#added a read-more thing bc i feel like my answer came a bit too long lmao

[yelenaslyubov]

Twin Size Mattress (yelena belova university AU)

main masterlist || yelena belova || requests

a/n: heyyyy everyone! well i kept my promise one way or another and i finally have a piece written for you all! i’m sorry if it’s not up to par compared to my other stories, but it’s been a while and i feel a little rusty when it comes to this type of thing. i wanted to try something different for this time around and i think i accomplished that. also, let me know if you guys like the university AU aspect of this bc i might just be able to continue it a little bit (i say maybe loosely lol). in addition, i added a fun little moment of adding the outfits the characters would be wearing!! i hope you guys enjoy this new story and hopefully there will be more to come! it’s good to be back🥹🥹i hope to see more of you soon🫶

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: yelena belova (AU) x reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+) smut, fingering, oral, dom!reader, mentions of alcohol, language

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: you and yelena have been going to college together for the past couple years. when a college football game commences, you and yelena spend the day together and finish it off with a bang

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 3.7k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ yelena’s outfit

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ reader’s outfit

//

The pressing weight of your backpack dug into your shoulders as you quickly made your way to Yale’s school of art. Though your major was in English, you had connections that allowed you to use the photography facilities located elsewhere. Your bag was full of books, film equipment, and the negatives that you were anxious to develop.

It was college game day, the Harvard vs. Yale game to be more specific, so shoving through blue and red crowds of students was at the bottom of your list. Your trip to the dark room had to be short because even though you hated the idea of all things sports, you felt that tradition outweighed your personal grievances.

As you shut the door to the room and found yourself alone with the quiet, red space, your mind seemed to lighten. The pictures you had brought with you made their way out of your bag and into the developing process. You went through the usual motions until you hung them up to dry. Before you were beautiful headshots and silhouettes of your roommate, Yelena.

While most were taken with the consent of Yelena, there were some too extraordinary to possibly miss out on. The red hues accentuated the curves you so desperately longed to stroke. Of course, this information was unbeknownst to her.

She was the reason why you were so anxious to develop the pictures. Looking through the lense that wonderful day made you so much more excited to see them all finished. The day had been an exciting one. During the summer before the two of you went back to school you had a day at the beach. The weather was perfect, and she was perfect. She wore this lilac swim set that complimented her blonde hair and summer kissed skin so well you thought you would never be able to tear your eyes away from her.

As you went through each picture of her smiling, laughing, and being her usual self you came across the pictures that you tried so hard not to take. Your desire got the better part of you at this moment. The pictures arose of her laying belly down on her towel, a perfect view of her toned back paired with her other curves you could barely speak of. It was hard not to think about that day without becoming wildly sad that she had no idea you liked her with everything inside you.

These few intimate pictures would go where the rest of them are; hidden away in your journal. It was easier this way because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship that you valued so much. But what if she felt the same? You pulled yourself out of your delusions or else you might start to have hope.

She must have read your mind because your phone started ringing and as you pulled it out of your bag, Yelena’s face was vibrating on your screen.

“Hello?” you answered

“Where are you? You better not still be in that stupid dark room!” The sound of massive crowds were loud on the other side of the phone, but your voice drowned out every noise that could be taking place.

“Ha, funny story…”

“Seriously! The game starts soon, y/n. Hurry!”

“You miss me or something, Belova?”

She chuckled once. “And if I did?”

There was silence on your end because your one moment of bravery was already spent, leaving you speechless. “Uhm I’ll start heading your way right now. I should only be about 15 minutes out.”

“Perfect, I’ll save you a seat!”

“Thanks, Lena. Love you, bye,” you said naturally.

It was only then did you realize the words that slipped out of your mouth. Love you, really? You hoped that she thought it wasn’t how you really meant it.

After your stupid mistake, you took your pictures, tucked them away in your journal, and took off out of the building. The day was sunny but the fall crisp in the air took the edge off of the heat from the sun. Even from far away you could hear the triumph of the marching band playing their game day songs. Though your dislike of sports was one thing, there was a certain feeling you got on days like this; the music, the people, the adrenaline, that really made you succumb to the American tradition.

Finding Yelena in the crowd would be the easy part, the hard part would be keeping your eyes off her the entire afternoon. Luckily, she generally picked the same area each game day to sit so it wouldn’t be an extreme challenge to spot her out.

Your suspicion came true when you saw her jumping up and down a few aisles up from the front towards the 40 yard line. She was dressed in her usual Yelena chic, but with a hint of school spirit. You smiled to yourself at her excitement for the game and waited to see if she noticed you walking up to greet her.

“You’re here!” she yelled. She shuffled through other people on her row and fell into your arms. The strong smell of her cologne filled your nose and warmed your heart. You hugged her tightly back and squeezed the leather jacket that was draped around her. “You almost missed the game,” she whined.

“Lena, kickoff hasn’t even started, but I see that hasn’t stopped you from starting early.” You eyed the cold beer she had in her Yale koozie.

“Oh hush and let me be. Now get in there so we can watch.” As you were sneaking past other students Yelena tapped you on the ass and giggled. This was nothing unusual for Yelena, but each time she did it, it made your cheeks glow red.

The two of you settled into your places in the stadium surrounded by a couple of your friends and watched the game begin. The first half of the game was intense with each team up and down on scores. When the buzzer sounded to notify it was halftime everyone seemed to sigh in relief. The crowds started to shuffle again to take a quick intermission before the second half.

“So y/n, what photos were you able to get this time?” Yelena asked.

It was the question you were avoiding answering. If you pulled out the few you wanted to show her, the rest you spent your time hiding would be exposed as well.

“Oh they weren’t anything important, just a couple rolls I hadn’t developed yet.” You tried to play it cool not to give it away.

“Everything of yours is important to me.” Her saying that just made it so much harder to keep them all a secret. “Come on, please show me.”

She gave you her best pouty face and it was so unfortunate that it worked. You rolled your eyes and tried to open the journal in your bag so you could find the pictures you wanted her to see. Once they were all collected you passed them over to her and her face lit up.

“The day at the beach! I remember these.” She flipped through them with a grin on her face. She laughed when the picture of you popped up with your pants soaking yet from the ocean waves. “You were so pissed.”

“Pissed is an understatement,” you added. She smiled up at you and your stomach was tied up in knots. You weren’t sure whether it was the dimples that just so sneakily showed up, her rosy lips, or the bright green eyes that you could finally see without her sunglasses getting in the way.

“These are so amazing— you’re amazing. I need copies of these,” she begged.

“Anything for you,” you smiled.

“Anything?” Yelena smirked.

Your cheeks darkened red. “Shut up.” You shoved her a little with your shoulder.

By the time you showed all your creations off to Yelena the second half of the game was in full swing.

The second was more intense than the first due to Yale being behind for most of the game. Yelena was starting to become too anxious for your liking, and you hoped for her sake that you guys could pull out the win. There was a minute left on the clock and Yelena practically had your arm in a chokehold.

“Fucking run the ball, jackass!” Yelena yelled.

“Hey now, you wanna simmer down a little for me?” you asked, hoping to calm her down a bit.

She chuckled a little and leaned into your arm more. “Sorry, sorry. Anything for you,” she mocked from your previous words.

She quickly turned her head back so she could enjoy the last minute of the game. Her grip only became tighter around your arm as the clock ticked down to the wire. The whistle sounded to indicate that Yale called for a timeout. They needed to sort out their plans if they were going to try and pull out this win. They were down 28-24 with only around 30 seconds to go.

Once they were back in the game the crowd went wild, Yelena included. Number 13 got a hold of the ball and ran all the way to the end zone for a touchdown. Yelena screamed like she never had before and threw her hands up in the air. You cheered along with her at your school’s win. Yelena jumped into your arms out of excitement and you held her tightly as you swept her up in the air.

“We did it, Lena!” you cheered.

She found her footing back on the ground and she grabbed your face and looked into your eyes. “We did it!” The pure shock on your face made her recoil back a bit which resulted in her having matching cheeks just like yourself. “Uh- I- I’m sorry.”

“No, no. You didn’t do anything wrong,” you smiled. “Let’s just get out of here before we’re all packed in.”

You said goodbye to your friends right before a Yelena grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowd. You knew it meant nothing, but having your hand in hers was a dream come true.

When you had made it out of the crowd, it seemed as though the two of you forgot you were still linked together. You quickly broke it off before she could say anything about it.

“So, are we going to keep walking with nowhere to go or are you taking me out?” Yelena smirked.

“Am I what?” you questioned.

“You really are worked up today.” Yelena laughed, but you knew it was true and you didn’t know how else to hide it.

“Why don’t we go back to my dorm? My roommate isn’t there like usual so we could watch a movie or something?”

“Do you have popcorn?” she asked and you nodded. “Then it’s a deal.”

The two of you talked and laughed on the walk to your dorm. Like usual, Yelena made it so difficult to not stare at her. She had such a unique confidence that drew you deeper and deeper into her presence. The way she carried herself was like no other.

When you made it into your room Yelena immediately started searching for your snacks that you kept in the drawers under your bed. You set your things down on your desk and sat down in your chair.

“Do you mind if I borrow some of your clothes?” Yelena asked.

“I don’t know why you even ask anymore, Lena. Your closet consists of half of my clothes anyway,” you laughed.

She rolled her eyes and started taking her clothes off to change. Trying not to watch her change was not easy to come by. You turned around in your chair and pretended to unload your back from the day. What Yelena didn’t know is that your mirror allowed the perfect angle to see different parts of her.

What really got you was the matching black bra and underwear that revealed itself as she took her clothes off. This surprise caused you to knock a few things off your desk in the process, one of them being your journal. Naturally, Yelena turned around to try and help.

“What did you do, get angry and throw things off the desk?” Yelena laughed. It was awful timing to have other pictures that Yelena did not see poking out of your journal. “What are these?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“Y/n, what are these?”

“Just pictures…”

Yelena stared at you puzzlingly as she picked up the journal off the floor and opened it to reveal the hidden pictures inside. Her brows furrowed as she inspected each one in great detail.

“Y/n, these are…so beautiful.”

You stood there staring down at the pictures or anywhere else in the room, just so you didn’t have to look at her.

“Why didn’t you show me these?” Yelena’s voice was softer now, more gentle. “Y/n?”

“I-I don’t know… I guess I thought you would think it was weird,” you replied shyly.

“Why would it be weird?”

Shit. If you told her why then she would know how you felt, but if you say nothing at all that’s not any better. You were stuck.

“I don’t know…”

She searched your face from any indication of an explanation. There was so much happening that you almost forgot Yelena was half naked.

“These are beautiful.”

“Only because you’re in them,” you bravely said.

Yelena blushed, something you didn’t see very often. “Damn y/l/n, you sure do know the way to my heart.”

“I’m serious.” You felt like your world had stopped at the thought of where this was going. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Yelena. How could I not take those pictures that day?”

Yelena was quiet now. You weren’t sure whether this was good or bad. You were tired of being subtle, especially now that you had her right where you wanted her.

“I don’t know what to say,” Yelena said. Her eyes were full of something you hadn’t seen before.

You looked at her for a moment trying to build up your confidence one last time because you knew if you didn’t then you would never be able to do this.

“For once Belova, I would love it if you said nothing at all.” You stepped closer so you could delicately slide your hands up behind her neck. She looked taken off guard, but she definitely was not fighting it. When Yelena took her hands and placed them around the straps of your overalls and pulled you closer so you were face to face, you knew she might’ve wanted this just as much as you.

“Just kiss me already,” she whispered close enough you could feel the breath on your lips. With her words you threw your lips against hers in a kiss that you waited much too long for. Your lips moved against hers as your hands were tangled in her blonde waves. Yelena pulled and grabbed at anything on you just to make you even closer to one another.

You shifted your position to try and push yourself against Yelena so that she may lean against the bed. You knew exactly what your intentions were as of now, but you were not sure how Yelena would feel about it.

The first brush of her tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine and you weren’t sure if she heard your quiet moan or not. You saved your restraint for so many months, so now there was nothing holding you back. Your lips traveled away from hers to down her soft neck. You placed rough and hungry kisses along the nape of her neck and you could tell just by her demeanor that she was having a hard time keeping quiet.

“Uhm, what about your roommate?” Yelena asked in between heavy breaths

“What about them?”

“What if they, you know, walk in?” You must have found a sweet spot on her neck because her question ended with a whine.

“They’re never here.”

“But what if-”

“Just shut up already,” you said.

You smiled against her lips as you threw her shoulders down on the bed as gently as you could. It was hard to take things slow when you had been craving exactly this for far too long.

As your hungry lips continued to move against Yelena’s, you found your fingers playing with the band of her underwear. Your fingers traced all along the skin that was covered.

“I want to see every part of you that was hiding in these photos,” you said. Your mind went back to the day you took those sexy pictures of her and it made you even more desperate for what was hiding beneath Yelena’s garments.

“I just need you to touch me,” Yelena said, breathless. “Please touch me.”

You were quick to pull down her panties to reveal a sight you never thought you would have the pleasure of seeing. Even the panties that brushed against her pussy made her wince in pleasure.

“Please,” begged Yelena.

After undressing her bottom, in one swift motion you unhooked her bra.

“You want me to touch you like this?”

You placed your lips around one of her nipples as you watched her head fall into the bed. Your tongue made its way to circle around her nipple, slowly building up her desire.

Without thinking, you slightly tugged on her nipple with your teeth. Yelena moaned just loud enough for you to hear. It was the most beautiful sound that you had been dying to hear since you met her.

You wanted to move on further.

“Or I could maybe touch you like this?”

Your hand was almost shaking as it made its way down to get center. Your fingers slowly but surely made small circles on her clit. Now, Yelena was panting with lust and trying to keep quiet despite what you wanted.

“Fuck, Lena. You’re so wet.” You couldn’t help yourself from pointing out the obvious. The wetness that covered her only made yours grow.

Yelena had her mouth covered now, most likely paranoid that others would hear her like she had said earlier.

“I want to hear you,” you demanded.

Yelena was moaning softly through her hand now, a reaction to your words.

“Be a good girl and take your hand away from your mouth. I want to hear you.”

She did as you wished and removed her hand. The hand that previously resided over her mouth was now gripped onto the bed.

You took a minute to admire her before moving on further. Her body was even more gorgeous than you could’ve ever imagined. Her toned arms that held on so tightly to the bed, her curves that wavered like the ocean down her body, and her perfectly kissed skin, just how you liked it.

“Maybe you want me to touch you… like this?”

You went even further and slowly slipped your fingers inside her pussy. As you sunk your fingers deep inside her, Yelena became even more worked up.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned. “Please keep going. It feels so good.”

Seeing Yelena drown in the pleasure of your fingers inside her was something you never thought you would live to see.

“You feel so good, baby.” Yelena seemed to like the name because she let out a long whine. “Good girl. Be louder for me.”

You loved the power you had over her in such a short amount of time.

The pace of your fingers stayed quite steady now. Yelena moaned with each stroke that went deeper in her pretty pussy. There was one more thing that you longed to do before she reached her limit.

“You want me to touch you like this, baby?”

Finally, with your fingers still keeping a rhythm inside her, you lowered yourself down on the bed so that you could taste her.

Your tongue made its way to make contact with her clit. Yelena was the loudest now, and with her noise came her restless body. Much like her, you were just as overcome with pleasure.

Her hips bucked into your face with each increasing second. Your tongue explored every single part of her, almost as if you would never get to do it again. Your fingers sped up now that you could tell she was getting closer.

“Holy fuck, right there,” Yelena moaned. “Keep going, I’m so close.”

“Good job, baby,” you murmured. “I want you to cum around my fingers.”

Your words only sped up the process more. Her hips moved even faster which made it hard for you to keep your pace. Your tongue and fingers moved rapidly as she started to reach the peak of her climax

“I’m gonna cum baby,” Yelena said breathlessly.

All at once, Yelena let out a loud stream of moans that you were sure echoed through the hall in your dorm. You didn’t care. You were happy to have her all to yourself, and now, everyone knew it too.

“Good girl, let it all out,” you praised her.

Yelena laid there on your bed to try and catch her breath. You couldn’t help but watch the result of your doings as she looked so worked up.

You took your last opportunity to soak her body in by kissing all the way up her thighs, stomach, chest, and face. Yelena seemed to be hiding her face a bit, most definitely different from her usual demeanor.

You moved her hand that shielded her face. “You okay?”

She gave a thumbs up

“Does that mean it felt okay?”

She had a surprised look on her face. “The entire hall heard me and you think it didn’t feel good?!”

You laughed. “Just checking.”

You both laid next to each other for a while in silence before Yelena spoke up.

“So…how long have you felt this way?”

“When did you start school here?”

“Uhm…two years ago?”

“Then two years.”

Yelena looked over at you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nodded. “How could I not, just look at you.” Yelena smiled at your words.

“Well, I’ve worked up an appetite after all that fun. What do you say we make some popcorn and watch a movie and pretend like no one heard all of that?”

“That sounds perfect to me.”

The two of you spent the rest of the night in each other’s company talking and reveling in the day’s events. You laid in bed thinking about how happy you were to have taken those pictures that day on the beach.

//

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[beartitled]

Can you do some more comics with Francis mosses

I can, but the problem is

That I’m pretty much out of ideas and I’m progressively getting tired of tnmn fandom

Ppl who look at my tags probably noticed that 😓

More of my thoughts under read more for curious ppl

(short answer maybe I will do more, but I desperately need a break from tnmn)

! Just a general warning: this came out kinda long + sort of venty

Originally I planned to do 1 comic drop and move on, but got stuck bc ppl liked tnmn comics and kept asking for more (and still do-)

Generally I don’t mind doing more if the ideas are there, but I want to address this: I’m tired

I know blowing up is usually a good thing and I appreciate people enjoying my stuff

But it’s exhausting to see that tnmn is the only type of content which is relevant, to the point that my own projects or stuff I enjoy are just kinda.. ignored

It’s fair – again my blog is heavily fandom based

(+Tsp were and still is kinda the focus)

But with tnmn fandom it’s a bit… different

Maybe I’m biased and it’s just my negative experience with tiktok comments

Remember this art?

cleaning up transphobic comments was.. um tough

Again, I get that you can’t be in that neat bubble completely sheltered from negativity

Humans are just assholes by nature really/j

So I was expecting the backlash, but not that much

I think maybe tsp fandom spoiled me a bit (in a good way), bc I got a feeling that everyone in tsp was positive of any lgbt+ headcanons and just generally more supportive

(don’t get me wrong, there ARE problems in tsp community too, taking narrators design controversy into account as one of the examples)

Obviously every fandom always has it’s own issues, show me at least one fandom that didn’t have some sort of meaningless controversy or some sort of problematic people in it

It happens

But it leaves a bad taste in your mouth sometimes

And for me personally it only added to not so pleasant experience

The thing I also noticed, when I interacted with other fandoms

Ppl wrote positive stuff first and foremost, not really asking for anything

Here it’s just “hey more. I want more. Do more. Do this character. Do this. Do more.”

The only reason I kept doing more, because likes, reblogs, views – these comics get a ton of attention

there is a audience to please alright

But this thing comes with a pressure tho

and it shows

so let me illustrate

This bookcase

Is my shame

Because I was so rushing, I just copied and colour corrected this bookcase from my diploma comic and pasted it here in hopes for the best

💥IT LOOKS HORRIBLE OKAY💥

Usually it’s normal to take materials used in other projects

the not so normal part is

to leave it like that because your stress reducing tea doesn’t work and you don’t really have time to redraw it

my m en ta l s t a t e i s f i n e ah ah h ah ah

Ok but jokes aside: it’s really tempting, to just abandon everything and produce content like some sort of content farm

But I don’t want to, I’m forcing myself and it makes my art worse

Yes it’s subtle, new people won’t even see this

But I’m not improving

And I don’t enjoy just anxiously popping out comics because everyone keeps asking

I can give it my all to something when I’m passionate, but just “hey I’m getting attention” is not the best motivator

Attention like that does get to my head, I know that I will probably give in again and do more, bc I will compare my posts engagement

But what’s the point of recognition, when you feel.. so numb about it…

Sorry for a mountain of text and thank you for ppl who actually took their time to read it

It’s been building up for a while and I feel like people need to know the reason why I’m not so enthusiastic about making “more”

I’m not necessarily completely abandoning this fandom

I still plan to do ask/suggestions event for STP (I’m just making sure I can dedicate my time to it, that’s why it’s taking so long) and I can add tnmn to the mix

Like STP+tnmn kind of deal

But for now – I need a break

At least for a little bit

[dont-offend-the-bees]

When He Comes Around (My Feet Don't Touch the Ground)

In which Nandor sleeps upside down like a bat and the author somehow uses this very silly premise as an excuse to be disgustingly sappy

(read on Ao3) (registered users only)

I'm digging through some drafts and WIPs atm and I found this silly lil thing nearly finished, so I added a few more words and gave it a quick spit polish and here it is! Hardly a masterpiece but now it's out of my WIP file xD

Anyway, this literally came about bc I thought it would be funny if Nandor slept upside down, and then I accidentally got a bit cute and feels-y with it. Each small section is a different timeskip, so section one is like season one -- the simple familiar!Guillermo days -- section two is like, season 4 where the Colin plot is happening but the Nandor's wives plot isn't, or something. Basically a s4 where they're actually *not* being total dummies about their feelings. (I know. Unrealistic.) And section three is in the futurrrreeee but not with any mind to being season 5 compliant bc I wrote most of it before then. They are far too emotionally intelligent in this fic but what do you expect from a 2k-ish bubble of fluff.

Anyway, hope you like!

*

“Master?” Guillermo knocks gingerly, voice soft and welcoming. If he doesn’t ease Nandor out of his slumber gently, he’ll be bitchy all night. “Master, it’s nightfall.”

No answer. Guillermo takes a deep breath, and carefully nudges the door open, slipping into the darkened crypt like a shadow.

He calls out a couple more times, keeping his voice soft as he flits around lighting candles. He’s done a full circuit of the room before he gets any response: a quiet creak creeps under the closet door, followed by a low groan. “Guillermo? It feels early…”

“Days are getting shorter,” says Guillermo, apologetic. As if the relative distance of the sun and the earth is his fault, somehow. He’ sure Nandor could find a way to blame him for it somehow. He walks over to the closet door. “If you want we could set a time for the rest of the winter, I mean, you don’t have to be up all night. Ready, Master?”

“Yes, I am ready.”

Guillermo tugs the closet door open, squinting into the dark beyond as his soft candlelight creeps into the shadowed nook. It always takes his eyes a second to adjust; to pick out the details of his Master beyond the vague outline of a large, gently swaying object dangling from the ceiling.

Nandor blinks in the light, eyes heavy-lidded and mouth in a grumpy frown. His long, dark hair hangs straight down from his head, nearly brushing the floor as he peers at Guillermo upside-down, arms crossed tightly over his chest. With his legs hooked over a metal bar near the ceiling, his face dangles a few feet above the floor– and Guillermo sinks easily down to one knee. His master hates it when he ‘looms’ in the morning. The full weight of Nandor’s sleepy gaze lands upon Guillermo’s face as he comes within eye level.

“Good morning, Master,” says Guillermo, smiling as he tugs the door open wider.

Nandor squints his eyes and yawns like a cat before he answers in kind. “Good morning, Guillermo.”

“Sleep well?”

“Yes, for a very short while,” Nandor grumbles, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his back. “Eeesh. Daylight savings. I do not understand it.”

“It’s to do with the sun, Master,” says Guillermo, shuffling back and bracing himself in position with one hand extended and the other planted on the doorframe. “And the way we revolve round it.”

Nandor snorts in amusement. “Ah, Guillermo, clearly you are not a man of science. The sun goes around us.”

Guillermo bites his lip. “Of course, Master. Ready to get up?”

Humming, Nandor reaches out to take Guillermo’s offered hand. Once safely anchored he drops, flips round and lands gracefully on his feet with that strange vampiric control over gravity he has, bare toes sinking into the plush carpets piled at the bottom of the closet. Now he’s the one looming, arcing high into the air over Guillermo on his bended knee, an imposing figure even in the soft white drapes of his sleeping clothes. Like he’s a flawless greek statue, carved worshipfully from marble; and Guillermo is praying at his feet.

But the hand in his own isn’t marble, pale and cold though it may be. And the way it clings to Guillermo’s a few breaths longer before releasing him feels too human to be godly.

*

Guillermo’s gaze wanders around the crypt, quiet and curious. He’s been in here, of course, many times. But it’s funny how being relieved of his familiar duties has drastically cut down on his time spent in Nandor’s space. Several candles have burnt down and not been replaced yet and there’s a pile of long-overdue laundry, but otherwise it’s surprising how not-messy it is. But then, Nandor’s always been a bit of a neat freak; he just got complacent for a while with someone else to do the cleaning for him.

“Ah, yes, I have been meaning to do those,” Nandor gestures to the pile, and it may be Guillermo’s imagination but he seems embarrassed. “With the help of the all-knowing Google I discovered a local washerwoman; she has the machines and the dry cleaning, and she stays open very late. I meant to go today but the nights, they are so short…”

“Daylight savings strikes again,” Guillermo jokes softly, crossing over to the pile. “I can do it.”

“You do not have to –”

“No, it’s– it’s fine. I mean, not all the time. But you’re right; nights are short right now, and the days are, uh, long. Real long. I don’t mind running to the dry cleaners for you.”

Nandor regards him with a flash of vulnerability softening his eyes; his hands stay clasped sweetly in front of his chest. “Thank you, Guillermo.” Clearing his throat, he reaches for the clasp on his cloak. “I suppose it is time to turn in.”

Guillermo politely turns his back while Nandor disrobes, running his fingers along the mantelpiece. It’s a little dusty; maybe he should get Nandor one of those handheld vacuums to help him keep on top of it. Another tentative throat-clear has him turning round shortly, finding Nandor in his soft sleep clothes, his clothes from the day held gingerly in front of him in a neat pile. Guillermo smiles and takes them, adding them to the rest.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Nandor hesitates, then adds after a minute’s deliberation: “And you.”

Guillermo’s heart does some kind of tap dance. “Yeah, you better,” he jokingly deflects.

“You should go and do something fun; while you are out,” says Nandor. “Take advantage of the long day.”

“I’ve gotta be around for Colin.”

“Perhaps you could take him with you? If he is awake. The boy is a daywalker, too; he should have the chance to play in the sun.”

There’s something so wistful in Nandor’s voice it almost brings a tear to Guillermo’s eye. He nods. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”

Nandor nods. “I hope the two of you will have fun. I would join you; if it would not burn me to little vampire crisps.”

“Maybe we’ll go to the dog park. I’ll take pictures for you.”

“That would be nice.” Backing up to his closet, Nandor turns and hooks his hands over the doorframe, swinging his legs up and casually defying gravity to hook his knees over the bar. Releasing the frame, he swings into position, long hair dangling, upside-down eyes regarding Guillermo warmly across the room.

A small laugh breaks free. It’s been so long since Guillermo’s been around to see Nandor’s ridiculous nightly routine. He’s actually missed it. He steps closer, brushing his hands over the expensive, ornate coffin that Nandor never uses because he prefers to be upside down, for some goddamn reason. Guillermo remembers fondly the day Nandor admitted to him that his finds being cooped up flat in the casket uncomfortable. Guillermo had gone all around the house, collecting up blankets and furs and rugs, treating everything moth-eaten and then drowning out the chemical smell in oils and scents he knew Nandor loved. He remembered installing the strongest chin-up bar he could find in that closet, as high as he could make it go without cutting off leg room, remembers lining the floor and walls with every soft and luxurious thing he’d found. But most of all he remembers Nandor’s face when he’d showed him; for all of Nandor’s little smiles and laughs he’d seen in his time serving, he thinks that’s the first time he’d ever had one directed at him. Stepping over, Guillermo leans on the doorframe and takes a peek inside, looking at the little nest he’d built with his own two hands.

A new addition to the soft wall hangings catches his eye. He raises his eyebrow. “That’s new.”

Nandor’s eyes flick to the very familiar green sweater. He looks back sheepishly. “Yes, well. You left it lying around. It is soft.”

“Looks good.”

Nandor relaxes minutely, hands clasped again. “Between you and me; I am thinking that this space is a little too small, these days. What if someone wants to sleep over?”

Biting back a smile, Guillermo feels the wall through the soft drapes, crouching to get a feel of the join where it meets the floor. “Hmm. guess you may be able to knock out one of these walls, extend the space a little. I can help.”

“Thank you, Guillermo.”

Guillermo feels the words tickle across his cheek, and that’s about how he realises his exploration has brought him in barely a few inches from Nandor’s upside down face. He has an up close view of Nandor’s dark, bright eyes, his furrowing brow, the pinch of his sharp canine as it bites his lip.

And then a hand alights on Guillermo’s cheek, right where the thanks did just seconds ago.

“Thank you,” says Nandor once more, soft. “For everything you do.”

He draws him close, and Guillermo goes; still on his knees, but now his beautiful god is praying back.

*

“Guillermo?”

“Nandor.”

“You are on my side of the closet.”

Guillermo opens one eye to peer at Nandor, incredulous. “...Seriously?”

Nandor tsks, wiggling his toes in the thick, plush pile of the rug. “I always sleep on the right side, Guillermo!”

“It only has sides because I helped you expand it.”

“Yes, and I like the right one!”

Guillermo clicks his tongue. He likes the right side, too – mainly because it was the side directly by the closet door, and years of protecting his former master from vampire assassins had him pretty geared towards placing himself in the vulnerable position. But then again, he and Nandor had a lot more of the same biological advantages and disadvantages than they used to these days. Rolling his eyes, Guillermo shuffle his knees, edging along the pole into the dark nook of the newly exposed left side of the closet. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me when you get murdered first.”

Nandor scoffs. “If anyone is foolish enough to intrude on our slumber, Guillermo, I think it will be them who is murdered first.” He smiles brightly when Guillermo finishes his shuffling. “Thank you. I’m coming innnnn!”

Guillermo laughs as Nandor swings himself onto the bar. Jeez, he’d married a dork. For fucking eternity. “Okay, okay. Get the door, mi vida?”

With a wave of Nandor’s hand, the door swings shut with a quiet click, another wave sliding the heavy precautionary deadbolt. Guillermo still needs him to teach him how to do that.

“Alone at last,” says Nandor in a low voice.

Guillermo bites his lip and shuffles a little closer to Nandor’s side, until he can press their hips together. “Uh oh. I know that tone.”

Nandor chuckles softly, and in the darkness Guillermo feels a soft, dry kiss press to his cheek. “Hmm. Maybe later; I am tired. It has been a long night.”

So is Guillermo, honestly. It has been a long night, and a cold one – where the hell are the sprawling days of summer when you need them? Fucking daylight savings. But he gives Nandor a teasing prod in the side anyway. “You’re getting old.”

“And don’t you be forgetting it,” says Nandor, haughty and self-important. But in their cosy, homey dark his arms wrap around Guillermo to tuck him in close, his voice ducking just low enough for Guillermo’s vampiric ears alone to catch. “But you keep me young.”

*

Thanks for reading <3 If you wanna chuck me a comment/reblog I'll love you forever

[grasslandgirl]

HI SAV!!! HAPPY SLASHERVERSARY MWAH. legitimately so deeply excited to read the new fic 💖 ALSO wanted to throw ask at you bc I am sure you have many thoughts and I wanna hear them all, so! do you have a favorite line you've written, across all of slasherverse so far, or one that you think is like, a core line/core component? and what scene in 'verse so far has been the most fun to write?

HIII JADE MWAAHHH MWAAH MWAH THANK U SORRY FOR BELATED RESPONSE XOXO

ooooohh aaaaaaa okay. in answering these it got really long bc I added some snip cuts from some of the fics so. click thru the read more xoxo

do you have a favorite line you've written, across all of slasherverse so far, or one that you think is like, a core line/core component?

ummmm. this is so hard. I think the ending line/lines of the original slasherverse fic are sooo crazy and like impactful to me personally at least ??

But in the moment before the officer reaches them, light breaks through the dense tree line, the first clear beam of sunshine that morning. It lands squarely on Fig’s face. Blinding, but warm. She grimaces, half smile.  “Fucking day break,” she mutters under her breath. 

like. yeah. I feel really good about that being the final ending beat and I think the first/original slasherfic is soooo concise and effective and is forever one of my favorite things i've ever written- I also think the line

He told them that so many times- there’s no one around for miles, kids, did you know that?   There's no one to hear you scream.

that Jamie @gilears used in his first collage (and the cover of the bound fic she made of slasher for me !!!!!) (and my phone lock screen for nearly the last two years) is just. mwaaahhh and maybe that's bc its in the collage. and yet <3

what scene in 'verse so far has been the most fun to write?

i really really loved the imagery in the gorgug pov fic, windows down, scream along at the end when he and fig are driving in the middle of the night scream-singing along to teenagers by mcr. I just love that moment so much.

i also really really enjoyed two different bits in the most recent slasherverse installment, the two year anniversary fic, one where fig and gorgug have a conversation in the middle of the night and the scene is almost entirely dialogue- I really wanted to push myself and try to pare down the descriptions and internal monologue as much as possible bc I think sometimes my writing and dialogue specifically can get bogged down too much, and I really really like how clean and quick the scene came out (also the you and me bit at the end of this snip was a reference to something Jamie and I say to each other all the time bc I'm a SAP <3)

“Nightmare. Uh. It was- it wasn’t- yeah. I was awake until like four last night I think though. Staring at the ceiling.” “Hello preacher, it’s me, the choir.”  Gorgug huffed out a quiet laugh. It filled the room.  “Hello, choir. Can I join you in the… church?”  “Yikes, I dunno, maybe too soon with the church-and-religion jokes, dude. I had to go to four funerals. In churches.” Another pause stretched thin.  “Only two of them were even in churches, Fig-” “Yeah, okay, I know-” “Also it was a year and a half ago-” “Yeah, fine! Okay, sue me for trying to make a terrible-” “And if you’d tried to say that to anyone else-” “-Unfunny joke about our dead friends, dude-” “-They’d probably have you, like, committed, or whatever-” “-I’m sleep deprived as shit, you know I get punchy and stupid when I’m exhausted-” “-and-” “Wait.” “Huh?” “You’re gonna have me committed?” Gorgug sighed. Quiet and affectionate. “Only if I can come with.” “Deal.”  “You and me?”

and then similarly, there's a bit at the end that's basically just a monologue from fig about her feelings for and relationship to gorgug and a single brief response where the context is finally given that she's talking to a therapist. and I just. really enjoyed getting to fall down the rabbit hole of how people. and fig (hello projection) would talk? about that? and I really enjoy how it came out.

“It feels selfish. To- to- we’re trying to be better, right? Like, that’s what we’re doing here, uh, you and me. But I also mean me and him. We’re- fucking- we’re trying to get better. To not be, like, codependent and insanely traumatized and agoraphobic or whatever the fuck and- and- god. I don’t know. I don’t want to lose him. And I feel like- I feel like we’re both trying so hard and going through so much insane shit that no one else can even fucking understand, and- and- if I mess it up, if I want something more then I’m threatening all of that. The- the understanding and the safety and the comfort and like, like, he’s told me that sometimes it’s like I’m the only string keeping him together or the only, like, balloon keeping him afloat- god. Not in those words, actually- whatever, I’m editorializing, but the point, the point is that like. He’s my, like, touchstone to reality. And I’m his. And I get that that’s probably not the most healthy or well adjusted, or anything, but that’s what I’m in therapy to fix? And it’s taking a really fucking long time to fix my fucked up trauma PTSD brain which I get is like, normal and expected or whatever, but until we’re both like, normal and not traumatized codependent ducklings who’ve imprinted on each other for safety in a world that tried to kill us I’m- I’m like- it should stay the same. Us. Me and Gorgug. ‘Cause if I change something and it makes him worse or us worse or undoes any of the progress we’ve fucking made to recover then like- like- it’s just selfish, you know? I don’t wanna be selfish about that. About him.” Her therapist’s blurry image on her computer blinked, head tilted, considering.  “Okay. I hear you.”

finally there's a bit I wrote ages ago and haven't had a place where it fits in a fic yet but really enjoy it so here a gift for anyone who actually read thru this whole post lmao:

“I don’t really know how to pray,” Fig said, kicking slightly at the water. Droplets flicked up and landed with tiny ripples on the surface of the lake. “But I feel like we should. Because they are, back there, all the people that loved them but didn’t know them- not like we did. Who don’t know what it was like. Like, we should do something to like, counteract their prayer or something. Correct it.” “Spell check?” “Yeah,” Fig said, smiling faintly. “But I don’t really know how to do it ‘cept the whole, like, are you there, god, it’s me Fig; thing.” “Dear God.” “Yeah, exactly, Dear God. Do you think that does anything? Do you think he’s listening? If he cares if we say it like a letter or know all the right words? Amen, love Fig, that whole thing.” “Dunno. Do you think it matters? Maybe it’s just for us. To say what needs saying and remember them the way we knew them. And if God’s there and he listens then. I don’t know. It’s a bonus.” “Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right.”

XOXOXOXOXOOXXOOXOX JADE LOVE U HOPE U ENJOYED NEW SLASHERVERSE THANK UUU FOR THE ASK XOXOX MWAAH

[knightzp]

Heyy :D

For the writer wrapped - 15 20 27 + one question you wanna answer (free choice)

(Btw what should I call you?....knight?)

HIHII LEX TY FOR THE ASK <33

ask game here!

15. what wip are you taking into next year with you?

im the type of person that can only work on like one thing at a time so the only fic im working on rn is my enstars bigbang piece.... i will surely finish it before the end of this month but then i want to revise it reading the whooole thing again and see if i can improve anything before the posting date in february so ig that can take a bit longer and make it into next year. i also have a few ideas for new fics to write next year but since its nothing too especific and havent started writing them i dont think i can put them here lol

20. which work of yours have you reread the most?

oof good question. i read and reread all my fics way too much while writing them but after having posted them i normally only reread those that arent too long and not very often tbh (i should do it more often i just. forget aldjfk) but i dont think theres any one in particular ive reread more than others....

27. what do you listen to while writing?

i dont really listen to anything while im writing it just distracts me too much and doesnt let me get completely into the story bc the music doesnt normally match well with whats happening on the scene im writing so it throws me off a bit.... ive tried in the past with some background music but in the end its better to me to write in silence

bonus: 1. how many words have you written this year?

using this question as an excuse bc i was curious myself and adding the wordcount from both my posted fics and my bigbang fic its a total of 52.382 words!!!!!! woah it feels like a lot to me especially knowing i wrote nothing last year so im really really proud i came back so strong this year!!!!

[taegularities]

I ALSO

Read Silk and Stones today and 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

There's something that's pure magic about your writing and it just... your fic just took OVER, not only is it written and developed so WELL but every single moment of it just hits DEEP and builds and builds onto the character's growth and connection with each other

There was something so achy about reading in past and present because her present was filled with flashbacks and it was post-Tae, it was from a point in her life when she'd already lost him and yet what we get is how they fell in love and the depth of the FEEEEEELS in it were just 😭😭😭

When I realised in the present tense she was mourning the loss and absence of him in her life... that at some point between past and present Tae isn't THERE anymore it terrified me that it was an angsty ending 😭😭 but like MC, I couldn't move on and accept he HAD gone

When his past came out... I just absolutely refused to believe it or even entertain the idea because Tae's character was just too raw, too genuine, too much in pain and silent torment and entrapment to have been what the gossip and rumours made him out to be and to hear the REAL story behind it... of course Tae would take the blame at the cost of his reputation and safety 😭

And your writing embodied the achy vintage feel of poetry and stories of a time past, the writing of a historical story and then the art of writing reflected in writing... it was beautiful

Your poetry intertwined in the story was just 🥺🥺🥺✨️ and I love loved it

I loved how Tae spoke in broken, incomplete poems because it left that bit of magic and unknown to it because maybe...cos maybe if poems are an expression of love and longing and torment he leaves them incomplete because he's feeling them in the present and poems are words gone and written... his feelings haven't been written yet UNTIL THEY ARE and he writes poetry on her

I LOVED the depth of pain and longing we got when he left and the pain of heartache because somewhere in falling in love she knew something MORE waited, that it seemed temporal and limited but they couldn't help it anyways

I think I might have been left shattered irreversibly if they hadn't found each other again🥺

Instead my heart is shattered but in the same way they pick up the pieces to heal again, the ending did the same to me...

And the title made me realise and wonder that even if you dressed the stone in all the silks and simple luxuries that Tae did, because a part of him WAS stone and turned hard by pain and bad experience... even all the silks couldn't hide it and eventually though... the stone did crack and he was alive again

And also Tae's safe space was a glass sphere and MC became the stone that caused the cracks in the transparent surface... because it WAS a safe space, it did feel like safety... but it was lonely and isolating and confining

And maybe SHE was the silk and stones for him

Dressed in silks

The stone chipping away at the hardened barriers

Until they crumbled

so… i went to reread s&s before answering your ask, and combined with whatever i put in there and your words, i'm left a mess :') i don't usually say this about my own writing, but something about this fic is so truly beautiful. i wish i was able to write like that today, bc god. it's a piece.

i'm so glad the fic felt vintage to you.. i was definitely opting to make it feel nostalgic and poetic, and very very heartbreaking, so i'm beyond thrilled that you said what you said. and the poetry 🥺 !! just like s&s tae, i don't find that genre very easy, so coming up with a poem that was as meaningful as pretty was difficult lol. so yeah thank you <3 also, if i spoke about everything you mentioned, i'd still be sitting here tmrw, bc i'm in my feels lol but i do want to mention a couple things..

the fact that you recognised that he was speaking in fragments and kept adding to the poem as his feelings grew is so important. like, every single time he spoke a line of a poem, he was trying to indicate how he was feeling about her that day. like only wanting to kiss the air that lately kissed her – perfectly aligned with his urge to kiss her, too. other than that, i love LOVE how you interpreted the fic's title.

tae was certainly colder and harder when they first met than he was at the very end. she replaced those stones with a beating heart, and made all of him feel silky and cotton-y – then again, she was the stone breaking that glass cube, too. she broke it the moment he saw her walking up that hill. she replaced the cold of the glass with warm nature, and showed him that he wasn't supposed to feel cosy in his loneliness. that he only liked being alone bc that's when he couldn't hurt anyone and wallow in his pain. she showed him that with her, he could have something far better than an empty cube – which is home, right with her. reality was better than his dreams, and she was just that reality, yk?

so yeah, you're so fkn right. honestly, this made me tear up. i forgot how much i love this story bc it's so lowkey and not many ppl have read it, but just. ugh, thank you so much for reading it and for reaching out. your message is truly so much more meaningful than you might know, so yeah. i love you, i do <3

[viciouslyfilthy]

*You've got mail! The gold paper has an ornate, glittery frame around the paragraphs of the letter. The header totes that it was proudly delivered by the 'Goldberg Telegraph Service', whatever that is.

In crudely written handwriting, it says;

-----

Greetings.

I am an affiliate of the Charles "Nunya" that contacted you previously.

I discovered his unauthorized exchange with this organization when he attempted to launch a missile into the vacuum of space. Needless to say when, when approximately fifteen twelve-gallon barrels of blood were found stored within, I became suspicious.

I have not the faintest idea how he got this address, so to speak, and I apologize for any annoyance his idiocy caused. Still, I intend to keep his ill-advised promise regarding the blood.

I will take care of traveling to your version of reality, but I would appreciate it if you sent a guide for when we arrived. I would recommend sending who you deem to be the most competent.

-The Undertaker

(From the desk of @lenorethequietbookkeeper)

Once again, the outer looks of the letter caught the deity's attention almost immediately once his eyes rested upon it. This one was deliciously decorated, so- he already went into reading it with positive expectations.

And positive they were indeed, as Sün bursted out laughing soon after processing what events had taken place; he struggled to keep a straight face whilst going through the letter. This was comedy gold!

Some mortals were genuinely entertaining with their lack of intelligence. Especially those that, for some reason, had their hands on magic spells to send letters to another fucking realm, and still not realize that another dimension does not equal to the vast nothingness that is space itself. Goofy. Goofy in-fucking-deed.

Sün took his sweet time to process a (mostly) well-mannered reply to whomever poor soul had to take care of Charles' stupidity, still having a laugh or two over the thought of an unnamed amount of barrels filled with blood just floating around their solar system.

"Greetings, you poor, miserable worker. I would not be surprised in the slightest if you were Charles' caretaker or spoonfeeder, it sounds like a more pitiful existence than being one of Claude's opossums.

I appreciate your...concerns, however- I'm afraid I will have to resort to sending one of my guardians to get that blood. No mortals, or other creatures of any kind, are allowed in my realm without my strict permission you see. This place is sacred to me, it is a safe haven, it is Heaven itself for my devoted followers even. I don't just allow anyone to step foot in here for deliveries. All letters that I recieve manifest in one of my rooms, my mail room, via a little ritual; it's nothing too complicated like summoning a demon- just draw my symbol and writing my name in the center, make your letter look nice if you wish for me to get to it sooner, you have not disappointed me with that last one, I must say..."

He paused, playing around with one of his many rings that rested on his fingers.

"I'm...unfamiliar, with how your little Charles Nunya might've even come across my symbol or my name in general, I suppose anything will spread like wildfires in-between humans. Whatever the case, I must ask that you give me the exact direction of where you are located, whatever dimension or alternate world it may be. Expect someone affiliated with me to come knocking on your door very soon, mr. Undertaker..."

[glitternightingale]

Yeah so I'm also here post-animation process video drop and your brilliant break-down about Bruno's belly. Hi! I’m not on Tumblr and hope you mind a long ask in lieu of reblogging/adding to your OP.

The confirmation has been validating, is one big thing. But is it weird that with regard to the three whats/whys in your break-down (artistic choice, chub, malnutrition), I was like “ah but couldn’t it be a little, or be some combo, of all three?" - said with an intonation à la Mirabel’s "and I think it's all because of me?" I think I'm a bit of the mind that his belly is round (and "disproportionate") more due to malnutrition than from having actual healthy adipose, based on its shape? and stuff, but that's probably me reading way too into things.

There's this other part of me that's also like, what are the chances that someone like Jared Bush, who does answer questions about the canon on his Twitter, would further confirm… or maybe not confirm per se, but shed a lil insight into some of the choices?

And and: have you been able to compare the 1st and final passes at the chase scene animation? I’m no artist, but I feel like I noticed a few differences between the two Brunos (using side-by-side screen grabs bc I am 100% Like That). Ex. when he’s running toward the camera and goes to leap for the pipe: in the 1st test his stomach actually looks larger than it does in the final test; and, in the final his chest/rib cage/sternum area... and kind of his whole frame tbh... look smaller and more... shrunken/visible. Which I’m sure makes sense since it’s the final version and stuff like the muscle rigging(?) gets tweaked, but I just found the changes interesting in light of your post, the discussion, and because process stuff is cool.

This is all over the place, sorry! Last thing I swear: I love your fic, WAACH - and your art! More and more with each chapter. Always so happy seeing a telltale alliterative title in an email from AO3 :)

Oh, it could definitely be all three! I actually only broke it up into sections to structure my mess of thoughts on the matter. Well, then I forgot to point out exactly that. 😅

Here's the link to the referred post: Bruno's Belly: Artistic Choice? Chub? Malnutrition?

Bruno's Belly (2): Artistic Choice? Chub? Malnutrition?

When I wrote the first little meta about this topic, I was also really thrown off by the frames you mentioned:

(I tried my best to keep them comparable, but the more rendered version is from a slightly different, more dynamic perspective.)

And then we have this, where his belly disappears completely:

I know nothing about professional 3D animation, but this difference really strikes me. It doesn't seem to serve the purpose of exaggerating the action (like stretch and squash, for example), so where -- and why -- did it go?

Please, if anyone who reads this is brave enough, ask Jared Bush on Twitter! I need a concrete explanation. 😭

I once came upon a post where people were discussing the notion that these two Brunos aren't even the same model in the final version of the movie (correct me if I remember it wrong):

At least there's continuity where Bruno's wrists and ankles are concerned and that is that they are skinny all the time:

Here's my humble opinion on the matter in general:

I absolutely agree with your take, anon, and I think that it makes too much sense for it to not be canon. I believe Bruno is malnourished (as mentioned in my latest part of WAACH) in both meanings of the word. My fic works with the implications that Bruno had too little food (and that it wasn't of great nutritional value), as well as a diet with little variety.

Extra:

I'm so glad you enjoy my fic! I'm always really scared that I'll ruin it with my updates and that everyone who keeps up with it will be disappointed. BUT! The next installment will be called "Building The Base" and you can already guess from the first letters who it'll focus on. 😉

[the-bau-quinjet]

hiii! i don’t know if you have done this but can you do a hotch x reader where they get kidnapped by tobias instead of reid? xx

4 Months

Warning: Criminal Minds level violence, drugs, torture, rabid dogs

Word Count: 3562

a/n: I decided to switch up some of the specifics, just to make it a bit more fun to read. I hope you like it :) Also, we're pretending Rossi was there bc he is really the father of the group and it fit better than having Gideon 🤷‍♀️

Masterlist

"JJ, we have to split up." You barely looked back at her, missing the nervous expression on her face as you ran toward the cornfield. "I'll take the field, you take the barn."

You slowed to a brisk walk as you neared the cornfield, raising your gun in front of you. You couldn't help but think about how pissed Hotch would be if he knew what you were doing.

You shook off the thought, knowing he would do the same if the roles were reversed.

Spotting movement, you moved farther into the corn, trying to spot any signs indicating which way Tobias went. A bent corn husk was the last thing you saw before the world went black.

-

"He's not a witness. He's the unsub." Hotch's eyes went wide as he realized you and JJ were there without backup. "Call JJ, now." He instructed Morgan, taking out his own phone to call you.

Hotch's eyes met Morgan's as both calls went unanswered. No words were exchanged as everyone ran out to the SUVS, putting on bulletproof vests as they went.

Hotch was nervously tapping the steering wheel the entire drive to Hankel's house. He couldn't stop replaying your last conversation.

"Y/N, you and JJ go talk to Hankel. Find out if he saw anything." Despite his stern expression, you could tell his eyes were smiling at you.

"Sure thing." You nodded, mouthing 'I love you' before turning to JJ.

That's it. He didn't even have the chance to mouth it back. JJ would've seen, and even though the team has theories about your relationship, you haven't confirmed anything yet.

He pulled into the driveway, running up to the house, gun out before anyone could stop him.

Prentiss followed Hotch, Morgan and Reid took the left, Rossi and a local cop took the right.

They tore through the house, clearing it with fierce determination, but came up empty.

"It's clear." Rossi called, joining Hotch and Prentiss in the living room. "Where are Morgan and Reid?"

Hotch spared a glance out the window, discovering the barn likely being cleared by the missing agents.

Everyone ran out of the house, arriving outside the barn just as Morgan and Reid lead a distressed JJ outside.

"What happened?" Hotch questioned, glancing over JJ's shoulder into the barn. Clearly you weren't there, but he needed to hope.

"We split up. Y/N went into the cornfield... I had- I had to shoot them." Her voice was detached, eyes glazed over.

"The dogs." Morgan clarified, leading JJ to a paramedic.

"Dammit. The house is clear. No sign of Y/N or Hankel." Hotch ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind. The worry was nearly overpowering, but it wouldn't help find you.

The sheriff approached, removing his hat. "A deputy two towns over gave directions to a man matching Hankel's description. He's headed for a hunting lodge."

Morgan nodded to Prentiss. "We'll check it out."

-

Your head was pounding. A vile scent reached your nose, causing your eyes to flicker open. You flinched at the closeness of the man in front of you.

"Tobias..." The name slipped out in a whisper.

"They're not here. It's just me now." He stated, calmer than you would've expected.

"Who are you?" You asked, trying to portray a fake sense of calm.

"I'm Rafael." He pulled out a revolver, adding a single bullet to the six chambers.

"No. You don't have to do this." Your heart ached, fear gripping your body as he aimed the gun at you.

"It is my duty to enact God's will." He said, right before pulling the trigger.

-

Hotch pulled back into the driveway, leading Garcia into the house.

"His computer setup is in there. If there's even a hint of where they might've gone, I need you to find it." Hotch gestured to the back room.

Penelope nodded. Carrying her own computer bags, she followed Derek into the depths of the house.

"What've we got?" Hotch questioned those remaining around the table.

"He knew he could throw us off, pretend to be looking for a hunting lodge." Emily spoke quickly.

"We've got piles of information, journals, notebooks. We're still sifting through it all." JJ added, shirt still bloody from yesterday.

Just then, Reid rushed in from another room. "The walls in the bedroom, they are covered in the latin phrase 'honora patrem tuum', honor thy father."

"Garcia, look for anything you can find about his father." Hotch gave out orders, but his focus was elsewhere. What was happening to you?

"Over here!" Morgan called from outside.

The team ran around the house to see Morgan opening a cellar door. Nodding slightly, Hotch and Morgan made there way inside.

"Tobias Hankel, FBI." Morgan shouted, receiving no answer.

They quickly found the dead body of none other than Hankel's father. Even the new information did little to calm the worry brewing inside of Hotch.

-

"Confess your sins." He ordered.

"My sins? I don't have any sins." You did your best to hold back the tears, trying to figure out who you were talking to.

"Everyone has sins. Confess, and you will be forgiven." He stared you down, waiting for a response.

You simply shook your head, mouth slightly agape. The smell was getting to you. You couldn't think straight with the pain in your head.

"I- I don't know what-"

"YES YOU DO. CONFESS." He hit you, whipping your head to the left.

-

"Hotch, he took drugs to escape. Dilaudid cut with a psychedelic." Emily relayed the information her and JJ got from Tobias's sponsor.

"We've got something too. The dates in his journals don't add up. He was talking about his father as if he was alive months after he killed him."

"His father beat him, preached about sin." Emily replied, putting the pieces together alongside Hotch.

"Split personality. Profile the father. He could be the key to finding Y/N." Even just saying your name he felt his heart clench.

-

"Who are you?" You questioned him as soon as he walked through the door, trying to figure out who you were dealing with this time.

"Tobias." He moved about the cabin almost nervously.

"Who was here before?" You knew Rafael, but the other personality was a mystery.

"My father." Definitely the most violent. He was who you had to look out for. "I'm sorry if he hurt you."

Tobias looked over you newly forming bruises before pulling off his belt.

"No. No what are you doing?" You felt your heart rate increase as he wrapped the belt around your arm. You could barely register the words he was saying, something about escaping from the pain.

"Please. I don't want it. I'm fine." You begged, tears brimming your eyes. He ignored your pleas, injecting the drug into your bloodstream.

Despite how much you hated it, you felt the relief he was talking about. The pain was gone, even if just briefly. You thought about your time spent with Hotch. It didn't feel like long enough. You wanted more. You had so much you wanted to do with him.

"Aaron..." You mumbled his name between kisses. "They could see us." You did little to stop him, despite your words.

"We should tell them." He whispered against your mouth, holding you close. "They would be happy for us."

You sighed blissfully, forehead pressed against his. "Really? You know they've got a pool going to see when we'd finally get together. Who do you think had money on 4 months ago?" You laughed into his neck, pulling him closer.

"My bet's on Rossi. He knows us both too well." Aaron smiled, a full genuine smile.

"You're probably right, but just to make it interesting, I'm betting Reid. He's too observant not to have noticed." You squinted at the window, knowing Reid was staring at the closed blinds on the other side.

That earned a laugh, one you could feel in his chest pressed tightly to your own.

"I love you." He kissed your head, content to hold you for a little while longer.

"I love you too." You leaned ever farther into him. "We can tell them when we get back from this next case."

"Deal."

-

"Get in here!" Reid called from the computer room, pointing to a screen where you were being broadcast. You were handcuffed and tied to a chair, clearly beaten.

"Pick one to die." The voice of Tobias could be heard, despite him not being visible on the screen.

You shook your head, staring into the camera. You wanted to plead for Hotch to save you, but you knew it wouldn't be fair. He didn't need that on his conscience.

"Choose one, and I will free another."

You shook your head again, trying to think of a clue you could give the team. "I won't let you hunt them like a poacher."

"Now. Or I will kill them all." He threatened, lifting you from the ground.

"I'll pick who lives." You stuttered, breaths coming fast and short. "The right screen."

You were forced to watch as he turned off the camera, leaving the screens to show the heinous murders he was about to commit.

Suddenly, Rossi was talking to you through the screen. The sight of him nearly brought you to tears.

"Y/N. This isn't your fault. None of it. You can't blame yourself. We will find you, but I need you to be there when we do."

You knew exactly what he meant. You were already blaming yourself, despite Rossi's father like relationship with you, it was hard to believe him.

It did give you the strength to remember the team though. You needed to see them, all of them, again.

-

"He's back!" Morgan called everyone in to view the screens again.

"Confess your sins." They watched as he beat you.

You cried. You begged him to stop. You begged Tobias for help, but nothing worked.

Hotch felt his heart break even more with every word.

Suddenly, you were on the ground, still tied to the chair. You were seizing, Charles Hankel watching as it happened.

The screen went dark, causing Hotch to punch the desk.

"Dammit." He shouted. He didn't care if his worry was beginning to poke through the surface. He needed to find you and he needed to do it now.

"The timestamp." Emily's voice drew him out of his head. "There's only a few minutes between the time of death and when it was posted. He's got to be close to the crime scene."

Finally. Something that felt like progress.

-

They watched the screen as you appeared again.

"Choose one to die." It was Rafael this time.

"I can't. I can't do it." Your face betrayed every emotion you were feeling inside.

"Pick one." He stated again.

"Me. Kill me." You nearly begged.

"You said you weren't one of them. Your team has 7 other members. Choose one of them to die."

You shook your head, fear gripping you once again as he pulled out the revolver.

"Choose." He connected the gone to your forehead, resting it there.

"No." He pulled the trigger, watching as you flinched.

"Choose." You shook your head, tensing as he pulled the trigger again.

Hotch felt his heart in his stomach, internally begging you to just say a name. He couldn't watch you die, not like this.

"Choose." He pulled the trigger yet again at your silence.

"I won't do it." You held firm, knowing you had limited chances.

"Choose one to die."

You opened your mouth, panting as an idea came to you.

"I choose... Aaron Hotchner." Your heart ached even saying it, but you needed to give him a clue. "He's a classic narcissist. Thinks he's better than everyone. He'd go to his grave knowing he was wrong." You winced internally, trying not to give away your plan.

Hotch left the room, trying to understand your words. The two of you had just argued about the definition of classic narcissism.

"I think you're wrong." You laughed at his amused expression.

"Yeah? Or do you just like making me exasperated?" He questioned your motives, pulling you closer as you laid in bed together.

"Maybe a little bit of both." You shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "Promise me something?" You asked, a nervous expression on your face.

"What?" He looked at you with so much concern, you felt your heart beat a little faster.

"If... If I die, you can't blame yourself." He opened his mouth to protest, but you kept going. "I know you Aaron. You'd take it to grave thinking it was your fault. I can't let you do that. Not when I know you blame yourself for Haley's death." You felt your heart break for him and the pain he had been through. "Promise me." You were nearly begging.

"I promise." He whispered, his throat tight at the idea of losing you.

He was brought back to the present by the sound of Rossi's voice.

"Hotch, you know Y/N didn't mean any of that." Rossi tried gently, unsure of how Hotch was coping with your situation.

"I'm not a narcissist. What's my worst quality?" He looked at the apprehensive looks everyone was giving him. "I'll start, I have no sense of humor."

He nodded along as his team listed his faults.

"None of you said I ever put myself above the team, because I don't. Y/N and I just argued about the definition of classic narcissism." He paced, trying to put it together. "I'd take it to my grave... Grave was a hint."

"What? How do you know?" Reid shook his head, trying to understand the logic.

"I made a promise. It's a long story." He shook his head, trying to clear the memory so he could focus. "Y/N knew I would remember it."

"A cemetary. It's got to be a cemetary." Morgan added.

"No cemeteries on the map." Garcia was typing away on the computer.

"Like a poacher." Reid whispered, staring at the screen.

"Reid?" Hotch looked at him, eyes pleading for an answer.

"That's what Y/N said in the first video. 'I won't let you hunt them like a poacher.'" He said it louder, more excited than before.

"Garcia, any reports of poaching in the area?" Hotch asked, the idea of finding you causing hope to erupt in his chest.

"Yes, at Marshall Parrish... and there's a cemetery on the grounds." She gave them the address, watching as they ran out to the SUVs.

-

"I'm sorry." Tobias said it so softly, you were almost certain you didn't hear it at all.

"Wh- why?" Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, trying to make sense of it.

"He'll win. In the end, he always does." He rose from the crouched position, slowly injecting you with more drugs.

"Hotch!" You screamed, feeling arms restraining you from behind.

You watched as he went into the hostage situation, unarmed and without a vest.

"Derek. Let me go!" You struggled in his grasp, straining to get free.

"There's nothing you can do, he's already inside." He stated the truth, although it did little to calm your nerves.

You settled down, throat tight with worry. You bit your lip, eyes flitting between the door and windows. You just needed a sign, anything to say he was alright.

The sound of a gun firing stunned you. You were frozen in place, fear consuming you. You had just told him you loved him for the first time this morning. What if you never get to say it again? What if that's all the time you got.

You stared in horror as everyone ran toward the house, only to freeze when a voice shouted everything was fine.

"It's fine." He huffed, carrying the small child out of the house toward a waiting EMT. "Baxter is dead."

"Aaron..." You whispered the name, realizing how powerless you felt when he was in danger. The two of you made eye contact across the yard, a reassuring look in his eye.

"Aaron..." You whispered, blinking rapidly as you slowly came to.

"What about Aaron." Charles. Tobias's dad was back.

"I couldn't stop him. I couldn't keep him safe." You muttered to yourself, not fully understanding the situation.

"Is that a confession?" He asked, voice hard.

"Yes." It was more of a breath of air than a word, but it was all he needed to condemn you.

He unlocked your handcuffs, forcing a shovel into your newly freed arms before dragging you outside.

"Dig." he instructed plainly, watching over you as stray tears wet the ground beneath you.

-

"Clear." Morgan called from one side of the shed.

"Clear" Hotch replied from the other. With the whole team in the small space, it wasn't exactly necessary but it was habit.

Hotch could feel his nerves picking up again as he realized this meant you were still with Tobias. He paced back and forth, feeling powerless.

"Spread out. They have to be on foot." He left without waiting for a response, turning left with JJ to look for you.

-

You did your best to stall, but Charles wasn't the most patient.

"Dig faster."

"I'm trying. I'm trying." You whimpered, movements speeding up ever so slightly. The massive knife in his hands causing your own to shake.

"You're weak. Move." He huffed, throwing his jacket to the ground before ripping the shovel from your hands.

A flash of light in the trees caught your eye. Flashlights. Your team. Aaron.

Your eyes flickered between the man in front of you and the trees, causing him to turn.

You took the split second he wasn't looking to grab the gun from his jacket, swiftly aiming it as he turned back to you knife raised.

"Only one bullet in that gun." He lunged for you, falling backwards after you pulled the trigger.

You dropped the gun, quickly tossing the knife away.

"Tobias?" You cried, moving back toward him.

"You killed me." He seemed surprised, but grateful at the same time.

You felt the tears pouring down your face as you apologized.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." You grabbed his hand, watching the light fade from his eyes as he asked one final question.

"You think I'll get to see my mom again?"

You barely registered the arms around you, pulling you to your feet. You couldn't take your eyes off of Tobias. He wasn't the one who hurt you. He helped you, or at least tried.

"I killed him." Your breathing picked up, vision blurring.

"Y/N, look at me." You turned to the voice, blinking rapidly to stop the tears.

"Aaron?" You took a stuttering breath, trying to make sure this was real.

"I'm here. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe now." His words were just as reassuring to himself as they were to you. You caught JJ's eye over Hotch's shoulder, quickly moving to hug her.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never should've-" You cut her off.

"None of this was your fault. It was my idea to split up. I'm so sorry." You cried into her shoulder, knowing how guilty she must've felt.

She hugged you back, tears brimming her own eyes at seeing you alive again.

She lead you to the EMT, not commenting on the look you threw over your shoulder at Aaron. He quickly followed you to the ambulance. JJ left you to talk to Hotch, who stayed beside you the entire time the medics looked you over.

"I didn't mean it." You said when you were finally alone, sitting between the open doors of the ambulance.

"What?" Aaron questioned, his mind not following your own train of thought.

"When... When I had to choose. I didn't mean any of it." You could feel the tears coming, but this time you did nothing to hold them back.

"I know. I knew the whole time." You brushed your tears away, looking you in the eye. "I love you so much." He whispered, his own eyes feeling watery.

"I love you too." You leaned into him, relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. You couldn't help but look over at the team, all of whom quickly pretended not to be watching. You huffed a laugh.

"Yeah, I think they're going to have some questions." Hotch smiled, glad to see you happy even if just for a second.

"After this case, right?" You looked back at him, confirming you still wanted to share your relationship with the team.

"Deal." He smiled, arm tightening around your shoulders to pull you closer.

-

You couldn't help but bring it up on the jet ride home.

"So, who had money on four months ago?" You questioned, tucked into Aaron's side on the couch.

"What?" Emily raised a brow at your sudden statement.

"That's when we started dating." You grinned at her shocked expression.

"Dammit Reid." Morgan huffed, handing over the money.

"Don't forget Rossi!" Reid high fived the older man, the two grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Looks like we were both right." Hotch smiled into your hair, trying to hide his laugh.

"Yeah. We make a pretty good team." You smiled, leaning into his touch.

"I love you." He murmured, face still in your hair. You turned your face into his chest before responding.

"I love you too."

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Three. Ex-boyfriends and Mr. MoneyBags

warnings: ex-boyfriend is a dick, mentions of emotional and mental abuse, swearing word count: 933 (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

edit: omg the dates on the dms between dream and yn are SO wrong just don't look at them lol

edit 2: added another photo for Karl/yn conversation two days after posting bc I forgot it

**********

.

A wave of discomfort washed over Y/n as it alway did when talking about her ex-boyfriend. It gave her an ominously unsettling feeling in her stomach that she was not fond of. She shook her head and pretended like she couldn't hear his voice in the back of her head as she fixed her hair in the mirror. Healing, she reminded herself. Not perfect, but healing.

"Y/n?" Naomi called through the house.

"In my room!"

Naomi appeared moments later at Y/n's door. "Hey, I'm getting food, do you want anything?"

"I'm okay, thanks."

"Oh, hey, I watched Karl's stream from a few days ago earlier. You were so good."

"Thanks," Y/n thanked as she sat back down, forgetting all the disgust she felt moments ago from thinking about her past. Naomi sat on the corner of the bed. "Could you tell I was nervous?"

"Not at all. You were so funny. And George is so sweet. If only I had a friend who could set me up on a date with him..."

"Naomi!" Y/n laughed. "I've never even met him in person, how would you go on a date? Fly to England?"

"Yeah. He and I could work all those details out if you gave me his number."

"He'd fly here just to kill me if I gave anyone his number."

"Fine," she sighed jokingly. "Are you still going to Karl's later?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh. Well.... I'm hungry soooo I'm going to go get something to eat."

"Drive safe," Y/n ordered as she turned back to her computer and Naomi left the room.

"I will. Love you!"

As Y/n looked back at her computer to figure out something to cure her boredom, her phone lit up with a DM from Twitter.

She giggled to herself as she set her phone down and opened up Minecraft. She had nothing to do all day so she decided to start a stream, titling it "chill minecraft?? if any mobs ruin the chill ill actually cry??"

Y/n laughed to herself even though she knew it wasn't that funny. She didn't even bother to start with her usual "starting soon" screen, jumping right into playing.

"Hello, hello everyone," Y/n greeted vaguely as she opened the survival world she usually streamed. She had made decent progress on it, but it hadn't been long since she started it. "Hello. I'm super bored so I figured I'd stream and we can all just hang out and chill out. Is the music too loud? Can you hear it? Everyone type yes if it's good..." she paused as she waited for responses and adjusted the volume of the music accordingly.

She tried to not think about how much larger her viewer count was than usual, figuring it was probably mostly because she had been on Karl's stream not long before.

"Welcome, if you're new! Sorry if you don't find house building exciting, usually I do a lot more chaotic things but I'm determined to get my base done today. I can't keep coming home to a dirt shack."

Her chat started spamming one thing, making her roll her eyes slightly, a smile on her lips.

user3: DREAM HELLO

user6: Dream's here!!!!!

user7: DREAM

Y/n couldn't help but see the few negative comments that passed, calling her a clout chaser.

"Judging by everyone saying Dream's here, I assume Dream's here?" she said with a laugh as she continued collecting dark oak wood and making sure to replant the saplings. "Hello, sir."

user10: are they finally actually friends??? not just Twitter friends????

user16: Dream just lingering we see you sir

"Chat, should I make my real home first or the treehouse? I'm thinking the treehouse but I don't really have an idea for how to do it yet."

user1: TREEHOUSE

user2: treehouse treehouse treehouse

user4: do a cottage!!

user6: treehouse but make it on multiple trees and connect them with bridges

user11: it's so funny seeing bugsy just peacefully building bc usually I only catch her chaos streams

"Okay okay overwhelming amount of treehouse answers," she breathed out with a laugh as she looked around the forest for a good tree. "Thanks sarahnotfound for the ten gifted subs!"

A donation lit up in the corner of her screen and she read it out loud. "Face reveal when? Thank you, Jasmine, um..." she paused, thinking. "I don't know. I do want to eventually but I have no plans to or anything. I'm not ready to right now so it'll still be a while before I do a face reveal."

Donations and gifted subs continued, Y/n expressing her gratitude for each one of them. She had the base down for her treehouse as a large one came through.

"Dream!" she yelled angrily, a laugh bubbling behind it before sighing. "Thank you Dream." She looked away from the amount and read his message, which read, save some of that building for the smp. "DREAM! Why would you give me– ohmygosh. Is this your way of announcing to everyone that I'm joining the SMP? By giving me $100? I can't stand you." Her words were no threat since you could clearly hear the smile in her tone.

She glanced at chat before talking again and continuing her house. "Yeah, yeah, everyone, I'm joining the Dream SMP. But considering I'm fantastic at PVP, I'm not going to be doing much building. Sorry," she said now directed at Dream. "Maybe you can hire me to build something but I don't work for free."

A few minutes passed before a second donation from Dream came through.

yes I did announce it by giving you money and I'll do it again, under another $100 donation

"DREAM, I SWEAR—"

**********

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behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

**********

A/N: part 3 pog! lowkey don’t really like the chapter because it’s mostly a filler but i hope you guys do!! i needed to get a lil bit of background about y/n’s ex but we’ll get deeper into it later on!

let me know how y’all like this chapter!! do you prefer parts like this with mostly social media or do you like the previous ones better when there’s a lot more written??

also thank you thank you thank for all your continuous love for this series!! it seriously means so much to me and i love y’all so much lol 

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb​ @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks​ @powerpuffyn​ @itshaileyn @millavalntyne

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Let’s say England has a long-term girlfriend he knows isn’t the biggest fan of marriage bc her family had been really really pushy (before she got the heck out of dodge) about her marrying + reproducing ASAP. How might he react if she came to him and said she was kinda starting to like the general concept of marrying him — that is, the whole ‘together forever’ bit. Thanks!

I confess darling that I have been trying to finish this prompt for well over a year, and I offer my sincerest apologies that it’s taken me this long to finish it. Still, despite my tardiness, I hope you enjoy, and I thank you for your patience with me.

You had never intended to fall in love, not with the constant push of your relatives to fall in line like a perfect child.

First, marriage to someone they deemed acceptable, raising the perfect 2.5 children, followed by quietly settling into parenthood and complaisant contentment until the day you last drew breath.

Truth of the matter was, you had avoided all chances of romance for the first few years after you moved away from home, carefully slipping away from anyone who seemed remotely interested in you.

You knew your folks would have disproved such behaviour had they learnt the truth, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You had your own dreams to pursue, your own story to tell, your own life to live; you didn't need someone by your side to feel complete.

You were happy as you were, finding enjoyment in your work and figuring out your place in the world.

You didn’t need, or frankly want, anything more than that.

That was of course until you met him.

Falling in love with Arthur Kirkland had been a complete accident. He slipped past all of your defenses and took up residence in your heart as if he had always belonged there.

It started out slow enough; at first you simply knew him as a familiar face from the cafe in Waterstones, steaming cup of Darjeeling and a chocolate croissant sitting forgotten on the table in front of him, always too focused on his reading to pay any attention to the outside world. After one particularly crowded Sunday afternoon, he began to transition into your favorite dining companion, the two of you often taking turns paying for each other’s food. Slowly but surely, you began forgetting about your books, too wrapped up in conversation, and before you knew it-

You had come to love every part of him- the gentleman that you begrudgingly introduced to your parents, the rebellious and passionate activist, the cocky and playful little shit who had long ago memorised all the best ways to disarm you, and the ancient soul who cared so deeply, who still stretched himself thin most days in effort to protect each of his loved ones.

You fell in love with his voice, whispering sonnets and sonatas and sweet nothings in your ear while his arms cradled you from behind.

You fell in love with his eyes, still losing your footing sometimes when the light caught them just right, dreaming momentarily of summer forests and grassy glades and the misty dews of spring.

You fell in love with his smiles, from the satisfied grin at stirring up Peter’s ire to the breathless wonder each time you kissed or complimented him, to the bright, beautiful, blinding smile he wore when he was incandescently happy, his entire countenance iridescent from his joy.

You loved him completely- for his devotion, for his sweet gestures, for his damned impishness, for his wit, his sass, and the soft spoken affection.

You loved him: for his patience, for his recklessness, for his resilience, for his possessive pride that was somehow more charming than alarming.

He was unique, an enigma that, even after having lived together for years and dating even longer, kept you on your toes, his energy and random spouts of spontaneity proving to you that, even if you spent one hundred lifetimes with him, he would always remain a puzzle you would never fully solve.

And by God did you want to.

Arthur had stolen your heart away from you before you had even noticed he was close enough to take it, offering his own in its stead.

You had remained reluctant, confided in him your fears about settling down, how much you dreaded becoming trapped in a monotonous rut of tedium. He was quick to reassure you, showing through words and actions far more impassioned and teasing than he had ever shown prior, that an eternity with him could never be boring.

Even on quiet days, like today, with a steady drizzle painting the world in greys, Arthur humming quietly while adding another patch to his denim vest, and no other disturbance apart from the cat’s chittering at the robins playing in a puddle by the iron fence- Even now, you weren’t so much bored as you were pensive.

You had been thinking about a future with him a lot in the past few days, some irrelevant ad on your mobile about wedding venues catching your attention and slithering into the back of your mind.

What kind of wedding would he like? Would Arthur prefer something small and intimate, or would his hubris crave a larger venue, giving him yet another chance to prove to the world that he belonged at your side, no one else?  You couldn’t help but wonder if he would wear his uniform or a suit, if he would leave the rats' nest he called a hairstyle untouched, or if he would perhaps slick it back in that way that somehow made the normal rakishness disappear, a confident, refined cavalier standing in his place.

You knew of course that none of this mattered unless you actually talked to him first; as far as you were aware, he was content with the current arrangement, and he respected your views of marriage.

He had known, for a long time, just where the grim outlook stemmed from, and he never breached the subject again.

But now-

You had thought it was enough to hold his love, his faith, his vulnerabilities. But life was so fleeting, and now those few things were no longer enough.

You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, wanted the cheesy partners’ towel and flip flop sets. You wanted the physical reminder that you held his heart, the comforting reminder that he completely possessed your own. You wanted to be by his side forever, holding his hand through the good and the ill, facing new worlds and challenges and the uncertain future together.

You knew the risks, of course.

Marriage to a Nation carried an even heavier burden than the simple oath of “till death do us part.”

No, marrying Arthur would mean weaving your entire lives together, binding you on a spiritual level far surpassing mortality; it would mean sacrificing your chance to ever grow old, to eternally give yourself away: heart, mind, body, and soul.

But this was Arthur, who sang showtunes in the shower, who spent hours making silly faces at the cat, who was ridiculously competitive about Halloween costumes, the man who sat down and memorised the entirety of The Tempest in one night just for the bragging rights.

He already owned your heart, constantly invaded your thoughts and daydreams, and God knew he had long, long ago claimed your body, making certain not a single millimeter of his new territory went unexplored.

Would it really be so bad to give him your soul, too?

Glancing back up, seeing his eyes narrowed in concentration, his fingers handling the needle with expert precision, lips slightly parted, reading glasses fallen halfway down his nose-

You knew your answer.

It was always going to be Arthur for you, only Arthur.

Forever, should he have you.

But now you faced the challenge of telling him that.

It should be simple enough; you really held no more secrets from him, and he no longer bothered trying to hide anything from you. You loved how open you were with one another, cherished the honesty that served as the very foundation to your relationship.

But the truth was that you were terrified.

It had been so long since either of you had spoken of marriage, since the topic was even a thought in your minds, and-

What if he didn't want you anymore?

What if he-

"I can see the steam coming outta your ears."

The unexpected presence of Arthur's voice startled you, eyes darting back over to the very man who was unwittingly tormenting you.

He had barely moved from his earlier position, though his glasses had been pushed up into his hair and he was studying you curiously, if not bemusedly.

"You good there?"

By default, you nearly responded with an affirmative, some playful, lighthearted thing that would have dismissed his concern immediately. You cut yourself off mid-start, then, while shifting to sit properly in the armchair, you decided to push forward. "Can we talk?"

You watched as his expression shifted, revealing his concern as he tied off his thread, setting aside the patchwork and gestured for you to join him on the sofa.

There were a few awkward moments where you took up your favourite positions, Arthur tossing an afghan across the pair of you despite your insistence that you didn't need one, the flicker of a grin as you begrudgingly thanked him, and then shifting around as you both got comfortable, but soon enough-

"Alright, now; talketh at-eth me."

It was impossible to fight the smile his choice of words triggered, a reference to an inside joke so old now that you could scarcely recall its origin. Seeming to deem it a success, his own soft, reassuring smile greeted you.

"Seriously though, luv-" His hand came to rest atop your own, his fingers gently tapping a familiar rhythm against your skin. "What's troubling you?"

You were half-tempted to offer something short of sincerity, something innocuous and mundane that you could both laugh over and forget again within a few hours. Yet, you knew that if you didn't tell him now, didn't ask him now, you would never find the courage again.

"I've been thinking-"

"Ah. A scary premise in its own right."

"Oh, shut up," you retorted to his tease, smacking his arm for his troubles. He rewarded you with a grin, all fondness and mischief. Opting to ignore him, you pressed on, eyes downcast to avoid whatever judgement he may offer.

"As I was trying to say earlier, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The teasing fell off, and the worry crept back in. "I've been thinking. About us."

"O-oh?"

Were you not so consumed by your own anxieties, you would have noticed his stutter, would have seen the sudden tension in his posture, the fear in his eyes. As it was, you were completely oblivious to all of it, and made yourself continue at his prompting.

"I- I think I'm ready."

He mimed the word "ready" to himself, parroting it with utter befuddlement. "For wha-"

"I mean, I know I wasn't for such a long time, and-" Suddenly, you were off, half unhinged. Now that you had admitted the truth aloud, it was all rushing out of you, everything you had come to love about him, everything that-

A finger pressing firmly against your lips stopped you mid-tangent, and when you glanced up to find piercing, blazing emerald focused on you as if you were the very center of the universe, whatever remained of your ramblings disappeared entirely.

"What are you trying to say?"

A simple question, so easy to answer, yet it carried with it the weight of Infinities, demanding nothing save the truth, in its most basic state.

You were lost in his gravity, half-drowning in whatever this new feeling was. It was addicting, another riddle to be solved.

"Marry me."

Time stood still, the words weighing heavily in the space between you, now seemingly insurmountable despite being no more than mere decimeters.

Arthur showed no reaction, revealed no indication that he had even heard your plea, your query, your command, your request, and yet it echoed over and over in your own mind, the tone, the weight, the untimeliness-

Every facet- from your inflection to chosen tempo- crescandoed as an accusation, a mocking symphony that he would reject you, that you would be left with only the haunting strains of your ill-conceived proposal.

And yet-

There was a hesitation in his eyes, the face of a man who wanted wholeheartedly to believe what he had heard, but had been burned far too often in the past to dare allow himself hope.

"You-" His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he studied you once more, only for the suspicion to disappear again almost immediately, disbelief swiftly taking its place. "You're serious?"

It was then that you finally read his nervousness, understood the strange emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You had lead him to a precipice, the vast Unknown before you both, and-

And he was just as fragile as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping to ground you both, and offered him a nod. “If you’ll have me, anyway.”

His eyes flickered between your own, darting back-and-forth so quickly in search of a lie, of any doubts, of any hint that you were less than certain- yet you knew he would find none of that.

“What about your family?”

The question took you by surprise; in the moment, you had completely forgotten anyone else even existed.

You weighed his question carefully. Marrying Arthur would give your family leave to gloat in self-satisfaction, and you knew with absolutely certainty that they would hold it over your head for the next three decades. But looking into the eyes of the man before you, remembering all that you had already seen and done together, you found that others' opinions no longer mattered, really hadn't mattered in a long, long time.

“I couldn’t care less about them. Arth-”

Whatever you were going to say was forgotten as he closed the remaining distance between you, moving so swiftly that you scarcely had a moment to steady yourself before he captured you in a searing kiss, one of his most passionate by far.

Somehow, despite the suddenness of it all, the initial force, the intensity- 

He was being incredibly gentle, and moving slowly enough to almost be more a torment than a treat. Almost.

You found yourself lost in a daze when he finally pulled away, just enough for each of you to catch your breaths, just far enough that he could study you with rapt attention. You could have drowned in his eyes, endless greens magnetizing in their intensity. His hands were still cradling your cheeks, still holding you firmly in place, a not completely foreign expression creasing his features.

You couldn't quite place it, even as your memories shifted desperately in search of its mate.

"'If I'd have you?'" His words, a rhetorical refrain of your own mere moments earlier, were scarcely a shared breath between you, murmured in timbre so low it summoned a shiver. There was the smallest twitch of his lip, his head tilting ever so slightly as more of that damned deviousness made its presence known. "I fully intend to have you regardless, luv. But the formality of it all certainly adds a particular je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?"

You'd be damned if he knew just how that made your heart flutter, if he knew just how much weight that reassurance had lifted from your shoulders.

Carefree, content, you offered a playful smile. "Till death do us part then?"

Arthur no longer bothered trying to restrain his smile, soft and sincere in a way that left you breathless. "I'll love you till even the stars go cold, my dear."

Thanks for reading~

[yourmcu]

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

��I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

[ifmywishescametrue]

Hi!!! First of all, I am like🥺 such a fan of everything you write! And so I saw that you’re taking prompts and thought I’d try my luck. So, if you’re inspired of course, maybe you would do “I’m not leaving” or “I’m glad you’re here” (or literally any prompt from that list bc they’re all just🥺🥺) for Steve/Tony? Oh, and as a fellow Swiftie, I hope you’re ready for the Fearless re-release tomorrow !!!🤯 bc I’m looking forward to crying my way through this weekend🥲🥰🥺💖💞

hi!!! thank you so much, and I’m so sorry this took so long! but i also managed to put both prompts into it so hopefully that makes up for it lol. also the fearless re-recordings are so insanely good and the vault songs are god tier!!

Tony has a vision in his mind for the day he graduates from college. It’s been there since he was just a kid and the furthest ahead he could imagine for himself was that day. At the time it seemed like a hundred years away, and it carried an allure of freedom that was nearly unfathomable back then. 

He always thought Ana and Jarvis would be there, sitting next to his mom. Howard came and went from the vision, because sometimes Tony would dream that it would be the day he was finally proud of him and sometimes he would be out of Tony’s life completely by then. When Steve comes into his life in middle school, new to California from Brooklyn, he gets added to that vision, too. 

The reality ends up disappointing. 

It’s been a few months since Jarvis passed, a couple of years since his parents died, and even longer since Ana’s death, but it hurts a little more today. All of the empty seats make Tony’s chest ache. Steve’s absence makes it even worse, even if he understands it. It’s not the first time the army made him miss something big, and Tony knows it won’t be the last. At least he’d been apologetic on the phone. A little sad, even, which made Tony feel worse for it. 

After the ceremony ends, Rhodey slings his arm around his shoulder and Pepper walks on his other side. 

“Just once I wish they’d pick someone actually good to speak at these things,” Rhodey complains. “That was so cheesy.”

“You mean you aren’t excited for the first day of the rest of our lives?” Pepper teases. 

Tony laughs, “I thought the real low point was that joke he tried to make in the middle. Not too inspiring to imply that our degrees are essentially useless.”

“No, I love knowing that I’ve wasted the last four years.”

Rhodey hums, “Also wish he was a little more wrong about that.”

Rhodey’s family starts to call his name, waving enthusiastically from where the large group of them is huddled together. Pepper’s parents stand with them, looking so clearly like the odd ones out that it makes Tony grin. 

“I see your families are getting along just fine,” Tony says, watching Pepper’s mom bounce one of Rhodey’s cousins in her arms. 

“They’ve joined forces to nag us to death about getting married,” Pepper sighs, but there’s a fond smile on her face that betrays her. 

“Trying to get you to set a date?”

Rhodey grins, “Trying to get me to propose, actually.”

“You proposed last month,” Tony frowns and looks down at her left hand, which is surprisingly bare. “I didn’t hallucinate that, did I?”

Pepper pulls her necklace out from where it was hidden beneath her collar. The ring sits on a delicate silver chain, diamond glittering in the sunlight for just a moment before she tucks it away again. She puts her index finger to her lips to tell him to keep it quiet, and Tony laughs. 

“What did your innocent families do to deserve this?”

“There are no innocents in our families,” Rhodey says seriously. “We’re just buying ourselves some time until nagging me into proposing turns into everybody trying to plan our wedding for us.”

“My mother has terrible taste,” Pepper adds.

Waving from their families has turned into walking their way, and Tony gets sucked into the fold along with the two of them. He means to slip away after a few minutes, but no one lets that happen. Rhodey’s mom hugs him tightly and tells him he needs to eat more, followed immediately by how proud she is, and his cheeks turn pink under her attention. Somehow she wrangles him into joining them for the celebration dinner, but he can’t say that he minds much when he’s sitting with all of them. The laughter and stories take his mind off the melancholy feeling that’s been following him around lately, and it isn’t until he’s back in his quiet apartment much later in the day that he thinks about it again. 

His hand twists into the chain around his neck, dog tags clinking together. They’re the first ones Steve got, back when he was newly enlisted after high school, and the letters are worn down beneath Tony’s thumb as he traces the shape of Steve’s name. He remembers that first time Steve put them around his neck and told him to keep them safe while he was gone. It was a promise to come back, and on the worst nights they’re both a comfort and a curse. 

Leaning back against the closed door, he looks at the messy room in front of him. Finals week left him with little time for anything other than studying, and that coupled with his existing propensity for disorder, it looks a bit like a smaller tornado crossed through the apartment. Mugs stained with brown rings on the inside litter the coffee table, accompanied by pages of notes, pens, and uncapped highlighters. The blanket has fallen into a crumpled pile on the floor, and Tony is contemplating if he has the will to clean it all up when there’s a knock right behind his head. 

He assumes it’s Rhodey and Pepper, here to decompress after finally untangling themselves from their families, and he turns around to open the door with a light-hearted remark already on his lips. Whatever it was leaves his mind immediately at what he finds instead.

“Hey, baby,” Steve smiles. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

Tony means to say something in return, but all that he actually manages is a choked out sob. He doesn’t fully realize he’s crying until Steve’s hands are on his cheeks to brush away the tears. 

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs, and Tony clutches at every part of him that he can reach. He grips the rough fabric of the fatigues, clings to his arms and shoulders and back, and he can’t possibly get close enough. 

“You’re here,” Tony whispers when he eventually finds his breath again. “You’re here, you’re actually here.”

Steve’s hand strokes through his hair, and his other hand is holding on to Tony just as tight as Tony is holding on to him. “I’m here, baby.”

He isn’t sure how long they stand there like that, swaying slightly as they hang on to each other, but it must be quite a long while before he can let go again. Even then, though, he doesn’t let Steve go very far. They fall onto the couch in one tangled mess of limbs. Tony puts his chin on Steve’s chest to look at him, and Steve looks back with a soft smile that almost makes him want to cry again. There’s a small, faded scratch on Steve’s cheek that wasn’t there before, and Tony reaches out to trace it with the tip of his finger. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Tony says quietly, like if he speaks any louder, the lovely little bubble they’re in will break. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier,” Steve says again. “I really tried, but -”

Tony interrupts him with a shake of his head, “It’s okay. You’re here now.”

“I’ll be here for a while, I promise.”

Tony smiles, but there’s a dull, familiar ache in his chest at the thought that it will eventually come to end anyway. “How long do I have you for?”

Instead of answering, Steve shuffles a bit beneath him, hand worming its way into his pocket. He pulls out a folded paper and hands it to Tony, expression unreadable. Tony sits up a little to read it, and by the time he’s finished reading every single line to make sure it’s real, his hand is shaking. 

“You - you’re - discharged?” Tony stammers out. “You’re done?”

Steve nods, grin slowly forming as he watches Tony process it. “Was sort of hoping that might make up for missing the ceremony this morning.”

Tony laughs, light and carefree in a way that he hasn’t felt in four years. He kisses Steve with everything he has, paper crinkling between them, and between one kiss and the next, Steve reassures, “I’m not leaving, sweetheart. Never leaving again.”

[patchofsunlight]

Pretty Eyes | Sokka x Fem!Reader

Hello! This is my first ever imagine and I have no idea of what I’m doing, but I guess that’s the beauty of it all, right? So here we go!

SUMMARY: Y/N and Sokka do not get on well. That changes, however, after one particular night.

WORD COUNT: 6k I’m not used to writing oneshots it got so long I’m sorry if the “keep reading” thingy doesn’t work

WARNINGS: there’s a bit of kissing at the end? also I think there’s one or two cuss words. there’s some angst and mutual pining, since it’s an enemies-to-lovers. Toph is Y/N’s best friend bc I love her. and bad writing! I think it feels kinda rushed and English is not my first language so I’m not really sure how to feel about this tbh

I hope you like it! Also if you want to request something please do just ask me what I write for and I’ll tell you!!

Y/N definitely did not regret leaving Zuko and joining the Avatar and his team. It was probably the best thing she had ever done, the first step to finally forgiving herself for all the years she worked for the Fire Nation and for all the pain she caused alongside it, the first step to letting go of all the hurt she held inside her heart.

But Spirits, she couldn’t take Sokka’s attitude anymore.

“We can’t let Y/N go to the city alone, it’s a three day trip! What if she tells her Fire Nation friends we are here?”

He was the only one who hadn’t warmed up to her yet. Toph had taken a liking to her almost immediately, which Y/N firmly believed was for the sole reason of spiting Sokka, but she didn’t exactly mind. Toph was the first person to treat her like a human being and not an enemy, and she was deeply thankful for that. The first few weeks with Team Avatar were difficult — the Water Tribe people didn’t trust her, Aang was unconscious, Katara was going crazy with worry for her friend, and Sokka accused her of being a Fire Nation spy every two seconds. Siding with the Avatar in the crystal cave had done nothing for her reputation, it seemed: she was still Zuko’s friend, still a bad person, still Fire Nation scum, among other endearing titles.

Katara came around eventually, while Aang was still recovering from his injuries. At one point, the waterbender told her she was the only one not pissing her off in the Water Tribe boat they occupied, which made her smile.

And Aang, well, he was a sweetheart. She would never forget the way the small boy laughed loudly after Katara told him how she punched Azula in the face after the Fire Princess hit him with lightning, kindly leaving out the part where Azula immediately gave her a nasty burn after recovering from the surprise of a fist to the nose. 

“Come on, Sokka,” Katara countered, rolling her eyes in annoyance, “we’ve talked about this.”

Then there was Sokka, who still pretty much hated her, even as they now hid inside the Fire Nation together. “You know I’m right, Katara. You should go with her to make sure she doesn’t turn her back on us.”

“You guys know she is right here, right? Are you ignoring her or something?”

“It’s okay, Toph,” Y/N touched the girl’s arm fondly, avoiding the glare Sokka sent her way. “You don’t need to worry..”

“No, it’s not okay!” Katara snapped, letting go of the shirt she was stitching up and staring at her brother angrily. “Why don’t you go with her, then, if you’re so worried?”

“That seems like a good idea!” Aang smiled brightly from his place beside Appa. “It could be a fun bonding trip!”

“No!” Sokka and Y/N said almost at the exact time before exchanging a very confused look. Something seemed to ignite inside him just as he turned to glower at her with rage in his eyes. “Why don’t you want me to go, firegirl? Is it because I’m right?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s because you are a jerk to her all the time, but okay,” Toph muttered. Katara bit back a snicker, taking the shirt from the ground and trying to focus on it again.

“Well, I’m going,” Sokka announced, crossing his arms, “since she’s hiding things from us and trying to go to the city alone.”

“I am not hiding anything! No one else wanted to go to the city so I volunteered, it’s not that deep.”

“Well, then why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

“I don’t know, Sokka, why do you accuse me of being a traitor all the time?”

“That’s got nothing to do with this! But you did betray Zuko, who was supposed to be your boyfriend or whatever—”

“Zuko was not my boyfriend.”

“— and once a traitor, always a traitor.”

“That’s enough!” Katara interrupted, annoyance written all over her face. “We chose Y/N to make the trip to the city and I can’t take being near Sokka anymore, so you two will leave right now to get us supplies, food and clothes. Do you understand?”

“I—”

“I don’t care, Sokka! Go get your things, see you in three days.”

------

Sokka wasn’t really sure why he hated Y/N so much anymore. Hell, he was even starting to think he might actually enjoy her presence, in a way. Not that he would tell that to anyone.

She was still the enemy, even while Katara laughed at something she said and Toph clinged to her, talking her ears off about whatever was going on through her mind. She was still the enemy when Aang asked to braid her hair and when she talked to Appa and Momo while she thought no one noticed. Y/N was still the enemy while her eyes shone with delight whenever Toph made a joke and while she smiled that pretty smile of hers at Aang, and she was definitely still the enemy when his heart skipped a beat whenever she accidently looked at him without that angry look he always managed to put on her face.

Yes, Sokka didn’t like her in any way. He couldn’t like her, he refused to like her. She was from Fire Nation. Even if the others accepted her, he knew the truth — Y/N would never be trustworthy, would never be one of them.

The caves they were currently hiding in were Fire Nation territory, and the trip towards the city was long, specially since they couldn’t use Appa. After two miles, Sokka was already bored. 

“Is your Fire Nation home close by?” he questioned, a hint of accusation in his voice. Y/N didn’t spare him a glance and, for some unknown reason, Sokka felt annoyed by it.

“No.”

“Well, then where is it?” he pressed, staring at her.

“Where is what?”

“Your Fire Nation home.”

“I don’t have one, Sokka. Are you done?”

The Water Tribe warrior scoffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, “you don’t have one, firegirl? Yeah, right. I’m sure you lived in a big house where everyone did every little thing you wanted them to,” he watched as she sighed, her eyes flooding with irritation, “am I wrong?”

It was her turn to scoff, “shut up, waterboy.”

He raised his eyebrows, “waterboy?”

“Come on, the quicker we do this the quicker I can be away from you. We have no time to lose.”

------

They set up camp in the woods near a small village halfway to the city. While walking, they didn’t speak much besides Sokka’s stupid questions and Y/N’s dry answers — he noticed how she acted different now they were alone together, almost as if she had closed up on herself and, ignoring the stinging in his chest, he wondered if she would ever smile and laugh with him the way she did with the Aang, Toph and Katara. With a certain heaviness to his thoughts, Sokka concluded that no, she probably wouldn’t. Not that he cared, obviously.

“I can do first watch,” he let her know, watching carefully as Y/N yawned and arranged her sleeping bag on the hard ground.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’ll wake you up when it’s my turn to sleep.”

Y/N nodded, falling asleep almost instantly as she laid her head down. When she slept, she didn’t look like a traitor as much as she usually did. She looked like a normal, beautiful girl he would really love to get to know better. But of course he couldn’t, because she was from the Fire Nation and would eventually betray them all, or at least that’s what Sokka told himself to avoid getting too close, too attached. Spirits, he had lost so many people that adding one more person in his care-about list was unthinkable, unreasonable and just all-around stupid.

Sokka wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Y/N started moving in her sleep, her previously peaceful expression now filled with anxiety and fear as she turned and tossed. He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her curiously.

“No,” he could hear her mutter, “please, no. Please.”

“Y/N?” his voice was calm as he knelt down by her sleeping bag, recognizing the signs of a nightmare. “Y/N, wake up. It’s just a dream.”

“I’m sorry,” she cried out, her eyelids shut tight, “please. I’m sorry!”

“Y/N!”

The girl sat up suddenly, hitting her forehead with his. Sokka groaned at the sudden pain, bringing a hand up to his forehead and touching it lightly. Meanwhile, Y/N took in her surroundings, her breathing heavy. She could already feel a lump forming inside her throat.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment, finally noticing her panicked motions and moving forward to touch her shoulder but hesitating. Sokka would usually greet her with a mean comment, but he could see the nervousness on her face and it worried him. “Do you need some water?”

“No, I’m good,” she swallowed, trying to slow down her breathing. “I just—just got a nightmare.”

“I noticed,” the Water Tribe warrior smiled sadly, “I get those too.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, trying to wrap her head around the fact Sokka was actively being nice to her. It felt weird but had a kind of warmth taking over her chest that she didn’t mind one bit.

He scratched the back of his neck, staring at her while she kept her eyes trained on her own hands, “do you want to talk about it?” He noticed her intrigued expression and sighed, going on, “Katara always tells me that talking about nightmares makes them go away. So… Do you want to talk about yours?”

Y/N looked at him attentively, searching for some type of mockery or teasing on his face. Sokka seemed to blush under her gaze, but she was sure it was just the moonlight tricking her eyes. Y/N exhaled deeply, crossing her arms in a defensive stance and biting down on her lower lip as she couldn’t find any bad intention in his gaze, deciding to share some of the vulnerability he was offering her. “It was just something that happened some years ago. Before I left with Zuko, I mean.”

He nodded, leaning on his hands with his arms straight while sat beside her, “I never understood why you left with him, to be honest,” he commented, “he doesn’t seem like the fun type.”

Y/N let out a small smile and Sokka could swear his heart jumped inside his chest for some reason, “he was never the fun type, but he was still my best friend, even though banishment changed him. But I didn’t leave just because of Zuko.”

That was new information. “You didn’t?”

She shook her head, looking down at her hands again, “no.”

“Then why?”

Sokka observed as her entire body tensed and felt the immediate urge to apologize for the question and tell her to go back to sleep. Before he could open his mouth, however, she answered in a broken voice that sounded nothing like her own, “I couldn’t stay. My dad had just died in the war and my mom…” her eyes were full of anguish and misery, still watching her fingers lock and unlock, “she wasn’t doing very well. My nightmare,” she hesitated, inhaling sharply before training her gaze on him again, “it was about her.”

They looked at each other, lazy eyes studying faces with a new curiosity and innocence they hadn’t held for one another before. Something flashed through Y/N’s expression before she asked, averting her pretty eyes from him, “do you want to see it?”

Sokka furrowed his brows in confusion, “see what?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath before raising her tunic slightly. The Water Tribe boy felt his whole face flush with embarrassment but he noticed the marks before he could look away — something that must’ve been a horrible burn, the scar covering a great part of her right side, stretching from her bellybutton to just under her chest. “Iroh spent a lot of time changing mine and Zuko’s bandages in the first months after we left,” she smiled sadly and then put her clothes back into place.

“Your mom did that?”

“She didn’t mean to,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “it was an accident, but still. Whenever I think about it, I’m really glad I was born a non-bender.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Having the power to cause so much pain and destruction… I wouldn’t want that in anyway.”

Sokka hummed in understanding and appreciation. He knew she was a non-bender like him but they had never really talked about what that meant to them and to Team Avatar. He wasn’t aware she didn’t crave bending like he did, but it felt nice to hear her speak about it like that.

Showing someone her scar felt… Different, but not a bad different. Y/N had grown accustomed to hiding it all the time, even though she didn’t feel ashamed of it. It was just an ugly part of her that held too many bad memories that she intended to keep to herself. Letting Sokka see it was strange and she didn’t know exactly why she did it, to be honest. It felt right, though. Talking to him like they were friends felt right. Being around him like that felt very, very right.

“You should sleep, waterboy,” she punched his shoulder softly, ignoring her own thoughts, “I’ll keep guard for the rest of the night.”

He was quick to deny, “no, I’m fine, you should—”

“Sokka,” her tone was demanding, “you need to rest too. Come on, get some sleep. I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep again anyway.”

He would love to disagree but he recognized the look on her face. She wasn’t asking him to sleep — she was telling him to. For some reason, that thought made him smile.

“Okay,” Sokka answered quietly as he got into his own sleeping bag, “good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Sokka. Sleep well.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“It’s alright.”

------

The rest of the trip was better than expected. It seemed like that one vulnerable moment they shared affected their relationship in more ways than one, and they traveled peacefully to the city and back. They even managed to spark conversation with each other in some instances.

Sokka would love to say that being in good terms with Y/N made him satisfied, but that would be a lie. Aang, Katara and Toph were really happy with their new dynamic, glad they could talk to each other without mean comments or accusations — Y/N and Sokka were the only ones inside the Gaang who still had to become friends, and now that they did, everyone seemed pleased and content.

Except Sokka.

Being around her was difficult. Now that he didn’t expect the worst of her all the time, he couldn’t ignore what he felt whenever she was close by, the sensations he once thought were just his way of feeling disgust and anger taking a different shape. He would catch himself smiling stupidly at her while she laughed with someone else and would feel his whole face reddening when she looked into his eyes. However, he remembered very clearly the last time he felt something like that, and it didn’t end well. He couldn’t have that again.

Avoiding her was even more difficult and he couldn’t keep it up for a single day. After finally being able to taste what a friendship with Y/N felt like, he couldn’t stop from craving it more and more. Instead of being away from her like he intended so he could get rid of whatever feelings he was gathering, he actively went out of his way to be near her, even when his mind screamed at him to just let go.

Sokka couldn’t get attached to someone like that once more. He couldn’t forget what happened to Yue — liking someone was not his cup of tea, it would end tragically and he didn’t want it, couldn’t have it, not again.

But a part of him entertained these feelings, these thoughts. It didn’t matter, right? She would never feel the same for him, so it was okay. He wouldn’t get hurt because he would never actually have her so there was no way to lose her.

Right?

------

Everything happened fast.

They didn’t think the Fire Nation soldiers would find them anytime soon and yet they still did. They were nearing the Day of the Black Sun and being found out in Fire Nation territory was less than ideal, to say the least. Y/N was just glad they had Toph, Aang and Katara to fight for them — they were truly amazing benders and there were many more soldiers than she would normally expect.

Everything happened too fast.

She had been taught from a young age how to fight with a sword and was slowly trying to teach Sokka too, even though teaching was proving itself to be harder than learning. They fought from the sidelines, hitting the soldiers the three benders couldn’t hit or see. One of them had a sword too and Y/N rapidly engaged in a difficult fight while also keeping an eye out for Sokka, who was fighting another soldier to her right.

She couldn’t deny the feelings growing inside her towards the boy. Weeks before, she would have straight up laughed if anyone told her she would fall for him, and now there she was. Y/N loved his smile and his voice and his stupid jokes and the way he called her “firegirl” with an endearing tone instead of the accusative one he used to always have when talking to her only weeks before. She loved how his cheeks flushed red when she looked at him for too long and she loved hearing him go on and on about his plans and theories. She loved it all so much she didn’t even mind Toph’s constant teasing: “Calm down your heart, Y/N,” the younger girl would say with a mocking smile, “it’s just Sokka!”

“Shut up, Toph.”

Y/N knew he would never feel the same, but a girl can dream, and dream she did. They would talk late into the night, guarding camp together and exchanging childhood stories. Being around him was very comforting, in a way. 

Everything happened fast.

She got distracted when the soldier battling against Sokka seemed to get the upper hand, even though Sokka fought back and took control of the conflict again easily. However, that instant was enough for her own enemy to attack.

The pain was unbearable but Y/N kept on fighting. There was blood running down her skin, staining her clothes, the wound to her ribs deep and distressing, but she couldn’t leave her friends like that. She manipulated her sword the best she could, ignoring the sharp pain felt with every intake of breath, taking down as many non-bender soldiers as possible.

They ran for Appa when there was finally an opening, climbing onto the flying bison and leaving the remaining Fire Nation soldiers behind them.

Adrenaline was responsible for making her able to endure the pain but now that they were safe and flying while Aang and Katara disguised Appa as clouds, her vision went out of focus and she stumbled, clinging to Toph’s arm in a last attempt to remain conscious and alert. “Y/N? Are you alright?” the girl asked confusedly, her brows furrowed in question.

“Yes,” Y/N was able to get one word out, even though her thoughts were getting messier by the second and black dots appeared before her eyes. “Just tired,” she muttered. It was true — she could feel exhaustion taking over her body and head, slowly making her slump over herself.

She felt like her body was on fire, almost as if she had been burned all over. The pain made it hard to concentrate, her mind trained on the feeling of blood soaking her tunic, every breath causing waves of agony to take over her. The stab wound seemed to be throbbing, unabling her of any coherent thought.

“You sure? You seem—Spirits! Katara, come here! Y/N was wounded! She is bleeding!”

A part of her brain registered a touch to her ribs, Toph’s small hands hanging over her with no idea of what to do. She could hear Katara’s voice from somewhere on her right but she knew Katara needed to keep up their cover alongside Aang. They couldn’t afford risking their disguise just yet, they were still too close to those soldiers.

(Or so she thought. She couldn’t be really sure, since her mind was clouded and she felt extremely confused, the black dots slowly taking over her vision until she saw nothing but unrecognizable shadows.)

Amongst the screams, there was Sokka. He had left his place guiding Appa and came running to her, horror written all over his face as he started to put pressure on her bleeding wound, following Katara’s instructions.

“You’re going to be okay,” his voice sounded weird, disconnected, out of place. Y/N wished she could see him properly. She had come to appreciate how beautiful he actually was, with his endearing smile and bright blue eyes. She really wished she could see him. “Stay awake for me, alright?”

“Waterboy,” she mumbled with a lazy smile before darkness consumed her entirely.

------

There was so much blood. Sokka could see how the water covering Katara’s hands was stained, he could see how soaked Y/N’s tunic was. He could see her, her skin so pale she almost looked dead. That thought alone made Sokka’s stomach turn over inside his body, his eyes stinging with anxious tears.

They did an emergency landing on a small island nearby, Katara trying to maintain their cover as Aang rushed to the reins Sokka had abandoned in his frenzy. Meanwhile, Sokka and Toph were screaming at each other in utter panic, trying desperately to help their friend somehow. His hands were still shaking and red from putting pressure on the wound like his sister had told him to. 

“What is happening?” he stopped pacing as he heard Toph’s weak voice, the small girl playing with her own fingers in nervousness. “Is Katara’s healing working?”

There was ringing inside his ears as he stared at his sister. He could clearly see tears streaming down her face as she exchanged the red water on her hands for the clean one Aang had put on a container and positioned nearby. His heart throbbed inside his chest, a million thoughts going through his head at the same time.

Y/N was going to die. He was going to lose her. He would never see her smile again and he would never hear her laugh again and she would never tell him stories about her childhood again. He would never watch her as she played around with Toph and he would never be able to peek at her as she trained her sword fighting skills anymore. He would never talk to her late at night and he would never appreciate the way her voice sounded again.

He would never feel his heart pick up whenever she walked inside a room again. He would never smile unconsciously just by seeing her smile again. And she would never know how much she meant to him, how much he genuinely liked her and everything she did.  He was going to lose her without even knowing if maybe, in a distant time, when the war was over and they were safe, she would want to stay with him, making him laugh and smiling that gorgeous smile of hers at him everyday. Sokka would never know if somehow she wanted him as much as he wanted her, with all his flaws and faults and fears.

He would never know and he would never have her by his side again and he wanted to scream until his throat was sore. He wanted to cry himself to sleep and pretend this was just a bad dream he would eventually wake up off hearing her beautiful laugh as she chatted with Katara and Toph during breakfast.

“Sokka? Please, tell me what is happening. How is Y/N?”

The Water Tribe warrior felt a sudden anger spark up inside him. He should’ve done something, he should’ve noticed she’d been hit, and so should the others. Weren’t they powerful benders? Couldn’t they sense everything through the earth or some other bullshit like that? Weren’t they better than him in every way? Well, they could have at least saved her.

“Shut up, Toph! This is your fault! You should have noticed she was wounded! You should have helped her before it was too late!”

He didn’t mean it. A part of him knew it was not her fault, but his brain was enveloped in pain and desperation and he just wanted someone to blame so he didn’t have to deal with the guilt forming in his chest. He was losing Y/N and there was nothing he could do about it.

Toph went from worried to pissed off quickly, tightening her hands in fists and sending a few rocks flying towards the sea surrounding the island, “how is this my fault?! I was fighting off a few soldiers too, you know? It’s not like I could have stopped everything I was doing and ran to her!”

He moved his arms around frantically, “you don’t even care about her!”

“I don’t care about her? She’s my best friend!”

“You obviously didn’t care enough to help!”

“Oh, you little—”

“That’s enough!” Katara’s voice sounded fragile but terrifying, averting her gaze from her bloody hands to glare at them. “I can’t concentrate with all this screaming!”

“Sokka started it!”

“I don’t care who started it!” she barked, her eyes burning with rage. “Get out!”

Sokka opened his mouth to oppose, feeling his entire body tense with the idea of being away from Y/N in such a moment, but didn’t get to as Aang took a hold of his arm and started to lead him towards somewhere else on the beach. Toph groaned in frustration before leaving in the opposite direction.

“You need to calm down,” Aang sounded serene while dragging his friend through the sand, “arguing is not going to get us anywhere. We need to be together right now to get through this.”

The Avatar turned to look at Sokka when he planted his feet in place, tears flooding his eyes. It almost seemed like Aang was telling him how they had to support each other through their upcoming grief.

He was going to lose her. Damn, he had probably already lost her. She was gone and she would never know.

“Sokka? Are you okay?”

“I—” he hesitated, trying so hard not to cry he could feel his head throb. “I don’t—,” he swallowed harshly, but the lump in his throat didn’t go away, “I can’t lose her, Aang,” his voice cracked miserably and he gave up on holding back his heartache, letting the tears fall down his face. A sob wrecked his body and a hint of understanding went through Aang’s eyes, the smaller boy coming closer to hold his forearms.

“You’re not going to lose her, Sokka. Katara is going to fix it and she’ll be okay.”

“No, she won’t,” it was getting hard to breathe between his cries, but if felt better than pretending everything was okay, “she’s gone. And I—I think I’m in love with her, and she’ll never know. She’ll die and she’ll never know.”

“Sokka—”

“This is what happens every time I have feelings for someone. I lost Yue and now Y/N too.”

“Sokka, your feelings for Yue weren’t responsible for what happened to her. She told you not to be afraid of love, remember? I’m sure she is proud of you for moving on and falling in love with Y/N, and if we lose Y/N, your feelings will not be to blame either. But we won’t, okay? Katara is going to save her, I promise. She will be fine and you will be able to tell her how you feel. Do you understand?”

Sokka felt himself crumble in pain, another sob escaping his lips as Aang hugged him tightly. He cried loudly, holding onto his friend for dear life.

“Y/N will be okay, Sokka. She is strong and she would never leave us like that, okay? Never. I promise.”

------

When Y/N opened her eyes, it was already dark. A tent had been put up around her, but she noticed the cold night breeze even before she saw the starry sky. 

She took notice of the neat bandages covering her stab wound. There was a soreness to her every movement, but the searing pain from before was gone. She exhaled deeply and tried to sit but quickly gave up at the ache that formed in her ribs. Lying on the sand, she breathed slowly.

“Y/N?” she turned her head towards the direction of who was calling her and found Toph’s grey eyes. The small girl seemed tired, rubbing the sleep of her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows as she called again, “Y/N, are you awake? I thought I heard something.”

“Hey. I’m awake,” she smiled softly, moving her arm the tiniest bit just so she could touch her friend’s leg. 

Toph immediately gave her the biggest smile, jumping up from her spot sitting down to try and hug her friend carefully, “Never do that again, you idiot!” a weak chuckle escaped Y/N as she tried to hug back, but it hurt too much. Toph didn’t mind. “You got us all so worried! Aang went crazy trying to keep everyone calm, Katara cried a whole lot, and Sokka got so nervous he screamed at me. He apologized, though, so I’m not angry at him anymore,” Toph widened her eyes in realization, “I have to tell them you’re finally awake! Wait here, I’ll come back in a second. Try not to get stabbed in the meantime.”

Y/N giggled at her words, sighing as she found herself alone in the tent. For a second, she let herself wonder: she wouldn’t be up and about for a while, that much was obvious. However, Team Avatar couldn’t deal with that kind of liability and she asked herself what they were going to do about it.

Aang was the first to arrive, hugging her so tight Katara started screaming at him to be mindful of her injuries as soon as she reached the entrance. They spoke briefly about the gravity of her wound and Katara scolded her for not telling them she had been stabbed sooner while Aang and Toph bit back their laughter.

“Y/N?” Sokka’s hoarse voice was enough to make silence ring through the tent, the bags under his eyes dark and unmissable. Y/N met his blue eyes, her heart clenching painfully when she noticed the bare sadness inside them. 

Katara cleared her throat, grabbing Aang and Toph gently and steering them outside, “we’ll be handling the supplies if you need us!”

“What? I want to stay with Y/N!”

“Spirits, Toph, shut up.”

The Fire Nation girl smiled at the arguing outside, averting his trained gaze. An awkward quiet settled between them — Y/N didn’t know exactly why there was such a heaviness to the air they shared, but it was too clear to ignore.

“I—” he hesitated, a crack to his words as he closed his eyes tightly. “You really scared me today.”

Y/N tried to sit up, frowning from the pain. Sokka immediately knelt down next to her to help and it felt too much like the night he first woke her up from a nightmare, saying soft words and treating her nicely. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, holding onto his forearms for support, “I didn’t exactly mean to.”

“I know,” he muttered in response, sitting down in front of her. She crossed her legs under her and they stared at each other for a few moments, thick tension surrounding them. She couldn’t help but notice how close they were to each other, so close she didn’t have to lean in too much for their lips to touch. Slowly and unsurely, Sokka brought his hand up to put a lock of hair away from her face. Her stomach fluttered at the touch and Y/N sighed happily. “I was just afraid.”

She blinked in soft confusion that made his insides bloom with butterflies, “afraid of what?”

“Of losing you.”

She smiled, “You know Katara would heal me, Sokka.”

“I care about you very much, Y/N,” the words stumbled out of his mouth while she stared, “more than I probably should, but I do. You,” he shook his head, hesitantly taking his hand away from her face and wiping the tears that had escaped his eyes, “you mean a lot to me.”

His heart seemed to burn while she took his hand in hers, squeezing it delicately, “you mean a lot to me too.”

He exhaled deeply, frustrated to no end. “No, Y/N. You don’t understand. I—damn, I don’t even know how to say this.”

“I get it.”

“You don’t. You have no idea how broken I was just by thinking of not having you around anymore. I was so scared. I thought I would never be able to tell you how I feel about you,” he let out a shaky breath before leading his eyes back to her face, “I really like you, Y/N.”

“I really like you too.”

He groaned, “no, Y/N. I mean that I like you.”

“Yes, I understood that much.”

“No, I mean I—” he was interrupted by her soft lips on his, moving so gently he was sure he could die from the sheer tenderness of it all. Sokka was fast to kiss her back, bringing his fingers up to hold her jaw while her hands went up to his hair, a sharp pain running through her body at the movement and making her hiss. He moved away instantly, but her arms held him close. Their noses were still touching and they breathed heavily, eyes trained on each other.

She smirked, “is that what you meant?”

He chuckled weakly, rubbing circles on her jaw fondly with his thumb, “yeah. You’re way better at confessions than I am.”

Y/N threw her head back in laughter and he grinned at her happiness, “why, thank you.”

The couple gazed at each other, eyes sparkling with love. She sighed before leaning in and giving him a quick peck, giggling when his lips followed her blindly as she distanced her face from his. Sleepiness was catching up to her from the exhaustion of being hurt.

“Come on, waterboy. Lay with me.”

Sokka helped her lay back down, lying beside her and feeling his cheeks flush with delight when she snuggled up to him, getting into a comfortable spot with her head placed on his chest. He carefully positioned his hands on her waist, stroking her side absentmindedly. Her eyes fluttered close with satisfaction.

“Did Katara ask about your scar?”

“Not really. I think she was too worried trying to save me from death and all that.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was.”

She grinned, moving to play with his hair and exhaling contently, “I’m glad you’re here.”

He tightened his hold around her, warmth coating his every touch, “so am I, firegirl. So am I.”

In that moment, Y/N cared for nothing but the way his skin felt on hers and the sound of his heart beating under her ear.

so I asked @azucanela​ @beifongsss​ and @sokkascroptop​ on anon if I could tag them when this was done and they said yes so here it is? please give me honest criticism I have no idea of what I’m doing and I admire you all very much thank you!!

[blazedgraysons]

virgin reader giving grayson a bj

a/n: i promise i’m working on requests, my life has just been incredibly busy along with me working on the no nut fic and some other exciting things for y’all!! anyways thank you for the request angel, hope you like it🤍🤍

warnings: first-time bj’s, lack of communication between these two, and grayson having a bit of innocence kink if you squint

this is a continuation of this request. you don’t have to read it to understand what’s going on here (but you should read it anyways bc it’s kinda good lmao)

---

If you were to list your worst moments when it came to love and dating, your first blowjob had to be near the top.

It was high school, junior year with some football player named Chad Daniels. You both were at a party, and honestly, the whole experience was less than extraordinary.  It only took two seconds before Chad immediately tried facefucking you. All you could remember is the pain you felt from gagging and choking and almost instantly pushing him off of you.

Needless to say, it wasn't your favorite activity nor something you were that desperate to try again. Until Grayson.

It wasn't like you were dumb; you knew how much guys love getting their dick sucked. And with Grayson doing everything he can to please you, you wanted to return the favor.

You had planned to wake him up with morning head after that first time he ate you out, something cute, intimate, and if you're honest, probably very ambitious for your first time.  

However, any worries you may have had were proven to be completely unnecessary when you woke up to Grayson licking into you. You jerk roughly awake, legs only staying in place due to Grayson's firm grip. It doesn't take long before your scream of surprise turns into moans, growing louder when you watch your insanely cocky boyfriend wink at you.

"Grayson, what the- what the fuck?" You softly moan out the last part, shuddering at the way he starts sucking on your clit.

He pops up, a cheeky grin on his face and lips red and shining.

"Morning!" He goes back down and continues working you higher and higher to your orgasm. It doesn't take long, melting under Grayson's touch. He watches your face, his expression star-struck, and just so fucking in love as he sees how he just made your body fall apart.

"You couldn't wait until after breakfast?"

"Angel, that was my breakfast." He kisses you softly, leaving you dazed as he walks to the bathroom.

It started to become a drug for him; Whether he was stressed, happy, or even just bored, Grayson was beginning to find a new home in between your legs. And with him dropping to his knees more and more, it only furthered your desire to do the same.

You started to notice. He would eat you out, make you cum, and then leave to go take care of himself. It was an annoying pattern that was being formed, but no matter what, he wouldn't let you do anything about it.

"Step-by-step, remember? This is about you." was always his answer, and while you appreciated his devotion to your pleasure, you were starting to crave him. Crave the weight of him in your mouth, the heady taste, and most of all, the visual of him cumming from your doing.

If you were ever going to take this any further,  you needed to figure out how to show him that you're not just doing this out of an obligation, but because you absolutely desire to make him feel as good as he does to you.

So you follow his advice and take it slow. You start with light brushes, lingering touches on his chest and thighs, flirty glances. Grayson notices; he makes a few quips about how touchy you've become but ultimately believing it's the result of the two of you taking your relationship further. You move on to suggestive comments, openly making jokes about blowjobs and talking about his dick. If he notices, he doesn't say anything, just laughs and shakes his head, playing it up for the vlogs.

You sit on his lap when the car is too crowded, he moves you so you're not directly on him; you suck a lollipop in front of him, he goes into another room to "finish editing." It was almost as if the roles had reversed, him now being the one to run away. You were starting to feel frustrated, thinking he was getting some twisted joy from seeing you so flustered.

So you decide to approach it head-on, bluntly asking him during lunch,

"Why won't you let me suck your dick?"

He chokes on his sandwich, staring at you, shocked.

"Angel, what?" He dramatically coughs out, and you roll your eyes at the theatrics.

"Why won't you let me suck your dick?" You enunciate, speaking slowly while raising an eyebrow. He just stares back at you, not speaking or moving before going back to his food.

"S'fine, Y/N. I can take care of myself. This is about you." He doesn't look at you when he speaks, more preoccupied with his vegan BLT (which he made so you know it can't be that damn good)

You pout, pushing your food around with your fork. It's the same response he's been giving, and at this point, you're worried you might snap if you don't get a real answer.

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that whatever you're doing with your hand is better than my mouth?" He takes a sharp breath, pushing his plate away from him.

"Enough, Y/N. I don't want to talk about it.".  If you were stupider, you would've dropped it, let him continue with his lunch, and let him go at his own pace. But you were becoming worried, wondering why he would shut you out instead of opening up.

"Gray," You move to sit next to him, playing with one of his hands as you continue. "You told me all you want is for me to be honest with you. Can you please do the same?" He sighs, taking a moment before answering,

"I'm just scared that once we start, I won't be able to stop. It's not that I don't want you to, it's just— I don't want to lose control and ruin anything for you." Whatever you were expecting couldn't have prepared you for that, and honestly, you were a little surprised. Selfishly, your fears were centered around your own insecurities: that Grayson didn't think you were good enough to, that he wasn't attracted to you, etc. As usual though, Grayson shocked you with how his universe seems to entirely revolve around you and your happiness.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. That was stupid." Grayson takes back, scared that your silence is one of fear or disgust. You place a hand on his arm, moving closer.

"Amour, don't apologize." You kiss him lovingly, feeling soft over how sweet your boyfriend can be. You pull away, kissing his cheek before continuing.

"Us taking this slow isn't just for me — it's for you too. And you know that whatever you want to do, I'm obviously down for as well" He smiles stupidly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But believe me, you've been making me feel really good lately." He perks up at that.

"And I really, really, really want to make you feel good too." You take his hand, leading him to the couch. His eyes follow your every move, not wanting to miss a single thing. You kiss him again before pulling away quickly, a thought coming to your head.

"You're gonna have to help me. I haven't done this that much." He nods rapidly, pants growing tighter with every word. He doesn't have exact words to describe it, but there's something so hot about the innocent look on your face, the way you're looking at him wide-doe eyes and waiting for his instruction. Something so pure about the knowledge that you still held onto so many of your first, yet so sinful that he was going to be the man to ruin that. You lightly lick your lips as you put your hair up, and Grayson's mouth goes dry at the movement.

"I'm pretty sure I've dreamt about this before."

"Let's hope I live up to the standards." He groans lowly as you sink to your knees.

"Trust me, you're already pretty close." His heart sinks when you rest both palms above his knees, and he can tell he's working himself up. After going a while without doing anything remotely sexual, the slightest touch sends little shockwaves straight to his dick. If the anticipation meant anything, he would probably cum the second you actually touched where he needed you most.

You unbutton his pants, sliding them down with his help. You stare at how his boxers are already tented, forming a nice bulge. Already you're feeling overwhelmed, not sure where you want to start first while just wanting to show him how much you adore him.

You watch as he slides his boxers down, and your mouth starts watering. Grayson obviously radiates big dick energy, that's no secret to anyone, and you've seen him freeball in grey sweats enough times to at least have an idea of what he's working with. Seeing the real thing, however, has you more turned on than you've been before.

"So big," You whisper, and Grayson's sure he could cum then and there from the awestruck look on your face. You kiss his upper thigh, right next to his medusa tattoo, before tentatively kissing the tip.

"Angel, please." He could cry, finally having you where he wants you, but not doing enough to relieve any of the tension he's feeling. He knows you're not teasing, not even entirely sure of what you're doing to him, and while he's usually not a beggar, he'll do whatever it takes to finally get you on him.

You nod, growing wet at his soft pleas before licking from his base to his tip. You take him into your mouth, sucking the head while watching Grayson's head fall back onto the couch. You lean back a little, spitting before taking him back in your mouth, going further than before. You continue that for a minute, bobbing your head slightly. You moan softly at your boyfriend's blissed-out expression, eyes glazed over as he looks at you sucking him off.

"Your hands, angel —use them. Please," He moans out the last part, having already added your hands the minute he said the word. You stroke up and down the part that can't fit, experimentally twisting them.

You're drooling now, covering both your chin and his dick, and honestly, your jaw is starting to hurt, but the look on Grayson's face is more than enough to keep going.

"Wait, off. Angel, get off." You pull off of him, scared that you've done something wrong. One hand is still lightly jerking him off while the other rests on his upper thigh.

"Gonna —gonna cum. Didn't want to in your mouth." He's breathless, panting to calm himself down from how you've worked him up. You push the hand away that is moving to replace yours and start sucking again.

"You're okay with that?" He questions and you nod as best you can, humming happily. Between the vibrations, how wet your mouth is, and the way your hands are moving, Grayson is done, cumming with a silent moan and eyes closing.

You take every drop, swallowing before pulling away to jerk him slowly. You watch with big eyes as he twitches and slightly jerks in your hand, riding the after waves of his orgasm. Once you feel he's finally done, you move up to sit next to him.

"How was that?" You're genuinely curious, wanting to know if it was as good for him as you thought.  He opens his eyes, pupils blown and breath still a little ragged.

"Perfect." He kisses you deeply, shivering slightly when he tastes himself. "You're fucking perfect." He moves his hand lower, already reaching for your shorts, but you stop him.

You're tired, exhausted really. So you take him to bed, silently suggesting a nap, unaware of Grayson's self-promises to make you feel twice as good when you wake up.

[bluebuckstallion]

the sun will rise again - mlp fic

part two this is part one! part two and so on will be updated/reblogged when they are out! contents: aj and big mac are like. 13 and 15. big mac realizes she is a trans woman, and is guided by applejack, but there is much more to it than just that lol. its also a little hard for her. sappy, feel-good, tough internal conflict but overall happy fic. paragraph one is previewed here, the rest is below the cut! (note: i am aware my blog makes posts a little hard to read bc of a glitch, i am trying to fix it at the moment, i apologize D: i rec reading it on tumblr mobile or highlighting the words as you read, im sorry!)

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Big Mac shuffled his hooves awkwardly. Racing thoughts fought furiously, cluttering his hurting head, and he put a weary hoof against his temple in an attempt to clear the fog. No avail. It was as strong as ever, the rushing current of rip tide sweeping him in the more he struggled. He insisted he'd never felt this way before, trying violently to shake away the thought, it made him shudder. But deep down somewhere he knew, he couldn't hide this strong feeling he'd become so familiar with. It felt like home, but he was trapped inside with the windows boarded and the floorboards were so old they were making him fall through with every step, and there were thick dusty cobwebs everywhere he tried to rest his burdened hooves. He couldn't leave. Outside of his overflowing head, there was a faint knocking at his door, though he had tuned it out completely. His thoughts whirled, and everything was making *so* much noise, the ceiling fan, the electricity in the walls, the birds outside, even the trees being rustled by the evening wind. Everything was so loud, and so muffled and far away, so close and inside his ears, they twitched eagerly trying to bat the harsh noise away, all collected into one horrid ear-piercing amalgamation of staticy sound. His fur was disturbed by his blankets, and his teeth felt uncomfortable as they grit desperately in an attempt to relax, his eyes were dry despite how much and how hard he was blinking, it felt like even the smallest thing would throw him overboard in this thundering storm of unsettlement. -

The knocking got louder. "Big Mac!" The sound was lost in the chaos of it all, but it prevailed. "Big Mac!" There it was again. It didn't quite reach him yet, though. But my, was it there. Incessant. Pounding. Oh, the headache of it all. Just adding to the pile. It hesitated. "Big Mac." The gentle coo reached him, piercing through the overwhelmingly loud silence in the air, he felt this odd choking sensation in his throat when he registered the voice, so familiar and so loving. But would it continue to be after this? The thought scared him. Fear struck his spine in striking bolts, waves of dread sulked, creeping in and making their nest in his aching body. He was so tired of coming back to this again and again, but it plagued his mind like a cold. He realized his internal monologue had been ongoing - even though it hadn't really spoke - but alas he had been lost in his own downward spiral of paranoia again, and had forgotten to respond. "Yu- uh- eeyup?" he stuttered out like he was drowning, he felt and sounded like a silly foal learning to walk for the first time again. He pushed his hoof lightly against his throat, shocked at his own lack of voice. Usually he was calm and confident, knowing what he wanted to say, despite how little it ever was. However he feared this would give way to his sister finding out, that she would know something was awry with him. "Can I, uh, come in?" the voice questioned. He nodded, then processed he had forgotten to use his words, and managed a sheepish "Yup." "Uh, okay." She responded equally as softly, her voice leaving a tinge of confusion to be interpreted. Applejack trotted in, her hooves making the wood beneath her creak as the old house settled. She nudged the door shut behind her nonchalantly with her back hoof, not taking her gaze off of what was ahead of her. She made a gesture towards Big Mac's bed and tilted her head, knowing he was a horse of few words, moreso when he got this way. And goodness, how he could manage to get into his own head. Applejack understood the feeling, more than he was letting on. Applejack got up and sat down awkwardly, glancing at her hooves as they, too, dragged over one another slowly, she never did like eye contact. Big Mac was more fidgety - he was straight-up restless, as he clapped his hooves together ceaselessly, clicking them atop one another with a hard "Clink." The silence was substantial, but it wasn't like it bothered them, usually. It drove Big Mac up the wall, he was sweating buckets thinking about what Applejack could possibly say. *Did she find out? Does she know? Does she hate me? She hates you. She knows and she hates you. She'll never forgive you. She'll never see you the same-* his thoughts were cut off abruptly. "So, big brother," she chuckled stiffly, "what's on your mind?" Blunt and to the point. She looked upward briefly, catching a glimpse of his face, caught in an uncomfortable twist as his mouth hung downward and his eyes sunk, staring blankly ahead. Neither of them looked at the other, but this again, was not unusual. When she said 'brother,' the word stung like a mosquito bite. It was barely there, but just enough to irritate him. And it grew bigger the more he picked away at it and gave it the time of day. Maybe if he just ignored it it'd heal itself, he thought. Her words in general hung high above his head, and he had forgotten to respond with the way he was over-analyzing it a million different ways inside. What was on his mind, besides this scary, burning question gnawing him alive? He gave a lackluster response to divert any inkling of anxiety, "Oh, nothing," and with that he kicked his back hooves loosely up, and they swung back down heavily in the empty air. What else could he say? The silence sat for a couple of seconds. Too long for Applejack's liking, she was growing a bit impatient with his lack of answers. She looked up and moved her head upward in tune with her eyes, rolling her head from one shoulder to the other as her lips pouted and she let out a quick exhale. She looked down at her teetering hooves again. "Nothing..." she repeated, tapping her hooves together about three times, give or take, she wasn't paying attention. "Oookay.." she said in a quiet tone, and the cadence in her voice had shifted after this minute or two of waiting. She scratched the back of her ear. "Well, if you won't tell me, I'll figure it out myself." She looked up and beamed what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, which came out rather awkward. It fell just as awkwardly. She wasn't the best at conveying emotion, but neither was Big Mac. They had that in common. "Ok, I'll spit it out, rapid-fire," she said funnily, holding her hooves up and moving one in front of the other and back again in tune with the quirky enunciation of the last word. If nothing else, she was making an attempt to lift his low spirit. She inhaled, "Is it about me? About Ma or Pa? *Granny?* Baby Bloom?" and with that she exhaled overexaggeratedly. It took a second, but the half-smile she had faded from her face as he stood there saying nothing, simply folding one hoof over his other arm, rubbing it rigidly and looking away, and what she hoped was not true, had hit her. It was about himself. "Oh.. brother," she whispered to him, "You can tell me anything," she reached her hoof up toward him, pulling it back when it was halfway there as she winced at his lack of response, not even a lean-in to her gesture, but she continued anyway. She gingerly put her hoof on his shoulder. Becoming more confident with her comforting, she rubbed his back gently. "So it's about you?" He took a second, and nodded somberly. "Hey, that's alright. Tell me what's on your mind for real now, when you're ready. If, you're ready." AJ's voice, he found, was quite calming. Big Mac shot a glance at her timidly, then down at her hooves, and back up at her, but he couldn't look too long in order to stop the waterworks from coming. He gulped dryly and looked at the wall, and after the ceiling. He watched the fan dodder decrepitly, but so sure of itself, it's purpose, rotating on it's axis, again, and again, and again. He wished he could be so sure of himself, he wasn't sure if he ever could be, though. And here, he found himself envying the rotating of a ceiling fan. What an interesting moment, he thought sarcastically to himself. Was this really where he was at? He zoned out briefly, watching the blades go in circles, and then snapped himself back to reality with a hard blink, a downward motion of his head, and a squeezing of his hooves. "I..." he started softly and then trailed off. He sighed in dejection. "I- Well, I am me. But... I'm not. I look in the mirror, and it's not me looking back. I know that sounds... stupid, but it's not me. It's not like it isn't who I am, it's just not me. And I, don't know why. I mean I think I do, but I don't - sometimes-" He took a second to collect himself and inhaled, exhaling sharply after, he put his hoof firmly against his chest, as if almost trying to coax the words out. "I'm me, but I'm not. I'm not who I'm meant to be, I, I was born wrong. My body is wrong," he shook his head, like trying to shake the bad thoughts away. "It's not mine. I was born with something wrong about me, outside, inside I'm me, but outside I'm not. But - I'm not bad or anything, it's just that there was something different. And, you know that funny feeling of those butterflies in your tummy when someone you like says your name? I'll get that, but I won't recognize my name as mine, but I do get that feeling when...ponies accidentally call me what they call fillies, even though they don't mean to and fix 'emselves right after, and they act like it's so wrong, but I still get that funny feeling of, goodness. It catches me off guard in the best way... my heart skips a beat. And I know I'm s'posed to like girls, but there was something wrong about me lovin' 'em... it feels like. I feel real guilty-like when I start getting all lovey about one. It feels like I'm not allowed, like there's somethin'.."  he teared up, "different. About me." He emphasized the last word quite significantly. He began to finish, not wordvomitting as much as he was before, instead saying it slowly, as if he was really trying hard to get his thoughts out. "I- I think, I think if I were born in the right body I'd be happier, but I don't want to change me, I just...want to change how people *see me."* Applejack raised her eyebrows and looked down, pushing her hooves together. She couldn't move, and she didn't. Big Mac's welling up had turned to a tear, gently rolling down his cheek. He held his breath, eyes darting back and forth from his sister's gaze - or lack thereof. Applejack held her breath as well. "Big mac, well - gosh." she let out staggeredly, anxiously chuckling, raising her hoof to her chest as she exhaled bluntly. Big Mac felt it coming, Roaring and Crashing. The water was surrounding him still, no matter how subtle it was before, it had been growing this whole time. Internal dread multiplying like a bilious bacteria, out to get him and cover him in it's killing spores. It must've been at least neck-high now. AJ chuckled, "Big Mac, I love you no matter what. You're my family." She looked him in the eyes, "It's gonna be ok." And there was the straw that broke the camel's back. It came through gently, like a soft breeze through his hair in summer, but it broke him so, so ruthlessly. He bit at his bottom lip and released, his mouth turning to a shaky U-shaped frown, and he bawled. Oh, how he bawled. He lunged for his sister's arms, which quickly opened for him to land in. Applejack huffed as the wind left her with his impact, but she regained control of herself and softly smiled, tenderly hugging him back. His head rested on hers, as hers on his. "It's alright big guy," she laughed. "In fact, I think I know exactly what's up." She pushed him off cautiously, and held her hoof against his shoulder. His tears subsided slightly, he wiped them with a trembling hoof. "Have you ever thought that maybe you feel like you're in the wrong body, because you're really a mare? I know nobody sees you that way right now, but I could start if that's who you really are." Big mac's pupils constricted, and he felt a leap in his chest. A mare? He tried so hard to push it out, but he couldn't. A mare. A mare! He let out a small smile, "A mare..." he then promptly shook his head. "But, I can't be. I wish it was that easy, that I could just be a mare, oh I wish so bad AJ," he put his hooves together and shook them, like he was pleading. He pushed her hoof off of him, sighing and speaking again, his voice cracking from the tears and raw emotion, "But I never could. I couldn't. I wish I could, but I'm not allowed to." he sighed defeatedly. Applejack chuckled, "Says who? All it takes is you saying you can. And I'll be honest, I feel like a lot of people don't give it much thought whether they want to be a mare or not - they just are." It all clicked. They, just are. He processed it for a second, and thought, and the thoughts slipped into words, "I'm a mare," he whispered. He smiled, the most genuine smile he'd ever shown. "I'm, a mare." He laughed, looking at Applejack. "A mare! I'm a mare!" His smile faded slightly, "But Applejack, am I still allowed to like other fillies? I figure now I'll have to like colts, that's what I've heard at least, and I really don't want to-" despite his concerns, he still looked quite euphoric. Applejack laughed again, "No, Big Mac, you can still like mares. It doesn't work that way I'm pretty sure." She rubbed the back of her head, "If it's any help, you can do whatever you want... What feels right." She closed her mouth and grinned, waving her hoof in the air dismissively of any negativity, her eyes in the other direction. Stopping, she looked at the ground and fiddled her hooves, "I, I actually know a lot about how you're feeling," she spoke nervously, cautiously, dancing around her words like she had something she didn't want to admit to herself as well. "I, know how you feel - about liking mares and, and the wrong body an' stuff. Feeling like your body isn't yours, it doesn't belong to you and never will, unless you make a big change, or somethin'. I get it. I feel wrong when people say I'm a girl, but I don't reckon I'd feel right with them callin' me a boy or something either - I don't think I really feel like either." She paused, cutting herself off, "I don't expect that to make sense to you, I know it's kind of weird and all." Big Mac thought for a bit, and then nodded, "No, I get it. I mean - I don't, but, I know you're you, no matter what, and I don't care who you are, you're still my sibling." Big Mac smiled nervously, trying to make sure he was doing the right thing. "And you're my sister, Big Mac," Applejack smiled back at him. "Now, how do you feel about me calling you by girl terms? Like, sayin' she, and stuff..." she struggled to think of an example. "Oh! Like, if I meet someone, I'll tell 'em "Oh Big Mac? She's my big sister!" Applejack let out a wide twinkling grin, feeling confident and proud with supporting her sister's feelings. "I, I like that." Big Mac said shyly, and she did. "Wait, how do I do the same for you?" she questioned. Applejack stalled, she really didn't think she'd get this far. "I think... I really like being called he, and brother and such. Although to be honest I'm not your sister and I'm not really your brother, and I still like other fillies - but I'm not one of them, or not in the same way, and - I don't know, it's a little confusing. I think the only way that I'm a filly is in the sense that I'm a mare who likes other mares. I don't really know what any of this is called," he voiced embarrassedly. "I wish I did." Big Mac smirked, "It's okay you don't, I don't know either. And we can learn together, little brother." She fluffed Applejack's hair playfully and her smirk became a toothy smile. Applejack laughed and joined her smiling. "Thanks," he said, quite gratefully. "To be honest, I've known this for a really long time, I just didn't know how to say it," he looked out the window longingly, "I wish I knew how to tell Ma and Pa, or Granny," he laughed a little, "and I don't even know how to tell a baby," he uttered, trying to lighten the mood a little after bringing it back down. Big mac grinned, "Why don't we go out to the orchard, little brother?"