[lxvebun]

silent confessions

synopsis: the genshin men crushing on you and the little ways they show they care.

content: Kaeya/Venti/Alhaitham/ Arataki Itto x gender neutral reader. First time writing for venti so apologies if its a lil off. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Kissing in kaeya's. wingman diluc honestly. Going a lil feral in alhaithams and ittos. Use of nickname dear and cecilia<3 They are all quite long but I hope you all enjoy it! Not completely proofread. Let me know if there are any annoying mistakes!

⁎⁺˳✧༚ Kaeya໒꒱.*

Diluc is sure of three things. One, You're hands down single-handedly keeping the icedtea business alive in Mondstadt, his arms are still hurting from the heavy crates of imported tea from Liyue he has to carry every. Single. Week. Two, you're incredibly oblivious, three, kaeya is a lovesick fool.

Even though diluc has offered to deliver some iced tea crates to your home, it seems that you prefer to drink his stash empty at the bar next to kaeya.

It's making him ill really, seeing the way his brothers eyes keep drifting to your lips and how his hands inch closer to yours, still never really touching. Diluc almost doesn't recognize him. Kaeya is not the type to get flustered easily, if anything, try to make him flustered and it will backfire! but here he is, for hours sitting at the bar head leaning on his hands staring at you like you hung the stars.

You fail to notice how, despite not touching your drink for so long, at one point even dancing around the tavern when the bard played your favorite song, the icecubes in your glass never seem to melt and the tea never gets warm. It's the least he can do, Kaeya would be showing you more grand gestures of love if you didnt make his head fog up with hearts and flowers everytime your near.

"I'm going to use the bathroom, i'll be right back! "You say as you hop of the barstool and make your way to the second floor.

"This, is getting sad you know", diluc speaks as he snatches both yours and Kaeya's glass away, dodging quick enough as Kaeya tries to get it back

"Oh i'm sorry, I didn't know my love life was such an interesting show to you. I'll make sure to tell the writers"

Stupid arrogant oblivious brother of his

He's not gentle as he grabs one of the big pints, pours your favorite iced tea in with the ice cubes and slices of lemon and two straws this time and places it down infront of kaeya.

"I'm doing you a favor icicle"

Kaeya's unable to retort a remark back because you're sitting down next to him again.

"Ooh whats this, luc?" As you stir the tea with your straw, the ice cubes gently clinking against the edges of the glass

"On the house, it's the last"-he throws you a look- bit of icetea I have for tonight. Enjoy." And with that he steps out the backdoor for a break leaving you and kaeya in an almost empty tavern

He's feeling uncharacteristically shy sharing a drink like this. He's not sure he can contain the love confession thats lingering on his lips if you're that close to eachother. You snap him out of his thoughts before he can even try.

"Come on try this with me...its...its quite romantic don't you think" you say, a little timid

Youre killing him. Hes deceased y/n.

"Yeah, didn't- didnt realise Diluc had a romantic bone in him, guess it runs in the family after all"

You're not sure where you got the courage from for what you're about to say

"Maybe, we should do more of these romantic things together."

And just like that, knowing you shared his feelings, he got a bit of his charming wit back.

"My dear y/n- he starts, leaning down closer to you, one icy hand holding yours. Are you asking me out on a date" he wants to revel in making you flustered but he's pretty sure he looks just as flustered as you do.

"Only if you want to, Kaeya"

The way he presses his lips to yours gives you the answer you needed<3

Venti, alhaitham and itto under the cut!

⁎⁺˳✧༚ Venti໒꒱.*

Archons, the summer this time around is way hotter than any summers before. It's scorching outside and if it weren't for your knight of favonius duties, duties you took over for the Cavalry Captain for his day off (>:( ), you would stay inside the cool headquarters, in your little office with the curtains closed.

You really should get going but you're delaying stepping outside. The favonius headquarters is nice and cool and and looking outside you can see the heat radiating from the stone pathways

You're a knight of favonius! A little sunshine isn't going to hurt! You try to hype yourself up as you make it to the entrance. You can do this, who knows, you might even get a tan.

Bracing yourself and pushing the heavy doors open, you're pleasantly surprised at how the wind immediately seems to pick up and twirl and flow around you in cooling circles. Yes, the sun is still beaming down in all his glory, but the breeze definitely helps. You may even get through this without breaking too much of a sweat.

As you're doing your errands and run basically all over Mondstadt, the gentle breeze surrounding you never seems to falter, even now, as you carry heavy crates of sunsettias and apples up the stairs to Good Hunter, it actually seems like the wind has started to pick up, aiding you in its own way.

Sara is more than grateful as you place the crates down in the back for her. "You're a lifesaver y/n, please, go sit down and i'll whip something up for you".

Who are you to deny a break and a free meal?

Before you sit down you take off your sword and place it down next to you so you can completely unwind. It's not until you look back up from your weapon that you see Venti, with the bright smile he always seems to carry, sitting infront of you

"Hi, my sweet cecilia"

Archons, that nickname. You're lucky you can blame the weather on the sudden warmth flowing through your body.

"You're awfully happy for such a hot day, Venti"

He doesn't provide an answer to that, why is he so happy? Because he's with you of course, he's basically been spending the whole day with you, how could he not be happy?

instead of saying that tho he says "the wind is nice, hmm?" And On cue the wind stars to pick up again, now carrying the scent of the meal Sara is cooking up for you and twirling a few flower petals that got caught in it around you You little

"Yeah it is, i'm not sure I would have been able to get through the day without a little breeze in my face" you laugh and it's the sweetest melody he's ever heard.

"I guess the anemo archon has a soft spot for me"

"I suppose he does"

You fail to catch the longing glint in his eyes and the blush covering his cheeks as Sara brings you your meal<3

Oh my dear y/n if only you knew.

⁎⁺˳✧༚ Alhaitham໒꒱.*

It's not until Kaveh points it out, after Alhaitham leaves to pick up another book from the House of Daena library shelves, that you realize it, but it seems that Alhaitham, despite looking like he wants to be anywhere but here, always seems to look out for you.

Like the time he dragged you to the desert to study runes with him, he made sure every time you two stood still for a long time, he'd raise his cape a little above your head, sheltering you from the burning sun

And that one time where he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his side when some drunkards stumbling home almost bumped into you

"Drop your pen when he gets back" kaveh says, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Drop my-"

"Sshh, just do it" he hushes quickly and goes back to drawing as Alhaitham sits back down next to you with a new book in his hand.

You let Alhaitham read a few more pages before you "accidentally" drop your pen under the table, sliding your seat back and ducking under to retrieve it, when you look back up to avoid hitting your head on the corner of the table, Alhaithams hand is already covering it. His gaze is still as focused as ever on the book infront of him, it's almost like it happened entirely subconsciously, like it was already engraved in his perception to look out for you and that alone made the butterlies in your tummy flutter around. You don't miss the "I told you so" gaze Kaveh throws at you.

Alhaithams book manages to hide the gentle smile he failed to hold back as he guesses from the look on your face and body language that you're onto him, and if he can guess one more time, he'd say the feelings are mutual.

He doesn't say anything but he does reach under you to grab the leg of your chair and pull you closer to him, arm draped behind you over the backrest, gently drawing shapes on your shoulder as he continues to read his book

*Did ya'll see that one nick jonas clip where he pulls her chair closer? Yeah? Thats alhaitham.

⁎⁺˳✧༚ Arataki Itto໒꒱.*

The locals of Inazuma are used to the never ending thundering and lightning. Even on clear days, it seems like you can always hear it lurking in the distance, dancing over the seas. Unfortunately for you, you’re not a local and despite having been here for a while, long enough to develop strong friendships and perhaps a little crush <3 the loud claps of thunder and the lightning that cracks open the clouds still make you flinch

You were embarrassed about it, so you never voiced it out to your friends. You would just try to hide your flinches and do your best to block out the noise. You're not doing that very well unfortunately. Itto has noticed, and boy does it make his heart hurt a little every time he catches you trying to hide it. You're part of the gang! Whether you know  that or not, you're supposed to be able to tell him these things! but he understands, you seem to think that you're going to look weak in front of Arataki numero uno claymore swinging devil beatbox and beetle fighting legend Itto. He made me write this really You could never considering he gets weak in the knees everytime you make eye contact or touch his horns

So as the leader of your gang, your best friend and hopefully future boyfriend, he’s gonna help you because If there's one thing Itto is good at its being loud. It’s quite hard to hear the thunder lurking in the background when Itto's boisterous laugh as he’s "winning" a game of TCG seems to overpower everything, including the way your heart beats a little faster when he smiles at you.

You didn’t notice what he was doing until there was a summer storm forecasted. You didn't even have time to mentally prepare yourself for it before there was a harsh knocking at your door, maybe a bit to hard itto pls dont break the door

"Open up sunshine, I have some snacks :D"

He’s quick to make himself comfortable as you let him in, throwing the impressive amount of snacks and some card games on the coffee table and then taking up half the space on the couch, being careful to not knock the lamp on the sidetable down with his horns.

"Not that I mind Itto, but i didn't expect you to come over. Any reasons?"

"Yeah you're"- he cuts himself off. You never told him about your fear of thunder, would it upset you if you knew he figured it out?, archons he didnt think of an excuse what should he say, where is Kuki in times like this

"Yeah, I just thought i’d keep you some company because I AM afraid of summerstorms, yup, totally terrifying, so scary,so here i am."

Even he knows it's not believable. Especially since he has directed some...colorful words with the shogun before (not in her presence)

You are afraid”-

AND AND I thought, you know, maybe, since were all going to be locked up in our houses anyway we could have a little at home date......:D

Archons, Itto, if the storm isn't going to kill you its him. He's been aware of your fear and silently tried to help you with it? And now he has basically slipped a confession in trying to hide the fact he knows about your fear? He's such a teddybear fr

You don't fight the smile that's pulling at the corners of your mouth as you sit down next to him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek and pretending not to notice the hitch in his breath "Thank you, Itto"

Thank you for reading angels!<3

[shockercoco]

An Honorary Member

Benny Cross x reader

Warnings - fluff, unwanted advances (like one), some swear words

Word count - 2768

a/n -  request: "please please PLEASE do something ANYTHING for benny cross x reader but reader is a sweetheart and is kinda just a goody two shoes..." read the rest of the request here. It's funny how many of your guys wanted this, and of course I had to deliver. I really enjoyed writing this and hopefully this meets your expectations. enjoy :)

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m coming?” you ask Kathy as she finds a spot on the crowded grass to park.

You look down at your baby pink top, jeans, and white shoes, beginning to second guess your outfit choice. Despite your outfit being basic, you still felt odd amongst all the leather and dark colors. Even Kathy wasn’t wearing anything bright.

“Of course it is. These people don’t care,” Kathy tells as she puts the car in park. “Plus, if it was a problem, Benny wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

Benny loved your outfits. He thought it made you stand out next to him, and he loved that.

“You and I both know he would’ve still invited me if it even if it was a problem,” you point out, causing her to laugh in response.

“Besides you haven’t been around the girls in a while and they're looking forward to seeing you again,” Kathy says.

All the commotion outside could still be heard loud and clear even through the closed windows. You knew about the people Kathy and Benny hung out with and their well known reputation – she was technically the one who introduced you to Benny.

It also wasn’t uncommon for you to see members of the club riding through the streets whenever you were out in public running errands, but you’ve never actually met them. Dating Benny and being friends with some of the guys’ girlfriends was the closest you have gotten to this world. Benny thought it was finally time you meet the club and he thought this outing was the perfect opportunity.

Kathy could see the look of uncertainty on your face as you looked down. “You look fine, don’t worry about it too much. These guys practically wear the same thing all the time, so who are they to judge? Now get the hell out of my car.”

Making sure to grab your homemade cookies from the backseat, you both start heading towards the group. It was your idea to bring the cookies, thinking that it would make it easier for the guys to like you if you brought something to offer. You kind of went overboard and made way too many, though.

As the two of you walk to the table where the girls are, you spot Benny at another table having a smoke and talking to some of the other members.

“You actually came,” one of the girls, whose name you unfortunately forgot, smiled. She jumps up to give you a hug, before taking the cookie-filled container out of your hands, “And you brought goodies.” 

“You would go straight for the food,” Kathy jokes as the girl sits down, allowing others to reach their hand into the container.

The girl shrugs. “Her cookies are the best.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you,” Gail, whose name you do remember, tells you. You go to sit down next to her, while Kathy sits across from you. “You should come riding with us one time.”

“You ride?” you ask her, your eyebrows raised.

“Well, no not me, but my boyfriend does,” Gail says.

You turn your head as she nods in what you're assuming is her boyfriend’s general direction, but all you notice is Benny walking towards the table.

Benny had noticed your arrival, but Johnny kept running his mouth and he couldn’t find the right time to get away. He eventually just decided to get up and leave because there was no telling if the conversation would ever end, and as of now you were more important to him.

When Benny had first met you it was outside of a bar that basically belonged to the Vandals. You were only there to drop off some money for Kathy for whatever reason because she couldn’t seem to get away.

You were hesitant at first because one: it was the middle of the night, and two: you would be going to a place where all the bikeriders hung out. A bar and a bunch of crazy men didn’t seem like the best combination and you didn’t even understand why Kathy would always go to such a place, but nevertheless she was your best friend, so you felt obligated to go.

You had barely entered the bar when Kathy had come running up to you and thanking you. You were about to tell her it was no problem – even though it most definitely was – but you got distracted by this man coming up behind her.

The tattoos and the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips should’ve been a turn off for you, but you couldn’t help but feel attracted to him. The hair, the way he walked, and the look in his eye just screamed confidence, and you found yourself not being able to look away from him. He gave you a smirk when his eyes found yours, and you immediately looked away as you felt embarrassment flow through your body. 

Yeah, you definitely had to leave.

“Did you want to stay for a drink?” Kathy asked you, breaking you from your thoughts.

“What? Oh, no I should get going. It’s late an–”

“Who’s this?” the man asks Kathy as he approaches the two of you, interrupting your sentence. He removes the cigarette from his mouth and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“This is my best friend,” Kathy looks up at him, “and she’s off limits.”

The guy laughs at her statement. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” he asks her, but he’s looking at you. 

Kathy sighs as she rolls her eyes. “This is Benny,” she tells you before looking back at him, “but it doesn’t really matter because you’re leaving, aren’t you Benny.”

Well if Kathy doesn’t seem to like him, then neither should you. Right?

“Loosen up, Kathy.”

Kathy’s about to say something else, but someone calls her name. She looks behind her before looking back at you Benny. She hesitates for a second before sending Benny a glare and walking away.

“Isn’t it a little late for you to be out by yourself?” Benny asks, looking down at you and giving you this look. A look that gives you butterflies and makes you want to smile, but you resist. His gaze is intense.

“Yes, which is why I’m going home,” you tell him.

“Do you need a ride, I’m on my way out,” he raises an eyebrow. 

“No thanks, I drove here,” you answer.

“Hmm. Well I guess I’ll see you around then,” he smiles. He’s not asking, but telling you.

“I guess so,” you say. 

You don’t know if you’re waiting for him to leave or if he’s waiting on you to make a move first, but you both just stand there for a moment. You don’t know if it’s an awkward or comfortable silence between the two of you, but you can’t handle his eyes on you anymore.

Benny watches you give him a small smile before turning around and exiting the bar. He smiles to himself as he follows you out the door, taking his cigarette and lighter out of his pocket. He watches as you get into the car you parked on the side of the street and drive off, still looking down the street, even when you’re no longer in eyesight.

You were different from him, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or bad thing, but he had to find out. You seemed so gentle and shy, unlike all the other girls that hang around at the bar. Benny felt drawn to you, even though the two of you had only talked for a couple of minutes. The fact that Kathy didn’t want him around  you only egged him on more.

He had to have you.

As you’re having a cup of coffee the next morning, you decide to look out one of your living room windows – something you always do. This time when you move the curtain aside, you almost drop the cup in your hand when you see Benny across the street. He’s leaning against his bike having a cigarette, and you’re wondering how the hell he found you.

And how long has he been out there?

You set your cup down on your living room table before opening the front door. Benny notices the door open and just smirks when he sees you walking down your front steps. He gets up from his position on the bike and walks towards you, flicking his cigarette on the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him once you reach the bottom of your steps, and Benny is standing on the sidewalk. You wrap your sweater tighter around your body as the morning breeze blows past you.

You give him a once-over now that he’s standing in front of you and man does he look good. Why does he look so good? 

“Kathy gave me your address,” he tells you casually.

Your eyes nearly pop out of their head because that is so unlike her. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he nods with amusement, “but don’t be mad at her, I kind of forced it out of her.”

“And you’re here because…?”

“Because I wanted to see you again. I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he tells you. Your heart drops and have to keep your jaw from hanging open because there’s no way.

You wait a second before asking, “How many girls have you said that too?” 

“One,” he smiles at you as he slowly walks towards you. “You.”

That was five weeks ago. You shouldn’t have fallen for that cheesy line, but you did, which is how you now find yourself at this picnic.

“Glad my girl came,” he whispers in your ear as he takes a seat next to you. He smirks as he notices goosebumps popping up along your arm.

“You two make me sick,” Kathy says, but there’s no animosity in her voice. She can’t help but smile as she looks between you and Benny because she’s never seen him like this. Before you, she’s never seen him so…in love. It’s obvious that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Some of the other girls around the table have smiles across their faces too as they witness the interaction too because they can also see the difference in Benny.

“Come on, I want you to meet some of the guys,” he tells you and you nod. He grabs your hand in his as he walks you towards the group of guys he had been talking to when you arrived, feeling kind of nervous as you see all of their eyes on you.

As you approach, one of the older men looks down at your hand connected with his and a grin slowly grows on his lips. He’s sitting at the table while the rest of them either stand around it, or sit on the table top.

“So this is your girl huh, the one you’ve been hiding from us?” the same guy asks.

Benny rolls his eyes. “This is Johnny, he’s in charge of the club.”

“Damn right I am, but that’s not important. It’s nice to finally meet you, sweetheart,” Johnny says as he leans forward and holds his hand out for you to shake. You give him a small smile as you accept his hand.

“We’re here too,” another guy says.

“That’s Cockroach,” Johnny tells you before introducing the rest of them, and pointing out some of the others that are walking around. “And this is Danny, he’s not like everyone else. He’s writing some kind of story or somethin’.”

You turn around to see a guy with a camera hanging around his neck approaching the group, a half eaten cookie in his hand. “Someone made cookies, you guys gotta try them.”

“And you didn’t bring us any? Not cool man,” Cal says.

“Didn’t you make those?” Benny looks down at you, nodding his head towards Danny’s hand.

“Um, yeah.”

“You bake?” Cockroach asks, and you nod.

“Well hand them over so we can try it before they’re all gone,” Johnny says, and you give him a nod before heading back towards the table where the cookies are.

As you’re walking, some drunk guy stumbles his way in front of you, almost bumping into you. Thinking nothing of it since a lot of the men around are wasted, you ignore him and try to go around him. The man doesn’t let you move far though as he grabs your arm and gives you a sly smile. Your face contorts in disgust and you try to jerk your arm away, but his grip is too tight.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, little lady. What’s your name?” he slurs, the smell of alcohol filling your nostrils.

“None of your business,” you tell him. You try to pull your arm away again, but the man’s grip only gets tighter. Your heartbeat picks up as you begin to panic, but there’s too many people around so nothing can happen. Right?

“I like your shirt,” he gives the bottom of your shirt a little tug.

“Stop,” you smack his hand away.

“Come on, don’t be like that, gorgeous. I’m just trying to be nice, the least you could do is tell me your name,” the man steps closer, getting into your face.

“Let me go,” you say sternly, once again trying to move.

“I think you need to be taught some manners,” the man glares at you.

From behind you, Benny sees the altercation going down and begins to come to your aid, but you do something that makes him stop in his tracks.

You smack the man hard, making his head turn to the side. His hand immediately lets go of you to reach up and touch his cheek, the handprint already starting to show.

A few people around who witnessed the scene gasp and laugh. A few whistles and hollers join in.

“You bitch,” he says, his nostrils flaring.

“I guess we both need to be taught some manners,” you spit, no longer feeling shy since there are too many eyes on him.

Apparently, the man notices the stares too because he backs off, but not without giving you one last look.

“Well damn,” Cockroach says amongst the group.

“Got yourself a good one, Benny,” Johnny chuckles, his head falling back. That makes Benny’s heart swell with pride.

“Remind me not to piss her off,” Cal says, his eyes wide.

Kathy comes up to check on you, but you tell her you’re okay. When you come back to the group with the container in your hand, everyone’s looking at you with grins covering their face. Benny shoots you a wink, making your face heat up.

“These aren’t bad at all, you gotta bring these to all the meetings,” Johnny says after taking a bite of his cookie, the guys nodding in agreement.

Now, you don’t know what you were thinking, but the idea of attending meetings hadn’t crossed your mind at all.

You should’ve known because a couple of days later when the club meets at the bar again, you’re right there with them, a few containers of baked goods in your hand. The men don’t waste their time rushing towards you when you first step foot in the bar, making Benny shove his way through the crowd to make sure you don’t get crushed. Surprisingly, though, you don’t mind at all.

“You better wait your turn,” one guy tells another who’s trying to cut in front of him.

“Fuck off,” the man answers and shoves the guy aside.

Benny grabs them both by the neck of their jackets and pulls them back.

“Gentlemen, please, let’s not act like animals,” Johnny calls out.

Word gets out about how good your baking is – and your altercation with that drunk man – causing the bikers to have respect for you. Whenever you need something and Benny’s not around, there’s always someone that volunteers.

If you need a ride to work because your car broke down and Benny’s not able to pick you up, Johnny’s waiting right outside your door. If for some reason, someone dares to shoot their shot at you, it doesn’t take long for the person to get thrown out of the bar. And when you get cold, several of the bikers offer their jackets to you, only for Benny to quickly throw his jacket over your shoulders.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[wonysugar]

My mind keeps imagining g!p wony x sub reader x g!p Karina, like🤭🤭 Both of them having unnie kink and breeding kink? USGSIAHAIAHAYA the woman they are😩

taking this as old ass ask as an opportunity to write some drabbles for you guys while i finish up my draftss cause i know that you guys are starving rn😭i’m so sorry for the longg wait, i promise i’m trying my hardest to get them done as fast as i can, please bare with me🙏

cw!! g!p, breeding kink, unnie kink, free-use, college au

so uhm they’re both hung. SORRY, I SAID IT… THEY’RE BOTH HUNG SUE ME LITERALLY SUEE MEEE!

now.. g!p wonyoung has basically all of us here on a chokehold, that much is obvious! however, i don’t think i’ve ever talked about g!p jimin on here? WEYLPP YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANSS THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHINGGG~~

so what is the deal with these two? well i’ll tell you what; losers, the both of them, two actual massive fawking nerds!! they will always be caught at the library studying for mid terms,, either that or they’re in their dorm playing overwatch and valorant all day long😭😭losers trapped in hot bodies i fear

jimin and wonyoung considered you a friend ever since you asked the two of them to help you study the material, since their grades are practically outrageous.. so yeah you guys are just overall suuuuper chill and gawsh they just really appreciate your presence altogether it’s all happy and jolly! they’re a year above you, which probably explains the giggly and jittery reaction they both get when you call them your unnies… they can’t help but to baby you all the time!

some day, they innocently invite you over to their dorm, yknow just asking to order food and study together and whatnot, perhaps getting on val afterwards for shits and giggles.. you accept, of course, because why would you pass up an opportunity to improve your grades with two of the best students in your program, let alone a hang out between friends?

when you do get there, the dorm is clean and tidy, just as you’d expect from such model students. you do end up studying for about an hour and a half, that is until wonyoung suggests taking a break, wearing a warm smile as she adjusts her glasses.

“why don’t we stop for a little bit, hm?” she says, closing the book in front of you as she throws quick glances at jimin, they seem innocent enough, so you paid no mind to those.

jimin only nodded, liking the idea and gently putting her hand on your arm, “it is indeed very important to regularly take breaks when studying. plus, you’ve worked hard today, don’t you think, baby?”

in a usual situation, you wouldn’t be at all fazed by the pet name she used, since the two girls basically call you that every chance they get. however, you don’t know if it was jimin’s hand caressing your arm at that moment or the way that wonyoung was staring at your eyes that made you especially nervous, perhaps it was both, but you nodded to her words regardless.

she was right, after all, breaks are very necessary to a productive study session.

however, you quickly grasped that the ‘break’ in question would last much, much longer than you expected when jimin’s lips were suddenly trailing kisses down your neck whilst wonyoung caressed your hair.

“unnie—“ you reached out for her hand, more and more adrenaline rushing through your body with each kiss that jimin left on your soft skin.

and because that honorific just drives the both of them FAWKING crazy, “your unnies will take good care of you, okay sweetheart?” is what she’d softly say, smiling. you’d nod, entranced, before feeling her soft lips on yours. you knew there was no turning back when they eventually grabbed your two hands and made you feel their visible and poking hard-ons, which got you embarrassingly riled up to a great extent.

the rest is history, really. you never in a million years would’ve thought a ‘study session’ would end up with having jimin fuck you missionary, watching how her cock disappears inside you as she slowly thrusts into you and moans your name whilst wonyoung fucked your throat, nestling her slender fingers into your hair guiding your head to bob up and down her length ahehehefheh

when both of them are close to cumming, i feel like they’d be the types to not even tell you, lowkey.. especially jiminfcksmdm she’d just be so lost in the sensation of how good her cock feels fucking your tight, wet cunt is that she’d just carelessly shoot her load into you as if you were just some sex toy,,, she can’t help it!! she wants to mark you as much as she can, even if that meant potentially knocking you u— [GUNSHOTS]

also it is important to mention that while jimin lovesss fucking your pussy, wonyoung is absolutely a head girlie.. she’d much rather have you down on her knees and sucking her dick than fucking you. don’t get her wrong, she’ll still dick you down if you asked her to, she just prefers using the pretty mouth that calls her ‘unnie’ way more aheheh

you’d just be straight up lying if you said that you didn’t yearn for more of them after that day… especially after having the many changes that your relationship with them had gone through. back then, they’d stare at you with innocent eyes, gaze warm and polite when seeing you, waving at you. now? they were basically eyefucking you and smirking at you everytime they saw you in the hallways.

it didn’t take long for them to take that to the next level,, omg next level by aespa— [NUKES] SORRY. but yeah sometimes even pulling you away from your nerdy friend group to have a quickie in the bathroom just because they know you’ll let them use your body at random times of the daycjenfkd they’re unhinged i fear! using your exams as an excuse,, saying shit like “but it’s important to relax and relieve stress before an exam!” before proceeding to dick you down in a stall likee.. right, right..

of course, you live for every second of it and they know it, but acting all innocent and oblivious towards their advances when really, you’re already soaked by the time that you’re on your way to their dorm so you can suck them off after they text you to come over is all part of the funkdjsndm

[mascdestr0yer]

Number one (1)

Hopkins!Paige x Fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, a bit cheesy, a girl and basketball player (zombies ref)

Trope: slow burn

Synopsis: Senior year just started, who knew paige was sooo ‘charming’ (eye roll)

“do you ever stop talking?”

Previous | Next

YOU’VE GONE THROUGH the first three out of six periods fine, until you got to calculus. You walked into class, your nose scrunched up at the coolness of the AC blasting.

The room was dimly lit, but also cozy in some way. Fucking partner desks.. You hated tables where it was big enough to fit two seats, maybe because you hated the awkward silence of the infamous ‘turn and talk’ that all teachers seem to enjoy.

What you did enjoy was the fact the table were higher, you liked swaying your feet in the taller chairs. Plus, lunch was after this, so a win is a win.

The class was three quarters of the room was empty, mainly because the bell hasn’t rung for the end of passing period or people are just lost.

“What’s your name?” A young woman, with a dark brown bob and mushroom earings, asks. You assumed who was your teacher, obviously.

“Y/N,” You answered, the youthful woman jogs over to her desk and looks at her laptop.

“you sit,” Her voice trails off when she’s up from the screen. “there.” She points to the empty partner desk in the back, you muttered a small ‘thanks’ and made your way to your seat. you decided to take the one close to the wall, charging your phone is at the top of your priorities right now.

You put your backpack down, scrolling through your phone, since class didn’t start yet. About three minutes later, a tall blonde girl, okay, you know who she was.

She threw a basketball at your head during pe freshmen year, she kept apologizing for months everytime she saw you, you felt like she was mocking you.

Then, she followed you on instagram, that summer. you saw her oddly large following for a now sophomore in high school. she was a basketball player, good one at that. how ironic, you thought.

You had to admit, paige bueckers, was so.. you could never explain the feeling, but you knew, it was definitely something.

You guys didn’t really talk much, unless it was for those stupid icebreakers for the first two weeks of school. Then she became the biggest chatterbox of them all.

“psst,y/n?” The taller girl whispered, lightly tapping your knee.

“we’re right next to each other, you don’t have to ‘psst’, it’s stupid,”You mumble, trying to keep up with Ms.Carson’s, your teacher, notes.

“are you always upset or do you have some grudge only against me?” She whispered back.

“no, how could i have s grudge when i barely know you,” You, getting annoyed even more by the second, scoot over in your chair.

she snickers, “well, your actions say otherwise.” You ignored her, continuing to highlight away in your notebook. “you know-“ she starts, before you cut her off.

“you talk a lot..you know that?” you mocked, finally looking up at her, making eye contact. She just smirked and opened her notebook, writing down her notes.

You could tolerate her bugging you in class but, ever since she found out where you hung out at during lunch, it’s starting to become difficult.

“What are you reading today?” the taller girl asks, as she sits down next to you in the library. “this is a different one from yesterday, right?” You just ignored her, finding the book more important.

“i don’t have basketball practice today, we could like.. hangout, only-only if you want too, i mean.. you don’t have too if you don’t want too,” She rambles on, talking your ear off. “do you have friends, i mean it must be boring-“

“paige, please..” you scolded the girl, she was making it harder to focus.

“right, my bad,” she whispers, she began fiddling with her fingers. “for real though, do you have friends? like actual friends?” you closed you book, making sure to bookmark it.

“why does it matter?” your face was scrunched up with confusion.

“Well, i was thinking.. we could be friends, you know, since you don’t have any.” she fidgets with the hem of her shirt, not making eye contact anymore as her voice trails off.

“you’re so weird.. i never said i didn’t have friends,”

“you think i’m weird? crazy comjng from you.” She sits up, now completely offended.

“i’d love to be friends with paige bueckers..” you softly replied to her earlier comment.

it’s not finished or proofed, so bare with me