#and every once in a while I shuffle the queue

[what-even-is-sleep]

Hm I just realized there may be some posts in my queue that will never see the light of day

[aerisxblade]

if you've ever wondered what's going on when i like your post & you don't see it for a while...yeah.

[sweetbans29]

Back to You (2) - CC Series

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Who knew Indianapolis would feel so small...

Warnings: little pains

Word Count: 2.1k

Previous - Next

Back to You Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist

2.5 YEARS LATER

Moving to Indiana was not your first choice. It also wasn't your second or third for that matter but here you are.

You stand in your new apartment, looking around at all the empty space you are going to have to fill. You hate filling space.

"Yo, where are you going to want this?" Kate comes walking in holding a lamp.

"Well considering there is no furniture here yet, I'd say the middle of the living room floor should do," you say sarcastically.

"Ha ha ha, very funny," she says as she places it on the kitchen counter. Claire comes through the door with a small box and places it next to the lamp.

"Okay, once the movers get here with the hauler I will have them working from the bedroom out. We will need to go to Target and a few other stores to get all the smaller stuff," Claire says. You are beyond glad that she is here to help, also that she has an eye for filling space.

"I think that is my queue to go grab food," Kate says as she picks up her keys and shuffles her way to the door.

You shoot Kate a glare but know that you can't go without food for much longer.

Over the next few hours your apartment slowly starts to look inhabitable. The following few hours are spent shopping for things that you know are just going to collect dust but don't say a word about because Claire seems to be really enjoying herself.

After you drove away from Caitlin, you did everything you could to make it seem like nothing had changed. To everyone around you, nothing had changed - they had no idea your world had just been torn apart and run over. The only thing that has changed is you stopped going to basketball games. You came up with every excuse in the books to get yourself out of sitting in a stadium where everyone was cheering on your girl - who used to be your girl.

It took Kate halfway through the season to figure out what had happened and when she did - she ran straight to you. It all started to make sense in her mind, why you weren't at games and never really around anymore. She never suspected anything because Caitlin seemed so normal.

When Kate confronted you about Caitlin - you broke down in front of someone for the first time over the girl you loved. She sat there and listened to every word you said and she was infuriated but she never left your side. She had every intention of confronting Caitlin but you begged her not to. It was already hard enough to pretend like you haven't been struggling to survive.

Ever since then, you made Kate swear that she wouldn't let what Caitlin did to you get in the way of her relationship with her teammate. And Kate kept her promise - even if it took her a while to look at Caitlin the same again. Kate did an above and beyond job at maintaining both of your friendships and it is because of that ability that you consider her your only real friend.

After getting back from all the shopping and taking orders from Claire on where to put everything you got all around your apartment, the three of you collapsed on your couch.

"I don't know how I could ever thank you both for helping me with all of this," you say.

"It was my genuine pleasure," Claire says with the biggest smile. You smile back and hear Kate groan.

"I am never doing that again," Kate says, causing Claire to hit her shoulder.

The three of you laugh all sharing in the fact that Kate did the least amount of work. You all fall into a comfortable silence and it begins to hit you. You are now living in the Caitlin Clark center of the world.

Over the next few weeks you settle into the new city, doing everything you can to avoid Gainbridge Fieldhouse even though you know you will be there sooner or later considering that is now your new place of work. If you had a choice, you would be working for any other WNBA team building out there - hell, you even looked into every NBA building option. But you didn't have much say when your executive director said they wanted you in Indiana, that is where you were forced to go.

Aside from it being home to the one person you try your best to avoid, the job you are stepping into is one of your dreams. You worked day and night to get to where you are and you are super proud of how far you have come in the short time after college. Becoming the Director of Player Relations for Gainbridge Fieldhouse, you knew you would only be able to dodge Clark for so long.

You have settled into your office and have made your rounds to introduce yourself to your new team. You have even started connecting with the Fever players which has been quite eventful. You first met Aliyah Boston and connected immediately. You tried not too but ended up fan-girling over her TikTok's. She tried to get you to join one but you refused, not wanting to be the cause of her losing followers due to your horrible dancing.

You then got some time with Natasha Howard and Kelsey Mitchell. Both of whom loved your intentionality and vision for how management can support the players.

You have met the rest of the team, minus a certain someone, in passing making sure to figure out a time to connect. At this point, you assumed that Caitlin knew you were in the building but haven't seen her yet to confirm.

Today's the day that all changes. At least that is what you are telling yourself since it is the first game of the season.

After getting to Gainbridge, you planned to take some time in your office before heading down to the floor but the second you walk in the door you are swept to do 20 different things. Before you know it, you are on the floor as the team runs out for final warm-ups.

Walkie in hand, you do everything in your power to stay busy the second you have a moment to breathe. As much as you want to breathe, you don't want to see that girl plastered all over this arena. You keep your head down and find your shoes uncharacteristically interesting.

A hand graces your shoulder and you peek up to see your assistant looking at you with soft eyes and in that moment you feel like you are back in college - broken and hiding.

"Hey Ben, what's up?" You ask, trying to shake the pit in your stomach.

"One would think after a few seasons this would feel normal," Ben says as he looks around at the crowds.

"This will never be normal, it will always be special. Trust me," you say. It comes out just above a whisper. Ben smiles at you and you smile back, shifting your eyes from Ben to the court for the first time. With the amount of people in this place you are certain you will blend into the background.

Big mistake.

As your eyes hit the court, they are met with all too familiar brown ones. Your smile fades as your eyes lock on hers. Both of you froze in time. It feels like your eyes are locked for hours but in the 5 seconds of gripping despair your breath is taken from you and you feel the air sucked from your lungs. You turn away and take a hold of Ben's arm.

"I left something in my office, I have to grab it" you say as you begin to walk towards the back.

"I can go get it, you should be here when they announce the players - it's thrilling," Ben says with a smile.

"No, no, I got it," you insist and continue walking. You feel like you are suffocating.

When you get to your office you close the door and turn the lights off. Back against the door, you sink to the floor and bring your head to your knees.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You sit there for who knows how long. When you feel your heart calm and your breath steady - you stand. Even after 2+ years of not seeing her, she still controls your heart. You grab your walkie and head back out.

You have no idea how much of the game has passed. As you are walking back out the tunnel an arm grabs you and pulls you into a small room.

"What the-", you begin but shut up immediately when you are met face to face with Caitlin.

She is looking down at you, hand still on your arm. Her fingertips brush the exposed skin on your forearm - a gesture you both were all too familiar with.

Neither of you say anything, not knowing what to say. You have imagined this moment every day since getting to Indy and now that you are here and alone for that matter, nothing comes out.

Caitlin hesitates but unlike your last meeting she brings her free hand up to brush her fingers against your cheek and her thumb against your bottom lip. You want to pull away but you lean in ever so slightly - she is too familiar.

Your eyes close as you feel your heart break all over again.

Caitlin can't take her eyes off of you. This feels like a dream, she has thought time and time again of how different things would have been if she cared more about you and less about the world. Cait continues to rub her thumb against your bottom lip until she feels a wet sensation meet her fingers. Her eyebrows furrow then ease when she realizes it's a tear.

She opens her mouth to say something, not that you had any reason to listen but she had to try. Before she can, the door opens and Steve pokes his head in.

"The second half is starting," Steve says and leaves right after.

Before Caitlin can do anymore damage, you step away from her. You don't look her in the eye - you can't. You see Caitlins hands grip the bottom of her jersey, just like they did the last time the two of you talked.

The last thing that Caitlin wants to do is walk away from you right now but she knows she doesn't have a choice. You watch as she makes her way to the door, stopping right before it and leaning her head against it.

You don't know why but before you stop yourself you find yourself reaching out and brushing one of her fly away hairs. It is now her turn to close her eyes. You pull her headband down and smooth some of her fly aways back before sliding it back onto her head. You bring your hands to her shoulders, giving them two squeezes like you would before every game to regulate her thoughts.

There is a soft knock at the door and you know Caitlin really needs to go but she doesn't move. She finally opens her eyes and you know she is doing everything she can to keep herself together.

She doesn't deserve your comfort. Both of you know it.

"Go," you say. It comes out softer than you intend - not that it was intended to be harsh.

She nods and reaches to open the door. Before letting herself out, she speaks.

"I would do anything to go back to that night," she says.

"Cait stop," you say, not wanting to do this right now. Not when she has to go out and finish a game.

"No," she says and turns to face you again. "That was the biggest mistake of my life and things are different now-"

The door opens and Caitlin is cut off.

"Clark, get your ass back out on that floor," one of the coaches comes in, grabbing her and dragging her out. You go unnoticed as you watch Caitlin be pulled out mid conversation.

Different? What could possibly be different now?

You have blocked her out of your life so much that you have no idea what is going on in hers. You shake your head - nothing has changed. This moment changed nothing. She is still the Caitlin that blindsided you and you did not spend the last two and a half years rebuilding your life to be broken again.

You grab your walkie and head back out, lighter than you have felt in a while.

The Fever lost that night and you can only hope that you had nothing to do with it.

AN: Part 2 in the books. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

Next

[cal-flakes]

reader making rafe sleep on the couch, ultimately begging him to get back in bed w her 😭😭💗💗

╰┈➤ making rafe sleep on the couch

warnings: swearing.

summary: a petty argument leads to y/n making rafe sleep on the couch, and later regrets it.

“you were the last one to have the keys y/n” rafe grumbled as she stomped around their living room, searching frantically.

“yes, and i put them right there! so you’ve obviously moved them” she snapped back, pointing to the glass bowl on the oak coffee table

they’d been arguing back and forth for a few minutes now. y/n was having a bad week, she’d come on her period a few days prior, and now the cravings were settling in.

she was upstairs in bed with a heating pad when the urge for ice cream invaded her mind, specifically chocolate.

she’s sent rafe a text asking him to check if they had any, but unfortunately he’d eaten the last of it. queue argument number one;

“i bought some the other day rafe, where did it go?” she questioned, her face was flushed and twisted.

“i ate it” he stated, nonchalance in his tone. craning her neck to face him, she glared at him as if he’d suddenly grown two heads.

“what do you mean you ate it?” she spat, unreasonable anger building up inside her chest.

“i mean i ate it princess, i’ll get you some more tomorrow..” he compromised, hoping she’d take it.

he hated period week, dreaded it actually. he did his best to soothe her pain and wipe her tears when necessary, but he was definitely target of the week, every time.

he knew it wasn’t her intention, and that she was just emotional, but once she found something upsetting or angering, she honed in.

“no rafe, i wanted it now!” she whined.

standing up, he sighed to himself. “i’ll go get you some more, okay angel?”

“no, it doesn’t matter, i’ll get it myself” she sneered.

and this is where it got a bit heated, suddenly, y/n couldn’t find the car keys.

“i haven’t moved the keys baby, you must’ve just misplaced them..” he cooed, attempting to stroke her face soothingly but instead she pulled away.

“i know where i put them rafe!” she yelled, tears welling her eyes. he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing.

“it’s not my fault that you lost the keys y/n!” he groaned, falling back into the couch.

she stared at him, mouth agape. “you know what? for that, you can sleep down here tonight!” she bellowed, heading back upstairs.

before he had a chance to reason with her, he heard the bedroom door slam.

a couple hours went by, and he was flat out on the couch, curled up with the throw blanket.

y/n however had been tossing and turning all night, unnerved by the lack of warmth next to her.

they hadn’t slept separately since they moved in together, and y/n was struggling.

she was so used to rafe’s hands tangled in her hair as he snored softly beside her, used to waking up to her face being peppered with kisses.

whimpering slightly, her eyes brimmed with tears for the third time that day. deciding to drop the stubborn act, she slid out from under the covers and padded downstairs. the house was completely dark aside from the television rafe had forgotten to turn off.

as she entered the living room, she creeped over to where he lay, fast asleep on the couch, and prodded him lightly. “rafe..wake up..”

stirring, a line of gibberish escaped his mouth, eyes groggy. “y/n?” he questioned, squinting his eyes.

“can i sleep with you?” she whispered, pride faltering. he chuckled before moving over as much as he could, opening his arms for her to crawl in beside him.

“you miss me?” he smirked, sleepiness laced in his gravelly voice.

“don’t get cocky, you still moved my keys..” she joked, shuffling closer to him while he spooned her.

[stellari-s]

Haiii! I saw your request were open, can I request a childhood friend!Ithaqua x gn reader that had been searching for him after his mother's death? Thank u so muchh if you were ok to doing thisss :'>

💐

hi, anon! i tried to put a (hopefully) nice spin on it. so, i hope you enjoy 🥺

request; yes, by anon! requests are (semi) open, but there is a queue and requests may take a while.

wc; 1 105.

tags; childhood friend! ithaqua x gn! reader, a bit of angst, ithaqua doesn’t actually show up, but he’s there, fluffy memories, could be platonic or romantic.

summary; in loving memory of the victim — your friend’s mother — of an unknown incident, you put flowers in front of that house every year. and… it appears you are not the only one who remembers.

“ah, (y/n)! it’s so good to see you — i was expecting you, in fact.”

with a small ring of a bell, you were welcomed with a hearty voice from within the store. the moment you stepped in, the fragrance of various flowers intermingled together, tickling your nose to the point you had to pause where you were at just to adjust.

you didn’t normally go to flower shops, even though you routinely visited it once a year, so you had never truly gotten used to its thick scent.

“when it comes to the smell, the only thing that makes me dizzier is the scent of perfumes,” you muttered.

if the owner of the shop heard you, she made no such signs. it was as though you had said nothing at all as she smiled. “well? do you want the usual bouquet?”

the usual…

just how long had it been, for the bouquet you asked for to become ‘the usual’? how long had it been, for the owner to remember exactly what you ask for, despite visiting merely once a year?

“yes.” you threw her a small nod and a smile. “the usual, please.”

“coming right up!”

you waited around at the entrance, occasionally stealing glances at the other flowers scattered around the shop — on the ground, the tables, and hanging in pots from above.

“have you finally shown interest in some other flowers?”

“whoa!!” your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest up to your throat as you jumped backward, seeing the owner right before you.

the owner, too, looked shocked. albeit for a different reason. “…am i a ghost to you or something?”

you shook your head quickly. “n-no, just looking around.”

“and? did anything catch your eye?”

“my eye…”

recomposing yourself from the shock with a couple of deep breaths, you looked around. your eyes scanned through all the vividly colorful flowers, but they stopped on a certain batch.

among the flashy colors and large petals, this batch looked quite humble in comparison, and it made your scanning gaze freeze for a second. noticing this, the owner followed the direction of your gaze to the flowers your eyes had fixated on — they were small, five-petaled flowers, a light, almost baby blue in color.

“ah,” the owner nodded as she continued, “those are forget-me-nots. you have good taste in flowers, for those to catch your eye.”

forget-me-nots… the desire not to be forgotten? i didn’t know they were called ‘forget-me-nots.’

even though you were far from a flower connoisseur, looking at them made nostalgia bubble up from the pit of your stomach, pricking your heart like needles.

“guys, come here a minute!”

you two had been playing in the small living room, working on a small puzzle together, but upon hearing the voice outside, you two glanced at each other before bringing yourselves up to your feet and shuffling outside.

there crouched a lady with a smile as warm as the sun, eyes that reminded you of the spring breeze, and long, flowing hair that that carried a gentle, earthy scent every time it danced with the wind.

she raised her arm, gesturing for us to come.

and so, you approached her.

“see, aren’t these cute flowers?”

she pointed to the five-petaled, light blue flower on the ground. it was relatively small, and it must have been hard to spot, but you had always felt the lady before you, your friend’s mother, was quite in tune with the nature around her. she always seemed so… at home.

“what are these called, mama?” your friend tilted his head, his light blue eyes fixed on the small blue flowers.

“they are called—”

“forget-me-nots are commonly given to those you are parting with, maybe for a short time, or maybe for a long time,” the owner explained, “to send a message that you would like for them to remember you, in the good times and the bad. even if the distance is endless, the memory still binds us together.”

you couldn’t help but flash her a teasing smile next to you. “have you thought about becoming a storyteller?”

“well, i was born into a family of florists,” she replied, taking your teasing question seriously, “so, as much as i’ve thought about it, and maybe dreamed of it, i decided to become a florist in the end.”

“i guess it’s something you can’t change, then.”

a lot of things couldn’t be changed because of the whims of fate, perhaps like that incident that stole her — and him — away.

“…i guess so.”

you two exchanged wry smiles, and in the end, you had decided to buy some forget-me-nots along with your usual bouquet.

the house you used to play with Itha at was now abandoned.

the incident that had separated you two largely remained uncovered, as the church had pulled some strings to keep it all under the rug.

perhaps because that made you angry and frustrated, but you still couldn’t let go of the past.

years had passed, but you still couldn’t find your old friend. but, you had heard certain rumors that started popping up ever since the incident happened — that slight change was the only proof such a tragedy had happened.

there is nothing in the woods, but if you venture too deep, a monster in the woods would cut you down.

you approached the dusty house, now like a ruin that contained the distant memory of liveliness. at the door, you placed the bouquet and forget-me-nots together. then, you clasped your hands together and closed your eyes, sending a silent prayer to the skies above.

maybe, it was a sore last-ditch attempt to find him.

then, you left, as silently as you had come.

alone.

the following day, when you decided to take a detour and stop by that house once again (on a whim, perhaps), you couldn’t help but notice something… different.

the bouquet you had left was now gone, leaving even more forget-me-nots in place of where the bouquet was originally laid.

you widened your eyes slightly.

there is nothing in the woods, but if you venture too deep, a monster in the woods would cut you down.

if there was nothing but a monster in the woods, then who could be the one leaving these flowers behind?

you knew the answer already in the back of your mind, but with a single tear tracing your cheek, the name was kept lodged in your throat.

i miss you — i’ve always been searching for you.

we are apart right now, but please, whatever you do and wherever you are, do not forget me.

[jojo-oliver]

How to tumblr for artists… my own version

A collection of things that have been working for me, but may not work for everyone

~~~ your posts ~~~

!!!reblog your own stuff!!! you need to reblog your own stuff, there is nothing morally wrong with reblogging your own stuff regularly. in fact, it is morally right to allow the chance for more people to see your artwork.

~~~ queue it!! ~~~ my queue is 500 posts strong. maybe don't try to make your queue hundreds of posts strong in the same day omg but like… once every month or two i'll go through my whole blog and just scroll and "add to drafts" to every one of my own posts i have. then i'll use the "mass post editor" to add content warning tags. and add to queue, and shuffle. and then I write down what the date was for when I last added my posts to be reblogged on queue. this is helped by turning on timestamps for posts in tumblr "dashboard preferences" settings.

queueing is necessary and life saving for me. It takes out so much work with decision fatigue and the anxiety around posting. It also guarantees that even if I suddenly need time off or away from my phone, I don't just disappear and lose all traction. It also breaks the instant-gratification cycle that you expect when you finish an artwork. It's hard to keep creating when you post something and, when you're expecting to get that gratification, you get none... If you queue your new artwork to come out at a later time, you've separated that expectation - with time. It hurts less and contributes to a more consistent gratification thing instead of peaks and troughs.

~~~ tag ya stuff ~~~ when you're making a new post, the first 20 tags are what gets put into the searchable tags. do not feel shame for using lots of tags. shame is the mind-killer. tags are hard. hard to know what to tag a post with. hard to remember the tags. so I found some ways to help myself. maybe they'll help you too. dedicate some time towards just figuring out what tags you want to use. i have a list in my phone notes that i add tags to and reference whenever i'm making a new post. i have the phone right beside the laptop while i'm tagging so that i can just look at it and scroll. tags are the only way for people to find your artwork, other than people manually coming to your blog because they saw you somewhere. there is no algorithm. posting without tags, until you have an established fanbase, is throwing something into the void.

When I'm doing tag research, I look at what people seem to use - when you put something in the search bar, tumblr recommends you some that have a higher following, typically. Looks like this on desktop:

if you like one tag, look at what other people who use that tag also tag their posts with. Observe and learn how this tag is used. search through a bunch of them and write them down.

here's what i got in my notes, for the specific kind of art I post and look for:

these tags are sort of specific to me and the kind of art I make. You'll want to research your own tags, but this is an example of how I keep them organized to make posting more effective. I generally only write down a tag when it's got more than 2k followers. You might be tempted to use the tags with millions of followers, but I've actually found those a lot less functional for small artists. If your stuff doesn't immediately get a bunch of notifications, you're drowned out and pushed to the bottom much faster. But the bigger tags are better than no tags, so I keep them if I can't think of anything else to tag something with.

~~~ post at the right times….? ~~~

fridays and saturdays is when I post fresh new things... usually. every website has it's own peak hours, and you can find those hours in many different online articles that try to sell you social media growth services. tumblr is unique in having later hours.

here's some random graph from google images:

please don't over think this. please don't let this consume the idea of when to post, preventing you from posting at all. it doesn't mean too much - if you post during very active hours, maybe your art would just be pushed down the feed faster. if you post at the end of hours, maybe everyone's going to sleep… if you post at inactive hours, maybe there's less 'competition'… if you post at the beginning of active hours, maybe that's just more time for your post to circulate for the day, if you have enough people reblogging it once it drops....

this also is in EST. So fuck the other time zones, I guess. I'm over here in europe knowing that the "best" time to post would be like 2-3am or something. It's like this for most english-speaking majority sites - higher traffic in north american time zones.

it's also worth mentioning that this is scattered as heck, compared to other social media sites. and it's not like, the activity times of your followers. it's not the best time to post for your niche. this is just tumblr, broadly. all of tumblr.

~~~ Plan ahead for annual dates ~~~

Your artwork will get more circulation if it's posted on a celebratory day. You could just put them on your calendar and if you're wondering what to make, look on the calendar for what's coming soon. For example, asexual awareness day, trans day of visibility, location-specific holidays, etc. Here's my phone notes thing with my own recorded annuals:

I got these dates from googling and reading different articles, but I find that I still miss dates, and then I add them for next year. If you know of some I missed, tell me and I'll add them please <3

~~~ reblog other people's stuff ~~~

tumblr is sorta about ecosystems. things get passed around within groups of people that are all following eachother. to enter this ecosystem, you must engage and reblog other people's stuff too.

if you reblog other artists' stuff, sometimes they'll come over and reblog your stuff too. sometimes they'll follow you back. this is called becoming a mutual. I'll search specific tags for the kinds of people I want to follow and the kind of art I like - those are listed in the screenshot of my tag note under "Tags for finding new people".

I see a lot of blogs out there that are very clean, posts are tagless, and are only for the artists' content. like scrolling through a portfolio. I imagine this is good for people who are migrating to tumblr but already have their own established fanbase from elsewhere.

you don't need to do reblog other people's stuff on your art blog, you can do this on a separate blog. but if the two don't look very closely correlated, it's hard to tell who you are when you're interacting. and hard to make sure people know that you are the same person as your art blog. and you gotta remember to promote yourself on your personal blog.

~~~ have an art tag ~~~

make your blog easy to search!

if i go to your blog, and you've written 'artist' or 'sometimes art' in your bio, i wanna see it… it make me so sad when i don't get to see it. i want to reblog it. please let me reblog it :(

to make a tag on your own blog searchable, you don't need to repost it to add a tag. you don't even need to reblog it. you can actually just go back to the original post and edit it to add your tag. I've seen post people just have their art tag be something like #(blogname)art . you can see my own in my tags image above. if it's very unique, then it'll work tumblr-wide. I think that's good, since the tumblr search function is really weird. Otherwise it should still work if it's not entirely unique, people just have to make sure they're searching specifically your blog to see only your stuff.

I like to have a link in my pinned post where people can click to have immediately searched for my art tag. Convenience is king. Keep in mind that most people are on mobile, and if something isn't immediately clickable, they often won't find it.

~~~ be consistent and be patient ~~~

!!!this time will pass anyway!!! how many notes you have is not correlated with how good you are as an artist. wanting to earn something from your art means you essentially have two jobs. two potentially full time jobs. this shit's difficult. most of the job is promoting yourself. don't undersell how hard it is to do… don't feel bad for not immediately succeeding. I would write about how hard it's been to promote myself, but it would just be long and sad I think.

This isn't a full guide, please feel free to add more!!

I'm sure in another year I'll disagree with a lot of this, it will become irrelevant with time, and I'll have a lot of different opinions. Chip in and share what you've been doing? Teach me? This is very overwhelming. Don't do it all at once, just like, try one thing at a time, and see how it works for you. Your niche might be different. One size does not fit all. If you're confused about some of the things I talk about in here, you might be on mobile. I do most of my queueing and posting from the desktop browser version.

I will update this with more as things change, but I think you'll have to click through to see the updated post

[froggibus]

Karaoke night with their s/o for Junkerqueen, Lucio, Mercy, and Venture? (I know you're getting soooo much Venture, I'm sorry, I adore them so much, I'm crushing so hard on them right now qq but I tried to include more people!!)

Karaoke Night - Junkerqueen, Lucio, Mercy & Venture

Genre: fluff w some crack

Summary: how your s/o would be when you take them to a karaoke bar

CW: drinking/alcohol, karaoke bar, mild public embarrassment, public singing, dorky ass ow characters

thank you for the req!! honestly this one was really fun to write & I appreciate you adding some variety to it ^^ i wrote this last night but work was so hectic i forgot to post it >~< hope you like it & that you’re having a wonderful day 💓

Junkerqueen:

she cannot sing for shit I’m sorry

probably didn’t know what a karaoke bar was until you took her

but she’s utterly fascinated by the idea of it and the fact people like it even if the people singing aren’t good

you probably have to surprise her by putting her in the queue without her knowing

she’s awkward when she first goes up but gets SUPER into it

chooses some fun sleaze rock song like Rock You Like A Hurricane and does dorky air guitar and stuff while she sings

has to announce to everyone that the song is dedicated to you too

drops to her knees at the very end and plays out the whole guitar solo with almost perfect air-fret/air-string placement

everyone loses their shit

she makes you go up with her after to sing free bird

the whole 9 minutes too oops

Lucio:

he is SO fun to karaoke with but also SO obnoxious

it was definitely his idea to go to the karaoke bar

probably buys you a couple drinks just to lower your inhibitions (so you’ll sing with him!)

while he’s comfortable in any spotlight, he accepts that you’re not (that’s what the drinks are for)

he signs you up without you ever knowing and when they call your name, drags you on stage with him

picks a super fun popular song & sings it with you

maybe a duet like Don’t Go Breaking My Heart or You’re The One That I Want

he busts out some silly dance moves while you’re up there just to help you feel more comfortable

he’ll start grabbing your hands and spinning you while singing

the crowd goes WILD for the two of you & people end up recording you

it goes viral online once people realizes it’s lucio oops

he has so much fun that he signs you up for 3 more songs >~>

Mercy:

she probably wanted to go to the bar just to watch

but after a glass or two of sangria she’s getting up on stage and grabbing the mic

sings a love song or a pseudo-love song, like Total Eclipse of The Heart or Dancing On My Own

she’s a totally good singer too

smiles at you the whole time and keeps pointing at you until everyone in the bar is watching you

she ends up reaching both hands to you and dragging you on stage after to sing a duet

if she drinks enough she WILL bust out some dorky dance moves (she LOVES the corny fake-rope pulling one)

again the crowd LOVES you guys even if you’re not the best singer

probably ends up going up 2-3 more times before the bar closes

Venture:

they LOVE karaoke bars however they’re too awkward on their own to get up and sing

get them a couple drinks first and they’ll practically be running up on the stage foaming at the mouth

they will do ANYTHING but they love cheesy 80s music and classic karaoke songs

not the best singer but they’re not bad at all

they do the little awkward side shuffle dance before they start to get into it

and then they bust out some CRAZY moves

I’m talking the worm, I’m talking break dancing—some WILD things

they’ll come back and beg you to do a song with them (but they won’t tell you what)

it ends up being something ridiculous like Tequila or something

and the two of you just stand there perfectly still until you say ‘tequila’

they’ll grab your hands after and pull you off stage giggling

masterlist | overwatch masterlist

if you like content like this, interactions go a long way! i appreciate every like, comment & reblog ^^

[snoopyana]

awkward.

“and i know it’s all wrong and i should stop…but i can’t.”

in which haechan meets you in a gamstop, letting his impatience get the back of him after dropping you off at home. who knew how awkward it would be when you find him?

lee donghyuck. smut

today was slow, like every other day. the occasional nerd coming in to ask you a few questions about some obscure game. watching people shop in the mall, chin resting in your hands, the silence started to consume your mind. reaching for your phone, the bell on the door chimed — your hand returned to the counter. “welcome to gamestop!” your own customer service voice finally getting on your nerves. “hi..i’d like to make an exchange.”

looking at him, it was a slight surprise. most of the men that stepped foot in here were..well.. — gross. but he looked clean. thick rimmed glasses taking up his face, covering the tanned skin around his eyes. jet black hair that was a little messy, lips parted just enough to see his two top teeth peeking out. tilting your head up to make eye contact, you smiled.

“of course, what do you have with you today?” leaning on the counter, the male laid down the three game cases that he held. “just these.” he barely spoke above a whisper, which you barely caught. grabbing the games, you did the usual inspection. “and these work just fine?” you questioned him, placing the game cds back into their respective cases. he mumbled under his breath, eyes darting across the store. looking back at him, your eyebrows knitting and a sincere expression plastered on your face. “can you repeat that? i didn’t quite understand!” he turned back to you, nodding. “yeah, they work just fine. i only ever played them twice.”

after a few questions and a little bargaining, he stuffed the money into his hoodie pocket. “if you don’t mind, i’m gonna look around a little.” he walked deeper into the shop as you placed the cases onto the counter behind you. watching as he browsed, you couldn’t help but notice how tense he was. even being tense the whole interaction. it was kinda cute, a nice change of pace from the usual cocky nerds that walked in and out those doors.

while he minded his own, your eyes gazed at the clock, realizing your coworker was running late. it was almost time for you to clock out and he usually appeared 5 minutes early. mark barged into the store, looking a little tired. “sorry, traffic.” he huffed out before coming around the counter. “it’s all good lee, not like i was dying to get outta here.” you patted his back making room for the man to slip past to the back. “and i think imma stay a little longer, there’s a costumer i wanna ring up.” your eyes lingering on hyuck as he grabbed something from off the shelves. mark followed your eyes, landing on the male. “oo, don’t go asking for his number though.” shooting the blonde a nasty side eye, hyuck shuffled back to the counter. “i’d like these please.”

for the next few days, the same tan man came in. asking for your opinions on games, what you recommended, etc etc. with his frequent appearance, it dawned on you that his name was never once mentioned. realizing this as you leaned up on the checkout counter while waiting for him today. you didn’t know his name but you spoke to him like he was your long lost friend. just on queue, he walked through the double doors. welcoming him like every other day, he greeted you back. “hi yn” of course he knew your name, it was pinned on your shirt. but you wished his own was also pinned onto his. shuffling behind the counter, you slid out to actually start working. restocking and dusting off shelves.

during the usual game talk, you finally asked. “so, what’s your name?” you questioned while cleaning off a particularly dusty shelf, he usually just followed you around the store to talk and watch you. “oh its haechan. or hyuck.. or donghyuck. whatever you choose.” wiping off the boxed items, you nodded. “hyuck, i like how that sounds.” feeling his cheeks get a little warm, he started fiddling with his fingers to try and distract from it — your sentence repeated itself in his mind. “thank you.” he whispered, continuing to follow you as you ventured into the store. the way he trailed behind you, someone would have mistaken him as a trainee.

his visits soon ventured out of the store — but never too far. hyuck would wait for you to get off, and he’d take you to lunch at the nearest restaurant. paying out of pocket each time. the lunches would consist of him listening to you talk and then drop you off at your apartment — you offering for him to come inside since it was late and him politely(and quietly) declining before running off to his vehicle.

tonight he sat parked in the far end of your parking lot, his hands making quick work at his belt. pulling out his painfully erect dick. he couldn’t help but get hard after every meeting or hangout session with you. spitting into his palm, hyuck was quick to start stroking himself.

couldn’t even wait until he got home.

whines filling the car as his head hit the back of the driver seat, while his hand made rounds on his dick. inevitably leading to his failure in realizing you getting closer to his car. running through the lot to see if he had left in hopes on retrieving your phone — the phone seated on his passenger seat. he had learned to finish quick, but tonight, he wasn’t quite quick enough. your palm rubbing the fog off the driver side window to see if he was in the vehicle. as your nail tapped the glass, the sight in front of you caused your finger to pause midtap — leading to his hand stopping mid stroke. hyuck didn’t look up, but he knew who was there.

awk-waaaaard.

note -uhhhh, so the day i’m posting this(february 14th) is my birthday!! i planned on posting this yesterday but i decided why not wait? now look at me, posting this late at night because i wanted to be turnt for my 20th birthday. but i hope yall enjoyed and had a great valentines. hugs and kisses!!

[exeggcute]

I may have just solved a mystery that's been bugging me for a while: so the context here is that I've seen an extremely common complaint in extremely online comments sections lately that spotify "doesn't have true shuffle," and that if you put a playlist on shuffle it'll just keep playing the same songs over and over. which has not been my experience at all, even though the main way I use spotify is adding all the songs I like to one giant playlist that I've been maintaining since 2012 (because back in the day, that's just how spotify worked; if you saved a song it went into a giant playlist called "Starred") and then listening to that on shuffle. every so often I go through and cull it but right now it's about 2200 songs, and when I listen to it I've never felt like it wasn't a sufficiently random shuffle.

it's also pretty easy to disprove the "shuffle isn't playing every song" claim if you shuffle a playlist with like, 30 or 40 songs on it, because it'll queue up the songs in a random order, play all of them, and after spotify gets to the end it'll be like "okay! show's over. no more music." (unless you have autoplay shit turned on but I do not)

then just now a whim I decided to listen to my Big Fucking Playlist with Smart Shuffle turned on, which according to the mobile app's flavor text is a mode that lets you "shuffle and get recommendations in your queue, refreshed daily." so ostensibly just normal shuffle with extra suggestions mixed in....

except suddenly 90% of the songs that popped up in my queue were david bowie tracks. like legitimately 90%, including both the recommendations (which are clearly marked by a little sparkle icon) and songs pulled from the playlist itself. I think what's happening is that spotify knows bowie is the most frequent artist to appear in my Big Fucking Playlist and is using that to weigh its song choices accordingly, but the actual ratio is nowhere near 90%: out of 2209 songs, 235 are bowie tracks. that's only ("only") 10% out of the total! and when I'm using regular shuffle I would say that it does feel like he's popping up once for every ten songs that play, which is about as often as you'd expect.

like, look at this shit. here's the artist selection for a few sequential songs when I use regular shuffle:

phil manzanera, wham!, the pointer sisters, sparks, ryuichi sakamoto, david bowie, sparks, franz ferdinand, david bowie, blur, japan, talking heads

and here's the artist selection for a few sequential songs when I use smart shuffle, in the exact same playlist (the "recommendations" are marked with an asterisk):

david bowie, david bowie, david bowie*, david bowie, david bowie, talking heads*, david bowie, david bowie, the smiths*, david bowie

shuffle isn't broken! but smart shuffle sure fucking is!!!

[ken-dom]

Training Wheels

Lars Lindstrom x gn!reader

1k words

Summary: You have to take Lars apart before you can put him back together again

Author’s notes: This one happened after a conversation with @hollandstrophyhusband about Lars's messy vs smart looks and his regularly unfastened zipper. Title once again from my Lars playlist 🩷

Warnings/content: nsfw, semi-public, hand job, dirty talk, teasing, light dom/sub elements (sub!Lars)

Lars’s hand slapped across his mouth. He was trying to muffle a moan he could feel rumbling up from his chest, and all the while, his legs felt like they were about ready to give out.

‘Such a dirty boy, aren’t you Lars?’ you cooed into his ear, your tone setting a shiver creeping over his overheated skin. ‘Getting so hard for me when we’re surrounded by people? Leaking into your underwear before I even touch you? So- naughty-’

You punctuated the final words with two very thorough pumps to his cock and he whined, loud and needy even with his mouth muffled by his own palm. His free hand scrambled against the wall behind him to find something, anything to ground him.

Fleeting thoughts flashed through his mind that he wanted to explain himself. To tell you that this was all because you’d been teasing him all day with little deliberate touches here and there, and then you’d continued all night at this party he wasn’t sure he wanted to go to, dripping lewd little comments in his ear, whispering all the dirty things you’d been thinking about him all day. 

He couldn’t focus his thoughts on reasoning for long enough to bother trying to explain that that’s why he got hard and shuffled off to the bathroom all coy.

And now he was so close. So painfully close. You knew how to work him over just right, make his pleasure last, have him simmering on the brink and then bring him off exactly how he needs it.

It was becoming too much. Just on the cusp of becoming completely overwhelmed, Lars needed you to let him cum. So he opened his eyes to beg. He knew that if he moved his hand away from his mouth, he wouldn’t be able to control the needy sounds trying to escape him. But his piercingly blue eyes, pouring with tears, said it all.

‘What’s that, Lars, baby?’ you cooed, slowing your ministrations just slightly. ‘I can’t hear you. You’ll have to take your hand away if you want to tell me.’

He shook his head desperately, panic draining his flushed cheeks as your other hand moved from where it rested beneath his sweater, warm on his soft belly, to wrap around his wrist instead.

‘Mmhnn- mmn!!’ Lars protested, using every shred of strength left in him to keep his hand sealed over his lips.

‘I need to hear you,’ you whispered, pressing your lips to his ear as you loosened your grip on his length, giving him some incentive to comply.

His hand immediately dropped from his mouth and his hips bucked forward at the sudden lack of friction, and he sobbed a far too loud, ‘No- please! Please don’t stop!’ no longer caring about the queue of his colleagues and friends on the other side of the door.

‘Tell me what you need,’ you instructed, cool and measured, slowly picking up the pace with a stroke of your palm.

‘I- I need to-’ he started, cheeks flooding red again.

‘What do you need, Lars?’

‘I- I need to cum!’ he whined, blinking his gaze away, ashamed.

He didn’t have time to focus on the shame rising in his gut though, because your fingers were firmly wrapped around his cock again, pumping so furiously he almost collapsed against you.

You pinned him back to the wall and kissed him hard, roughly forcing your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his loud groan as he spilled, hot and thick, over your hand, his fingers gripping at your sides so hard as you tipped over the edge, you hoped he would bruise them.

‘Good,’ you soothed as he dropped his head back and gasped for breath. ‘You did so good for me, Lars.’

His face scrunched up, overwhelmed, but he nodded a thank you, whimpering as his cock softened.

‘Now we’ve got to go back out there or they’ll start to miss us, ok?’

He whined again, clinging onto you, not wanting you to face anyone and just curl up with you instead.

You pulled away, admiring the state of him. He’d dressed up so smart for the party, his best suit and his thickest sweater, hair combed impeccably and his shoes shining. 

Now they were splattered with the last few drops of his release, his hair in complete disarray, trousers hanging loose around his waist with the zipper unfastened, underwear pushed down revealing his soft length and his tie loose beneath his sweater, undershirts protruding from where you’d slid your hand up under the layers.

As his breath steadily slowed and tried his hardest to stop shaking, you found a towel and ran it under a warm tap, gently cleaning his length before bending to wipe the drops of his semen from his shoes too.

Throwing it hastily in the laundry basket, you turned back to run your fingers tenderly through his mussed hair, restyling it for him, neatening him up. He sighed dreamily as you pressed your lips tenderly to his still flaming hot cheek.

You could feel his heart pounding in his chest as you straightened his tie and sweater, finally reaching lower to tuck his cock inside his damp underwear and gently zip up his fly, slipping your palm carefully over his sensitive cock for one last feel of him, squeezing lightly and feeling him jolt.

‘Good as new,’ you smiled.

‘Thank you,’ he breathed, straightening and checking himself in the mirror.

‘Now out you go, handsome. I’ll be with you in a minute, alright?’

His eyes widened, panic spreading over his face.

‘Go on Lars, be brave. No one’ll know you’ve just cum…’ you leant closer, feeling him tremble, to whisper, ‘unless you tell them.’

He closed his eyes tight and swallowed hard, your hands guiding him to the bathroom door and unlocking it for him.

‘One minute, okay? I’ll be right behind you.’

With a gentle shove, he was out, music from downstairs flooding the bathroom for a moment before you closed and locked the door again to freshen yourself up, ignoring the impatient queue that had indeed formed outside.

Lars flashed them an exceptionally nervous smile and headed hurriedly down the stairs, wondering whatever you would put him through next. At least you always made sure he looked decent.

[hypersonic04]

Heaven In Your Eyes

Hi everyone! I think I’m finally getting back into the groove of writing, both in terms of actually writing and also feeling mentally okay to delve back into tumblr. This is pretty basic I fear, so please bare with me lol. I’m not too sure what the word count is, but it’s not super long. I’ve missed you all so much, and really hope you enjoy <3

“I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“You’re joking, right?”

Breathy laughter tumbles down the telephone line, your knuckles white as you grip the phone in your cold fingers. Looking both left and then right, the street is bare of taxi’s. It’s 3am, you’re stood outside a nightclub alone in the middle of London, and there’s only one address you know off by heart.

“Y/n? Are you still there?”

His voice brings you out of your panic, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to get rid of the wine-instilled haze that seems to be clouding them.

“Yeah, sorry.” You inhale sharply, quickly glancing at the gaggle of girls falling out of the club doorway in loud giggles and clicking heels. “Are you at home?”

“Yeah, is everything okay? You’re worrying me, where are you?” The sound of him shuffling to his feet - you picture him in those navy plaid pyjama pants you’d bought him last Christmas, weary eyes and a furrowed brow as he awaits your reply.

“Can I stay over?” You grimace as the words slip out of your mouth. Asking to stay over at your ex-boyfriend’s flat because you can’t remember the address of your hotel is quite possibly your lowest point yet. Your feet hurt in the strappy heels wound tight around your feet, the spaghetti straps of your dress offering no warmth to your bare shoulders. It’s November, for Christ sake.

“Course.” He responds after a few beats, “do you need me to come and pick you up?”

“No, it’s okay, I can Uber.” Licking your lips, you spot a cab making it’s way to the queue, holding your arm out for it. “I won’t be long.”

“Okay, let me know when you’re nearly here.”

With that, you hang up and jump in the cab. The address rolls off your tongue without a second thought, like it’s tattooed onto your brain. It makes your heart ache a little. You wonder if it’s the same for another girl somewhere out there, if in the three months you’ve been separated, Ross’ flat has become someone else’s drunken retreat. You find yourself picking around the edge of your nail as you picture the unidentified her in his bedsheets, the ones you used to tuck tightly around his mattress in the mornings because you knew he liked it, the very same bedsheets that once smelled like you.

The taxi driver coming to a halt surprises you, and when you look out of the window, sure enough, his apartment building looms next to you. You pay the driver, sliding out of the car and sending a quick text to him.

It’s all too familiar, the way you wait under the porch, leaning against the brick while you wait for him to come and open the door for you. You reminisce in a way that you’ve avoided for the entirety of your time apart, a way that you knew would leave you sobbing if you dared to delve into the memories of him.

You stand up from the wall when his figure approaches through the frosted glass, tall and looming. Opening the door, his eyes are exactly as you pictured them - dark, creasing slightly at the corners as he smiles softly at you, tired from touring.

And he is wearing the pyjama pants.

“Hi,” he smiles lopsidedly, standing to the side to let you in.

“Hi.” You say quietly, quieter than you anticipated. “Thank you so much.” You turn to face him as he shuts the door, swallowing heavily. He just looks so comfy, familiar, home.

“You know you’re always welcome.” He scratches the back of his neck as he stretches a little, and it takes every ounce of self discipline and control to not watch as his sweater rides up, fingers tingling with the thought of running them over the soft skin at his waist like you used to. His hair is longer, it makes your breath hitch, and you know he notices in the way his eyes trail down your throat, your neck flexing as you breath in.

“Yeah, well, I’m really grateful.” You nod, the silence all consuming.

You follow him up the stairs as he takes the lead, heels clicking on tiles and your hand clinging to the handrail. He lets you into the flat first, and the way your stomach drops at the sight of it takes you by surprise. It’s like you can see ghosts of yourself in every corner - tangled together on the sofa, dancing together in the kitchen, sharing a cigarette on the balcony.

The sound of the door clicking shut and locking fills the room. You sit on the edge of the sofa and undo your shoes, his gaze burning into you. He’s stood against the doorway, eyes following your every move.

“Why are you in London, anyway? Alone?” He asks, and you can hear the almost jealous tone in his voice.

“Someone’s party, some publisher, I don’t know.” You mumble, the free cocktails finally taking their toll. “And yes, alone. Go on, call me a loser, I know it’s on the tip of your tongue.”

He chuckles lightly and you roll your eyes. That laugh, the hold it’s had over you from the second you heard it all those years ago, makes you angry, in a way. How dare he have that power over you? How dare his slightest chuckle remind you of every Sunday morning spent together, every drunken walk home, every party where you’ve been the only two people in the room?

Walking over, he takes your heels from you and sets them in the hallway, before coming to sit next to you. You’re looking up at the ceiling, knees pulled to your chest as you lull your head back.

“This is nice.” He muses, taking the sparkly material of your dress between his fingertips, rubbing it against them.

“Do you think?” You smile sleepily, tilting your head to the side, his eyes trained on the material draped over your legs.

It’s silent in the flat, and it dawns on you that he probably just stayed up to wait for you.

“Why were you up at 3am? I didn’t think you’d answer.” You say quietly, watching as his eyes meet yours for a second, before flicking back to the ceiling.

“Can’t sleep these days.” He huffs, chest rising and falling heavily. You remember how he used to fall asleep at the drop of a hat, head nuzzled into your chest, impossible to wake up, in fact.

He turns to look at you for a second, gaze falling to your lips, over your cheeks, nose, meeting your eyes again. It’s been three months since you’ve been face to face, and it almost makes you laugh how you ever thought you could forget him. It feels like you were tracing the outline of his lips only yesterday, every inch of his existence at the forefront of your mind, like a textbook you’ve read every day, laid in bed staring at the ceiling.

“How was the rest of the tour?” You whisper, still facing him.

“It was good, really good.” A faint smile ghosts over his lips, eyes softening ever so slightly as he thinks of the band. “Missed home though.”

“Hm, I bet.” You nod.

“How’s work?”

“Shit.” You say with a sputtered laugh, smile widening as you look at him, shaking his head with a giggle.

“Seriously?” He looks at you with tilted brows, wincing almost.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, moving away from home. I don’t know, I just wanted a change after everything…” Your voice trails off. Silence consumes the room. You swear you can hear your heart beat against your chest, or maybe it’s his. “I guess I thought that if I moved away, if I changed every other area of my life, then maybe it would fix everything.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands.

“And it didn’t.” You glance at him as the words leave your mouth, wishing that you could get a glimpse into that brain of his. Cogs turning slowly, calculated, pondering over every word.

“When I heard you were moving, I assumed it was because you were going to be happier away from me. That’s why I didn’t do anything.” He runs a hand through his long hair, your eyes following as he does so, “Because you were leaving and I didn’t want to be the knobhead ex-boyfriend telling you to stay.”

“Who told you I was leaving?”

“George. He told me about the phone call.”

You inhale sharply, brow furrowing slightly as you remember that day vividly, sat in your London apartment surrounding by boxes, listening to George begging you to stay. For Ross, for the band, for Dirty Hit. How could you stay? How could you work for your ex-boyfriend’s record label, looking at pictures of him every day, his music playing constantly, surrounded by him? That’s no condition to move on. How can you pretend someone doesn’t exist when your to-do list at work revolves around him?

“If you’d have told me to stay, I would have.” You bite down on your bottom lip, glancing at him. It’s true. His shoulders rise and then fall as he listens to you. It goes quiet, the tension in the air turned to a sadness.

“I’ve missed you.” He says through a strained voice.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You smile softly, sadly almost.

His dark eyes twinkle in the dim light of the floor lamp. They’re chocolate, they’re pools of honey, they’re heavenly. Sticky and sweet and enticing, and you just know you shouldn’t have them, shouldn’t let yourself fall into them.

“Have you been seeing anyone?” He asks abruptly.

There’s a shift in the air, his eyes fixed on your lips as your tongue swipes at them, still sweet from the sugar of the mojitos you’d drank earlier. You wonder what his taste like as you stare at them, perfectly met, gravelly stubble begging to be met with your soft fingertips. You know what they taste like, and that’s the problem.

“No, have you?”

He shakes his head.

“God, we’re boring, aren’t we? No sex in three months. We’re in our prime, Ross.” You laugh loudly at yourself, his eyes crinkling as he does the same. He always loved the way you found yourself funnier than anyone else in the room, obnoxious giggles escaping your pretty lips as he watches them curve into a wide, toothy smile.

“You’re right, it’s tragic.” He huffs.

You glance at him, features soft, hazy under your gaze. He’s propped himself up with his hand, elbow leaning on the back on the sofa, looming over you ever so slightly. You watch as he brings his fingertips lower, lower, brushing a curl from your collarbone, twisting the end of it between his fingers, gentle, quiet, slow. You smile at him softly as he does so. Moving from your hair to the strap of your dress, your skin feels cold, goosebumps over every inch of you. He notices, dark eyes glancing at yours for a second.

“Ross…” you whisper.

He looks at you intently, a sense of worry in his eyes, almost. He wonders if he’s overstepped, if he’s misread the sighs.

“I’m sorry, I just…” he sighs slightly.

“No, I…” you shake your head at him lightly, “I don’t want you to feel like this is why I’m here. I didn’t come here to have sex with you, Ross. I came here because you’re all I could think of.”

He rubs at his chin, watching as your turn to face him properly.

“No matter where I am, London, Manchester, even the other side of the world, all I can think about is what would have happened if I’d not have left, if we’d have worked things out.” Tears prick at your eyes, maybe the alcohol, maybe the way he softens as you speak, as you place a hand on his knee. “I’m an idiot, and I run away when things get difficult, and this was the first time in my life I realised I’d fucked up massively.”

“You’re not an idiot.” He tucks some hair behind your ear.

“No, I am. I should have stuck it out, talked to you.”

He places his hand over yours on his knee.

“Stay, y/n.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, sighing deeply.

“You said that if I’d have asked you to stay, you would have. I’m asking you now. Stay.”

You nod, squeezing his hand in yours. His other hand is on the back of your head, pulling you to hun until your lips are slotted together. Your hands find either side of his head, leaning into him even more, feeling his fingertips brush the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

“I’m never leaving you again.” You mumble between kisses, feeling him nod as your lips meet.

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 48

One part left and an epilogue to go!! 🎉 What is lifeeeee? The fact that this story is literally almost over is just insane to me. Thank you to everyone who kept up with this one. I know it's been a long, long ride. Your patience and kind words have meant the world to me. 💜

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 8,481

Elain’s consciousness tugged at the front of her mind, slowly trying to pull her from her slumber. Warmth radiated from the other person she shared her bed with, his cedar and mist scent a balm to her soul. As she slowly came to, she realized that Azriel was not the only one in their bed that morning, her son’s voice catching her attention even though her husband tried to keep him quiet.

“Not so close, buddy,” Az murmured, and she felt Kaden’s small body being pulled slightly away from her. “We have to be careful of Momma’s tummy.”

A little body shuffling jostled her but she kept her eyes firmly shut, simply enjoying the tender moment with her boys.

“Like this, Daddy?”

Her heart melted. The night before came perfectly clear in her memory—how Azriel’s face morphed into quiet joy from Kaden finally calling him daddy. She saw every emotion behind his eyes, every prayer being answered: that their son would finally view him as his father and not just a guardian.

“That’s perfect, bud,” he choked out in a hoarse whisper. It was obvious how much it meant to Azriel to hear that name coming from Kaden’s lips.

Elain knew that her husband was aware of her being awake; he always seemed to sense her presence even before she opened her eyes. He confirmed it when Kaden tried to whisper, “When is Momma going to wake up?”

Az’s answering chuckle was the first indicator, followed by “Soon, I’m sure.”

She took that as her queue, stretching out her aching body—pregnancy really was a bitch—yawning until she opened her eyes.

“Momma!” Kaden shouted in glee, throwing his arms around her shoulders.

Elain let out an “oomph,” laughing as Azriel chastised their rambunctious four-year-old.

“Easy, Kaden.” He scooped his son back into his arms, kissing him all over his face and making him burst out into a fit of giggles.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, smiling at the sweet display. “What time is it?”

Az settled their son between them, his bright eyes glancing at her. “Just before seven. The Moonbeam twins will be here at nine to collect you and Kaden to head to the baby store in Hewn City.”

Elain could see the change in her husband as he spoke. How he wanted them to go with them and that it made him nervous to stay behind while they were in another territory. She reached out, cupping his cheek in her palm, and let her thumb swoop over the apple of it. “We’ll be okay,” she whispered, hoping to reassure him.

He sighed heavily, twisting his head to kiss the inside of her hand. “I’ll be better once you’re both home and safe.”

“Momma, I’m hungry!” Kaden announced, breaking the spell that had woven over them.

 Azriel rose from the bed, turning to face them. “I’ll make breakfast. What do you guys want?”

“Pancakes!” they said in unison.

Her husband huffed a laugh, eyes rolling because that’s what Elain always wanted for breakfast. “Why do I bother asking?” And then he swooped down to toss their giggling boy onto his shoulder. “Alright, free-loader… you’re going to help me make pancakes this morning,” he called out as he threw a still-giggling Kaden over a shoulder and muscled his way out of their bedroom.

“Bye momma!” their little boy called waving at her enthusiastically.

She wiggled her fingers at him, giving herself another moment to lounge in bed. One of the twins stretched out, their little foot pressing against the inside of her stomach hard enough to see the outline of it. She could even make out their little toes. Elain let out a breath, running her hand over her belly to soothe the child. “Make yourself comfortable, little one,” she teased in a soft breath. 

Shuffling herself off the bed, she waddled into the large bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.

Forty-five minutes later, she padded her way downstairs to the kitchen in a pair of leggings, one of Azriel’s oversized sweatshirts—because it was the only thing warm enough that fit her at the moment—and sneakers. She found her boys at the stove, Kaden pouring the last remnants of the batter onto a hot skillet while Azriel flipped pancakes to perfection.

Elain took out her phone and snapped a photo of the two of them, intending on getting it printed and framed for the house. She glanced down at the finished pancakes, noticing the wonky shape from her boy’s pouring skills. Her lips turned up into a smile as she made her way to the fridge to grab the carton of orange juice for herself and milk for Kaden.

Azriel caught her movement, eyes quickly looking in her direction before returning to the stove. And then his whole head snapped toward her, taking in every inch of her and what she was wearing.

Truth be told, Elain knew what wearing Az’s clothes did to him. He had always had this masculine pride whenever she paraded around in his t-shirts and such. But she typically wore them around the house, unless he happened to drape something on her while they were out. His eyes darkened, and he stepped away from the stove to prowl over to her.

The look he shot her had a pleasurable chill running down her spine. How Elain could be seven months pregnant with fucking twins and still be turned on by this man was beyond her. But he took advantage of her raging hormones when they could.

A scarred hand reached out to run down the length of her sleeve. “You’re wearing this out?” he asked, voice low and sensual.

She felt herself twinge between her thighs. “It’s big and comfy,” she told him. “Is it all right if I wear it?” Elain knew the answer before he even voiced it.

A growl rumbled from the back of his throat. “Fuck yeah, you can wear it. Look at my wife, knocked up and wearing my clothes. Do you know the kind of message that sends to people?”

She huffed a laugh. “That you’re territorial and a caveman.”

Azriel claimed her lips in a heated kiss, stepping into her space until her rounded belly was pressed against his abdomen. It was obvious he wanted to finish what they started last night, the way his tongue slipped into her mouth and how his palms cradled her body indicated it.

Frankly, she did too. Elain didn’t think Az could be more attentive to her needs, but while pregnant, he managed to kick up his wicked talents until she passed out from coming so many times when they got hot and heavy.

His mouth moved dominantly over hers, prying her lips apart so he could stroke his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss.

It took a splat sound, followed by an “Oopsie,” from their son for them to break apart.

Azriel whirled around while she stepped to peer around his shoulder at their son holding the spatula in his tiny fist, a guilty look spreading across his face in the form of a blush.

Her eyes glanced down at the floor, finding a half-cooked pancake staining the wood.

“Kaden,” Az started, voice alight with humor. “Watcha doing there, bud?”

Those tanned cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink. “I was trying to flip, Daddy!” he says exasperated.

Her husband let out a chuckle, moving to help their son climb off the stool he was standing on. “Well, it looks like we might need to practice that next time. Go sit down at the table, Kaden.”

Azriel cleaned up the mess in their kitchen while she finished setting out dishes for breakfast.

Elain loved mornings like this. The three of them—soon to be five—sitting around eating their breakfast together. She wanted to make this a weekend ritual, especially when the kids were young. Weekdays were difficult to get all of them around the table and she and Az took turns preparing breakfast for Kaden before he went to school and they to work. Actually, Azriel typically took care of it most mornings now since she was running slower, but this, this sweet family time…Elain wanted nothing more than to have this with her husband and children.

The doorbell ringing pulled her from her reverie, Azriel announced he’d get it, then dropped a kiss on the top of her and Kaden’s heads.

She heard the tale-tell sounds of the Moonbeam twins entering their foyer.

“Good morning, Elain,” Fenrys bellowed, dropping a kiss to her cheek followed by his brother more politely. Both men ruffled Kaden’s hair and took a spot around their breakfast nook.

“Morning, boys. Thanks again for taking Kaden and me to Hewn today.”

Connall flashed a brilliant smile. “It’s always a pleasure, Elain.”

She gestured to the table still full of food. “Please help yourself to breakfast. Kaden helped make the pancakes this morning.”

Fenrys twisted to the little boy. “Kaden, you made the pancakes?”

Her son beamed at the question. “I did, Uncle Fen!”

He grabbed one of the oddly shaped flapjacks and bit into it, groaning. “Well, that’s the best pancake I’ve ever had, isn’t Con?”

Connall took one as well. “I think we’ve got a little chef on our hands,” he said, earning a little blush from Kaden.

She grinned at the conversation, loving how her boy had become more comfortable with their security team over time. One of the babies sent a swift kick to her lower stomach causing her to wince. The conversation stalled as all three men at the table took notice.

Az’s large, scarred hand slid across her belly. “Are they kicking?” he asked with a sweet, hopeful look in his amber eyes.

She nodded, a grin playing on her lips. “They’ve been making their presence known this morning,” she murmured, looking down at her pregnant stomach.

Fenrys rounded the table, looking at where the baby was moving beneath her skin. “May I?” he questioned.

Elain took his hand and placed it right where one of the twins sent two jabs.

The golden twin’s smile took up his entire face. “That’s a strong one you got there.” Both Fenrys and Connall had grown even closer to her since she got pregnant. They often asked to feel the babies kicking if they happened to be active whenever they were around. She was surprised that Azriel showed no displeasure or territorialism when they did. He’d been particularly protective of her, especially around others, and didn’t like when others touched her without asking first.

Rhys found out the hard way a few weeks back, having had his hand snatched off her by the wrist in Azriel’s brutal grip. “Ask first,” he growled at his brother, a lethal look in his eyes.

She had been a bit blind-sighted by the interaction, as was the rest of their family, but not a single one of them touched her again without getting her explicit permission first.

Luckily, both the Moonbeam brothers always asked and she never had an issue with them. 

The commotion around her fluttering belly grew the attention of Kaden who pushed his way around Fenrys’s legs. “Momma, can I touch your tummy too?” His little lip quiver had her reaching for him and tugging him closer.

“Of course you can, sweetheart.” Kaden was the only other person freely allowed to touch her stomach, Azriel often encouraging him to feel them or listen to her stomach so he could connect with his siblings early on. She gripped his small hand and placed it right where one of the babies had been kicking. Up until that point, Kaden had missed every time they kicked; the twins already giving their older brother a hard time.

His brow furrowed in concentration. “I don’t feel anything,” he said, deflating.

Her lips quirked up. “Give it a second.” And as she predicted, a hard kick was sent straight to his palm.

He whipped his hand back, shock plastering his face. “Why are they kicking you, Momma?”

She felt the attention of her husband and security detail on them, listening to his curious mind. “They’re not trying to kick me, baby. They’re just trying to get comfortable with the little room they have in Momma’s tummy.”

His green and gold eyes dragged from her stomach to her face. “Can’t they come out here?” He threw his arms wide. “There’s lots of room!”

The adults chuckled and she reached out to lightly tuck a curl behind his ear. “They’re not ready to come out yet. But they’ll be here before you know it.” Elain tapped his button nose with the pad of her finger.

His face scrunched up adorably. “Why are they in your tummy, Momma?” he asked, head cocked to the side as he studied her moving stomach.

She leaned back in her seat. “Babies need time to grow big and strong. Mommas help them by keeping them safe in their tummies for a while until they’re all ready to come out and join us.”

He seemed to think about that for a minute, then asked, “How’d they get in there?”

Azriel choked on his coffee.

Silence descended upon the kitchen. She glanced at her security team across the table, both of them wearing shit-eating grins, and then her husband who looked conflicted in answering at all. Fucking traitors. “Well, Daddy put them in me so I can grow them.”

There, that was safe, right? Truthful but not explicit.

But of course, their curious son had too many questions and wondered about too many things. “How?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older, son,” Azriel finally swept in with the saving remark.

Seemingly appeased with that answer, Kaden leaned forward and lightly patted her stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you,” he whispered, kissing her roundness like he’d seen his father do so many times.

There was a collective aww from the group before her husband rose from behind her. “Come on, Kaden. Let’s get you ready so you and Momma can go with Uncle Fen and Uncle Con into the city.” He leaned down, whispering in her ear, “Nice save, Mom.”

She shot him a menacing glare as they strolled for the stairs.

Fenrys poured himself a glass of orange juice, snickering behind the cup. “Well, that was fun.”

Elain turned her glare on him. “Oh, yeah. So much fun for me. Thanks for the help, guys.”

“One,” Connall, started, flicking a finger up, “he’s not our kid. And two,” his middle finger joined the first, “I really wanted to hear the sexual education course from an actual doctor.” He took a bite of his pancake, smirking.

She groaned. “It’s far too early for the sex talk.” Elain threw back her orange juice like it was a shot of tequila. “Azriel can have the talk with the boys. I’ll give it to our daughter.”

“Unnecessary because our daughter is never having sex,” Az announced, striding back into the kitchen.

“Is that so?” she questioned, leaning back in her seat.

He nodded affirmatively. “I’m officially joining Cassian on the ‘our daughter is never dating’ pact.”

Elain rolled her eyes so far back into her head, she swore they nearly stuck. “You do realize you can’t physically stop her from having sex, right?”

A thick brow rose. “I’ll scare off anyone who so much as looks in her direction.” He said it so casually, she was starting to get concerned he was serious.

“What if he’s just like you?”

He let out a harsh laugh. “Then he’s definitely dead.”

Elain glanced at the Moonbeam twins for help, but they were dutifully ignoring her pleading looks. Yup, fucking traitors. She pushed herself from her seat. “Azriel, we cannot hold our daughter to a different standard than our son’s. That’s not fair and you know it.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between hers. “Fair enough.”

“Good.”

“None of them are allowed to date,” he announced like it was the most obvious answer.

“Azriel!” she hissed, swatting his shoulder. “You overbearing, protective man. Stop this.”

He tugged her in his arms, a grin fighting its way onto his lips. “I can’t help it, El. They’re my babies.”

She reached up to cup his stubbled cheeks in her palms. “They’re mine too. But they’re going to need to spread their wings eventually. We can’t protect them from everything and we can’t stop them from living their lives.”

“I know, I know.” He sighed heavily. “A man can dream, can’t he? That they’ll stay little and dependent on us forever?”

Elain laughed softly. “You’re a perfect father, my love.” She pressed her lips to his, sighing into his mouth when he deepened it.

It took a very subtle, but very prominent, throat-clearing to pull them apart. They turned to look at the twins, both wearing mischievous grins.

“Sorry, we weren’t sure if you wanted to give us a front-row seat to the live-action, baby-making ritual,” Fenrys tossed out.

“Jesus Christ, Fen,” Elain muttered while her husband shot him a death glare. “Where’s Kaden?” she asked him instead, regaining his attention.

“I left him to brush his teeth and get dressed. He said he could do it on his own.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you pull clothes out for him?” Kaden was in his stage of throwing on whatever he found first, which meant his outfits of choice would sometimes consist of long pants, a tank top, one rain boot, one flip flop, and the occasional beanie. And somehow, everything was always a different color.

A few weeks back, Kaden had decided to dress for school and ended up in a full meltdown when she said he couldn’t wear his pajama pants with one slipper and a light-up sneaker. She ended up being late for work and Azriel had to leave an early morning meeting from his home office to come help handle the situation when she grew lightheaded enough from the stress.

“His entire outfit is lying on his bed and I told him to put it on after he finished his teeth.” Az planted a kiss on her cheek.

“If he comes down in a T-rex costume, you’ll be dealing with it on your own.”

A brow raised. “Does he have a T-rex costume?”

She shrugged, sighing. “I don’t even know.” They really did spoil their children.

Fenrys and Connall snickered at the exchange. “Do you want us to take the SUV?” the latter asked, redirecting the conversation to her husband.

Azriel guided her back to her chair and helped her sit. “Yes, anytime they leave the city they must be in the SUV.”

Elain nearly rolled her eyes. A few weeks before they bought the house, she and Az had agreed to get a new car since their current one wouldn’t be able to handle the size of their growing family. Elain left it up to her husband, not caring about what he got, but he had some specific requests. It had to have high safety reviews, fit their whole family, and be luxurious. Frankly, she only cared about the former two, but he insisted they should always ride in comfort.

What she did not expect was for him to upgrade every window to bullet-proof glass. The damn thing was safer than what a president or the royal family would be escorted in.

“Just a precaution,” he had told her. “More like overly excessive,” she shot back.

She just huffed out a breath, finishing her juice. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” she asked her husband, eyeing his casual attire.

He flicked her nose, making her hiss. “Meeting’s at ten. I’ll change when you guys head out.” Grabbing her dishes, he padded to the sink to wash them, always taking care of her.

Twenty minutes later, they were loading into the car, Az getting Kaden into his booster seat while she slid into the back. He kissed his son’s cheek, eyes finding hers. “Be safe. Call me if you have any problems.”

Elain offered him a reassuring smile. “We’ll be fine. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” He leaned farther in, stealing a quick kiss from her lips, then shut the door.

She watched him speak with the Moonbeam brothers outside of the vehicle, likely giving them the protection order for her and their son. After a couple of minutes and a few nods, they took their respective seats in the front.

Fenrys flashed a grin from the driver’s side. “Ready, fam?”

About an hour later, they pulled into a parking spot outside the large baby store Elain had been dying to get into. She tried to keep most of her purchases to local businesses in Velaris, but there were just some things she couldn’t get there and had to resort to one of the chain stores.

The minute the car was in park, the men jumped out, opening their doors. Connall unclipped Kaden from his booster seat and helped him out, taking his hand until they met on the other side of the car and she could take over.

Their focus was the double-seated stroller, but she did want to look at the pack-n-play for when the babies started to really move around. They still had their co-ed baby shower the following month at Feyre and Rhys’s for any last-minute items.

They slowly made their way into the massive store, Connall disappearing to grab a cart. As they walked, they passed the toy section, and Elain saw how Kaden’s eyes lit up like it was Solstice morning.

“Momma, can I go look at the toys, please?”

She glanced at the golden twin, then back at her son. “Sure, sweetheart. Why don’t you and Uncle Fen go pick out something small for your brother and sister?”

The little boy squealed, taking Fenrys’s large hand in his and pulling him away.

“We’ll be in the stroller area when you’re finished.”

She and Connall continued their perusal through the isles until she found what she was looking for—of course, the prams were at the back of the store. Elain already knew which one she wanted; the stroller was top-of-the-line, grew with the babies, and had the best reviews on the market.

But when they stopped in front of the shelves, she realized their mistake. “I think we’re going to need a flatbed. These won’t fit in the cart.”

Connall stepped up to her side. “Yup, I’m realizing that right now. Damn. Sorry, Elain. Let me go grab the other cart. You okay here?”

Elain huffed a laugh. “Well, I can tell you I’m not walking back to the front of the store and back, so I think I’ll survive the few minutes of your absence,” she teased, flashing him a cheeky grin.

He rolled his eyes at her, a smile toying on his lips. “You’re so sassy pregnant.”

“You’ll do well to remember that.”

Connall chuckled, heading back to the front of the store. He left the cart at her request, just in case she needed it.

She grabbed one of the large boxes from the lower shelves and yanked. The box barely budged. “Oh, come on,” she muttered, trying again.

“Can I help you with that?” a male voice asked, coming up behind her.

Elain whirled, taking an involuntary step back at his proximity,

His lips curled up in the corner. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Her eyes ran over the length of him. He was an attractive man. Older than her, likely close to forty if she had to guess. He was tall, well over six foot with golden brown skin and dark hair. He looked familiar in a way that tickled the back of her mind but couldn’t quite place.

He nodded at the stroller box. “Did you want me to grab that for you?” he asked again.

“Oh. Yes, that’d be great.”

The man stepped around her, reaching for the handle of the box and slid it out for her to inspect, the suit jacket he wore stretching over the defined muscles of his shoulders and back. “Here you go.”

She ran a hand over the box, double-checking the name and product code. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said, leaning a hip against the shelves and crossing his arms over his broad chest. “How far along are you?”

Elain tucked her hair behind her ear, looking back up at him. Again, the prickling sensation rubbed at her mind, almost like in warning. “Right around seven months,” she said. It wasn’t too personal to admit to a stranger. Carrying twins, Elain looked ready to pop anyway. “Is your wife pregnant? Girlfriend?” she asked, redirecting the attention from herself onto him.

His lips turned up again. “Sister-in-law.” He let his eyes rove over her form, sending a chilling sensation running down her spine. “I’ll admit it’s been a while since I bought anything from a baby store…any suggestions?”

Her brow furrowed. It seemed odd he’d come into the store without having any inkling of what to get. “What is she having?”

Again, a smile touched his lips, but Elain thought it looked a little more sinister than genuine.

“Twins,” he announced carefully.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her heart began racing in her chest as she started to connect the dots of who this man was. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any suggestions for you.”

He huffed a rough laugh. “No?” His thumb rubbed his lower lip in contemplation. “I would’ve figured you could’ve given me a good idea of what to give her and her husband.”

Elain took a very subtle step away, putting the stroller box between them, but of course, those fucking hazel eyes zeroed in on the movement, his mouth pulling up. “Nope,” she said, popping the p sound. “Can’t help you.”

The man stuffed his hands into his pocket, a casual look of grace and sophistication, but he also radiated a dark and dangerous vibe. A lethal combination…just like her husband. “What was your name again?” he asked casually, head cocking to the side in a predatory-type of way.

“I didn’t give it,” she snapped back. Her red alert sensors were going off in her mind, and here she was, all alone with her son somewhere else in the fucking store. But Elain didn’t dare take her eyes off the man who was looking at her too closely.

He chuckled, the sound sending nerves flooding her stomach. “Smart girl. You’ll have to tell Azriel that Frankie says hello. It’s been a very long time since we last saw each other.”

And there it was. The truth of who had somehow managed to track her down in a baby store in Hewn City. What her gut had been screaming at her since he said he was buying something for his pregnant sister-in-law. She knew she recognized him, he bore some similar markers of her husband and Nicklaus too. The same jawline, the same nose. But where Azriel’s hazel eyes had flecks of emerald, Francisco’s were much lighter, giving him an almost feline look.

Elain took another step back, one he countered with a casual step in her direction. “You shouldn’t be here,” she stated, trying to keep her voice calm and not betray her terror. Because this man, this man was utterly lethal. He wouldn’t hesitate to grab her or her son.

“Shouldn’t I be?” he asked cooly. Too cooly which only made her more anxious. Yup, there went her blood pressure. “After Nicklaus met you, I was quite curious myself about the woman who captured my brother’s black heart.”

“You know nothing about his heart,” she snarled. Her voice turned venomous, something he seemed pleased about.

He chuckled again. “I know he keeps very little in it. You.” Frankie flicked off an invisible piece of lint from the sleeve of his suit jacket. “Your adorable little boy, Kaden.”

Elain froze, true terror turning the blood in her veins to ice. “Keep his name out of your mouth.” She had to find Fenrys and her son. She had to get out of this goddamn store. Elain just prayed Fenrys was vigilant in Kaden’s protection, but she knew he would be.

“I’m sure you already know, but in case you don’t, Lorenzo won’t be a problem for you anymore.”

She blinked, the words rattling around in her skull. Lorenzo showed up dead just before Kaden’s adoption approval. “What did you do?” He’d been a part of the Illyrian Mob. It made no sense to kill one of their own.

He shrugged. “I took care of a problem.” His eyes seemed to look through her and directly down into her soul, the filth of his sins leaked from him like blood upon the tile floor, staining her from the inside out. She didn’t like that one bit. “Consider it my present to you and my brother on the adoption of that sweet boy.”

“We didn’t ask for that.”

Again, he raised his shoulders in indifference. “Azriel is my brother—”

“You are not his brother,” she hissed.

That seemed to irritate him, a crack in his calm demeanor for the deadly male to peek out from beneath the mask. “We are of flesh and blood.”

It may have been the most reckless thing she ever did, but Elain squared her shoulders, looked him dead in the eye, and said, “Blood does not make you brothers. Where was this brotherly bond when you held him down as a child while Alec mutilated his hands? While you allowed him to be tortured and burned.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Azriel has two males he calls brothers, but neither of them is by blood.” Where the fuck was Connall?

He crossed his arms. “And here I thought we were making headway, Elain. Perhaps when my gift for the twins arrives, you’ll reconsider.”

“We don’t want anything from you,” she snarled, face going warm in fury.

“They’re going to want to know their Uncle Frankie,” he murmured, quickly taking too many steps forward and reaching out as if to touch her rounded stomach. But a tanned hand shot out and gripped his wrist.

“Do not touch her,” Connall growled, fingers tightening.

A dangerous glint flashed in Frankie’s eyes. “Remove your hand from my presence before I put a bullet in your head.”

Elain thought she was going to pass out. Her chest ached from the racing of her heart. Blood rushed in her ears drowning out everything around her. And then she heard him.

“Momma?”

She chanced a glance as Kaden and Fenrys came around the corner of the aisle, toy in hand. Elain shook her head at Fen, a silent order to keep her son back. She didn’t know what she would do if Frankie tried to grab her boy.

Reading her request, and the fear in her eyes, Fenrys snatched Kaden into his arms when her son tried to get to her, toy clattering to the floor.

“Momma!” he cried, sensing the seriousness of the situation but not understanding what was going on.

Knowing her son was as safe as he could be, Elain returned her attention to Frankie, who was eying the little boy trying to push his way out of his protector’s fierce grip.

Her hackles rose and she took a deliberate step in front of him, forcing his gaze to return to hers. “Connall, let him go.” It was an order, one the dark-haired twin obeyed immediately. She kept her eyes on Frankie; let the frost she felt in her blood come out in her words. “We are not interested in whatever it is you want. If you come for my family, I will kill you myself without even blinking.” His eyes widened imperceptibly, but she didn’t let him get a word in edgewise. “Let’s go.”

Connall moved to cover her back, ready to take a fucking bullet for her and her babies.

Kaden was still crying in Fenrys’s arms and though she knew he was too heavy for her to carry, she took him anyway, propping her as best as she could on her hip while the latter took his place close to her side and protecting her son’s back. Kaden sobbed into her neck, his arms tightening around her neck. “You’re okay, sweetie,” she murmured kissing the side of his head and running a hand up and down his back.

“Are you two packing?”

“Always,” Connall answered gruffly, clearly pissed off at the situation.

She nodded. “Good. That was the head of the Illyrian Mob and I can guarantee there are more in here. Get Azriel on the phone, now.”

Fenrys was already pulling the device from his pocket while Connall stepped up close enough to tell her, “I’m so fucking sorry, Elain. I should’ve had Fenrys come back to you. I should’ve—”

“Connall,” she said, interrupting his apologies. “This wasn’t a coincidence. He sought me out and he would’ve shown up whether you two were there or not,” she told him earnestly. They didn’t have time to dwell on the what haves. “Let’s just get out of here.”

He swore under his breath, still pissed with himself.

“Yes sir, they are both with us. We’re heading back out to the car,” Fenrys said into his phone. He looked at her. “She’s holding Kaden right now. I’ll hand her the phone once we’re securely in the car.”

Something prickled at her skin as they reached the parking lot, eyes darting around the asphalt. That’s when she saw them. One man by the entrance, another near one of the cart returns; two were next to identical-looking SUVs. Everywhere she looked, she saw a suit-clad man just standing there. Waiting… And every single pair of eyes were on them. On her and the distressed child she was carrying.  

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. “We are being watched,” she announced to her security team.

Both of the men reached for their weapons as Fenrys relayed the information to her husband.

Elain threaded her fingers through Kaden’s thick locks, holding his head tucked into her neck so he couldn’t see what was happening.

Not a single man moved toward them, but that didn’t mean they weren’t going to try anything. The Moonbeam twins were deadly accurate, but it didn’t matter though. They were outnumbered. She had already counted ten of Frankie’s associates, and those were the only ones she could see.

Something flashed in the corner of her eye. She twisted her head to catch a bike flying toward them, coming to a screeching halt right in front of them.

Fenrys and Connall had their guns drawn as the person took off their helmet, platinum white hair swishing as she shook it out. Golden eyes turned on her. “Mrs. Archeron-Knight?” she asked.

Elain blinked, but Fenrys snarled out, “Who the fuck are you?”

She flashed a deadly smile. “My name is Manon Blackbeak. Your husband,” she nodded at Elain, “has asked me and my team to escort your SUV back to Velaris.”

A roaring sound echoed in the distance and then there were twelve other bikes, paired up as they flew across the parking lot to stop behind Manon.

“I—” she stuttered, not knowing what to say. “Who are you?”

“We’re called the Thirteen. He will explain what we do once we get you home.”

Elain was about to demand more of an explanation, but then she saw the men retreating. Every single one of them. Her eyes slid back to the woman in front of her, then down the team she had with her, all women if the body shapes were anything to go by. But then a phone was being placed against her ear and her husband’s voice was speaking.

“Elain.” He sounded terrified. “Love, Manon and her team are on my payroll. You can trust them to get you and Kaden home safely. Please get into the car.”

Just hearing his voice sent relief washing over her. Because if he trusted this woman and her team to keep them safe, then she knew she could too. “Let’s go,” she commanded, moving forward. Only once they were all inside the vehicle and back on the highway did she speak to her husband, reassuring him they were okay and giving him a lowdown on what happened.

He was in the garage when they pulled in, Manon and her team circling the driveway once and then departing with a salute to Azriel and her.

She was crushed in his arms, his mouth kissing her fiercely. “Are you guys all right?” he breathed, holding her at arm’s length and inspecting every inch of her.

Connall pulled Kaden from his booster seat, the little boy running around the car and slamming into his father’s legs.

Azriel wasted no time in lifting him onto his hip, kissing his temple before pulling her back into his embrace.

“We’re okay. Startled and anxious, but otherwise fine,” she reassured him.

He pulled them into the house, the twins slipping in behind them on silent feet. Az set them in the living room, tugging her down beside him while Kaden clung to his strong shoulders.

“How’d you get a team there so fast?” she asked, still trying to figure it out. Fenrys approached from the kitchen, handing her a cup of hot, peppermint tea. She smiled up at him in thanks.

“They were in Hewn for another job. I sent Manon an SOS text that took priority over what they were doing.

She raised a brow. “What other job?”

Azriel took her hand and placed a kiss across her knuckles. “Handling the remaining members of Hybern’s gang. I’ve had them hunting down the last of them since that night in the warehouse. There were rumors they wanted to seek revenge for the killing of their leader.”

The words were bloody and brutal, but she didn’t flinch. Not when those men held her captive in a warehouse, stabbed her thigh leaving a permanent scar on her pale flesh. No, she understood why her husband continued his pursuit of those animals.

She squeezed his hand in the reassurance that she understood why he was doing what he was, that she was okay with it, and that she agreed with his methods. His grip tightened in response.

They spent the following hour going over the next steps in how to handle the situation. Thoroughly exhausted from the ordeal, Kaden had fallen asleep on her husband’s shoulder and was now lying across one of the plush chairs with a blanket. The twins departed not long after Kaden fell asleep, leaving them to figure things out.

“I know you want to keep us safe, Az, believe me, I get it, but we need to figure out a compromise with them. I don’t want our children growing up always looking over their shoulders, just waiting to be attacked or kidnapped.”

He was hunched over, elbow braced on his knees. “There is no compromise with them. Frankie and Nicklaus are utterly ruthless.”

She gripped his bicep. “Everyone has a compromise. We just need to know—” Elain froze, the words falling from her lips.

Az swiveled his head to look at her, sitting up straight at whatever was showing on her face. “What is it, Elain?”

Brown eyes blinked, going back to the conversation she had with the eldest brother. Something he said was starting to tingle that sixth sense of hers. “He has a kid,” she breathed.

Brows furrowed. “Frankie?” Azriel asked, clearly confused. “No, he doesn’t. I would know if he had a kid. There’s not even a whisper of him having an heir.”

She shook her head. “Even if the child was over ten years old? You weren’t involved in their doing when we graduated high school, Az. And even the first few years after. What if he had a kid before then?”

He was looking at her now, eyes flicking between hers as he contemplated her words. “What did he say to make you think he has a kid?”

“He was trying to hint at what to get us,” her husband growled at that and she squeezed his arm again to stop him from interrupting. “But he said it had been a while since he bought anything from a baby store. I can’t see him buying baby things for somebody else, but I can see him doing it for his flesh and blood.”

Az was out of his seat and pacing the length of the living room. “That has to be it. He’s got a kid.” He stopped and turned to look at her. “If they were born when my father was alive, Frankie would’ve done anything to prevent him from finding out. He’d never let the bastard get close enough to hurt something so precious to him.” A colorful curse passed from between his parted lips. “I need to call Ruhn. If there’s a child, he has to be sending money to them and their mother. There’s no way he’d just abandon them, not if he took caution to hide them.”

“Azriel,” she said, rising from her spot on the couch. “If he does have a kid, what are you going to do with the knowledge?”

He met her gaze, and read the underlying question she didn’t need to say out loud. “I’m going to offer him a deal.”

~~~~~

Azriel rode up the elevator to the top floor of the building where the Illyrian Mob gathered to conduct their business. It wasn’t as large or fancy as his empire, but they also didn’t make the money that he did. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug about that.

In the metal box with him were four armed guards. He was stripped of his weapons upon entry and patted down indecently enough that he told the man to at least buy him dinner first. The comment, it seemed, wasn’t appreciated.

Nobody else was with him. He hated thinking about how hard Elain cried last night when he told her that he was entering the metaphorical lion’s den defenseless. Azriel knew that a lot of Elain’s emotions were hormone-based, which was why she couldn’t see his reasoning behind the need to go alone.

“Take the twins. Take Ruhn for fuck’s sake, Az! Just please don’t go in there alone.” Tears ran down her cheeks.

He stooped down to kneel in front of her. “Love, I have to go alone. If anyone else comes with me, they’ll deem it a threat. You know it has to be this way.” He reached up to wipe the tears away with his thumbs.

“I need you, Azriel,” she whispered, terrified. “Kaden needs you. Our babies need you. Please don’t go alone.”

There was nothing he could do but hold her as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Elain.”

It was the only time he’d ever disappoint his wife. Because here he was, weaponless and alone entering the office of the two men he hated most in the world. One of the guards knocked on the large doors, waiting for the snarled, “Enter.”

Like he was the motherfucking king, the guards gave him a double-door entrance, catching both of his brothers off guard.

Surprise, motherfuckers, he wanted to say, instead, settling on a lazy grin.

Nick reacted first, drawing his gun.

But Azriel threw up both of his hands in surrender. “Relax, Nicklaus. I am unarmed. Your guards downstairs made sure of it.” He dropped his arms when his brother lowered his gun slightly. “Do they always manhandle your visitors or am I just special because they know I got the impressive size of the family?” He was asking for trouble, but after getting his cock cupped by the fucker and still hearing his wife’s desperate pleas in his head, he was in a mood.

They ignored the quip. Damn.

Frankie leaned back in his seat. “Well, this is a surprise.”

Az cocked a brow. “Is it, brother? After you went after my wife and child?” He couldn’t stop the iciness of his tone, still raging over what happened a few weeks before. It had taken some time to track down what he needed to have this conversation and since then, he’d been on fucking edge.

“Did I actually go after them?”

He didn’t dare let his mask waiver. “Seeking her out at a baby store, sending an assault-sized team there, seems like an attempt to go after my pregnant wife and son.” He moved to take a seat across the desk from them, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat. “But I am willing to let that go.”

That had him frowning, the other looking equally as puzzled. “All right, I’ll bite,” Frankie said at last. “Why would you let that go?”

Azriel slipped his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, unlocking it and bringing up the image of Frankie’s best-kept secret. “Because of her.”

Silence wrapped around them like a shadow of discomfort as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

Frankie shot out of his chair, gun raised and poised to fire. “What the fuck is this, Azriel? Have you come to threaten me on my own turf? Because I swear to God I will fucking end you here and leave your wife to raise those spawn by herself.”

He let the threat roll right off his back, already expecting that reaction, which confirmed what he knew to be true. “Relax, Frankie. Nobody’s threatening anybody.” Az swiveled his phone to look at the girl on the screen and then began reciting the information he had gained about the girl. “Anya Velasco, sixteen; daughter of Delilah Velasco and,” he paused, glancing up at his fuming brother, “Francisco Matteo. Nice try in the change of the last name. Even on the birth certificate too. As if you could wipe your tainted image from her record” His eyes flitted back to the screen. “She’s pretty. Looks just like her mother, thank fuck, but I can see you there too. Her cheek structure and coloring. That’s all Illyrian.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you here,” Frankie snarled, finger never wavering from the trigger.

Az sighed, like this was the most inconvenient part of his day, tapping on the video call for a number labeled as “Rico’s Pizza.” It was Ruhn’s number, answering the call so that it showed Anya walking between classes at school. “You did a pretty thorough job in trying to hide her, Frankie, I’ll give you that. It took a lot of digging into your financials, but something stuck out to me. A random off-shore account that has been linked to your empire making very large donations and monthly payments to a private school housed deep in the northern mountains.” He grinned; letting a little bit of that darkness out with it. “Well, I for one, thought that seemed suspicious.

“Here’s what I think happened. You got the girl pregnant in high school. Wanting to protect her from father’s wrath, you hid her, I’m assuming with help…” he eyed Nick briefly, but he would’ve been fifteen at the time. “Alec if I had to take a guess. He was father’s right hand and you his. You could trust him. So, you paid off the girl and sent her up north to some remote area, paying her handsomely for her troubles and keeping her hidden for the last sixteen years. How am I doing so far?”

Frankie’s tanned face was flushed red in fury.

Checkmate brother.

“Choose your words wisely, brother,” Nick snapped, gun held tight in his grip. “They may be your last.”

He raised a brow. “Would be a shame if that happened,” Az muttered, clicking the end button on his video call. “Because if I don’t give the all clear to my associate in the next ten minutes, he’s to take both Anya and Delilah and run. And believe me, his resourcefulness means you will never see them again.”

“I thought you said you weren’t threatening,” Frankie demanded.

“I’m not. I said take, not kill.”

The brothers shared a look. “Why are you here?” Nicklaus finally asked.

His mouth curled up in the corner. “I’m here to make a deal. But first, you two need to lower the fucking guns before I get pissed off.”

It took them a few heartbeats, but finally, Frankie lowered his gun, setting it on the table so it still pointed at him. Nicklaus followed not a second after. “What’s your deal?” the former questioned.

Azriel reclined in his seat, fingers steepling together. “No harm will ever come to Anya and Delilah. Not by me or anyone on my crew. And they would have the full protection of the Velaris Mob. Between the two of us, they’d be untouchable.”

Frankie considered this. “And in exchange?”

“You provide the same promise and protection for my wife and children.” Az didn’t expect an agreement immediately, so he tossed out there, “If I found them, that means somebody else could as well. I know you like to keep your cards close to your chest, Frankie, but I’m sitting here with a royal flush and you know it.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “If somebody threatened them—”

“Then you would have my full support to wage war against whoever did so. Just as I would have yours if the roles were reversed.” And he meant it. Azriel had no desire to see harm come to that child, and he’d never allow Ruhn to hurt her or her mother just to get Frankie to agree to this. They would live in hiding, but they would be well cared for. And anyone who tried otherwise would face his wrath.

His brother looked at Nicklaus and sighed. “All right, Azriel. You have yourself a deal.” He reached across the desk, taking his hand in a tight shake.

As he rode down in the elevator, collecting his weapons and making his way to his car, Az sent Ruhn the all-clear signal. He called Elain on the way home, letting her know he was safe. She sobbed into the receiver, her overwhelming relief that he was returning to her. He soothed her as best as he could, but during that call, Azriel saw an image of his life in the future. He and Elain stood watching their little ones running around the backyard of their home, happy and laughing and full of so much life and love that his chest physically began to ache.

Because for the first time in a very long time, the dream Azriel pictured for himself was finally coming true.

~~~~~

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[seokmthw]

oh shit, are we in love? | zhang hao

⇢ pairing: zhang hao x reader

⇢ warnings: fluff, a smidge of angst, brief mentions of a toxic relationship

⇢ word count: 1.5k

prompt #5 "you don't have to be so brave with me"

prompt #12 "let's kiss and see where it takes us"

⇢ note: i realized i'm severely lacking zhang hao on my main masterlist and saw this request sitting in my inbox and just had to write it. i went a little crazy with the word count, but hao is so easy for me to write for so it came naturally to me. i hope you all enjoy!

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you sniffled, hand coming up to wipe the stinging hot tears away from your eyes, which were focused on the screen of your phone, an image of you and your now ex-boyfriend on full display for you to see. you’d been managing your breakup a lot worse than you anticipated, and when the photo had shown up in your memories, it caused something within you to snap and you cried harder than you have over the past several months since your breakup. maybe it was how happy you looked while he appeared to be losing his love for you, or maybe it was because you longed so badly for something like that again, but you just couldn’t stop the flow of your tears once they started.

throughout your mourning process, you relied very heavily on zhang hao, a boy you met in your music class a couple of semesters ago. he was always there for you when you needed him and made time for you even when he was busy with something. he was the type of person whose presence alone was comforting and you were grateful to have someone like him in your life.

you'd grown almost a little too fond of zhang hao. every little brush of his hand against yours or the hug he gave you when you needed it the most shouldn't have been making the butterflies in your belly flutter around, but they did, and you weren't sure what to make of it. part of you wondered if it was too soon, or if he might be the person you dreamed of being with all along, but you didn't want to ruin what you currently had and decided to keep your lips sealed.

during your most recent state of hysteria, you texted him something almost incoherent about not wanting to be alone and needing him by your side more than ever, but now that you had calmed down a little bit, you tried taking back your words and apologizing to him. but hao was stubborn, and despite being in the middle of his violin practice, he responded quickly and told you he was packing his things up and would be on his way soon.

you felt a little guilty, sure, but the bigger majority of your brain was just ecstatic he would be there, and you'd be able to vent and be in his presence. almost as if on a queue, the sound of his knuckles rapping lightly against your door was echoing throughout your room, mingling with a sniffle as you rose from your nest of blankets on your bed and shuffled to the door.

pulling the heavy, wooden object toward you, hao greeted you with gentlest and softest smile you think you'd ever seen from him. you stepped aside, allowing him entry into your room - which was a disaster, but he never really cared - and watched as he set his belongings down on the floor at the foot of your bed. you shut the door, turning around to be greeted with his arms outstretched, welcoming you to melt into him whenever you were ready.

it didn't take long, because within mere seconds you had your arms secured around his waist and your cheek resting on his chest. hao's arms wrapped around your shoulders, enveloping you in a warmth you didn't know you needed, and he rested his chin atop your head.

you sighed, new tears springing into your eyes and dripping onto your cheeks, and inevitably soaking through the fabric of his sweatshirt. you squeezed him slightly, desperate to get him as physically close to you as possible while mumbling, “thank you for coming here, i’m sorry i interrupted your violin practice.”

“hey now, you don't have to be sorry,” his voice was soft as he spoke, “besides, the instructor often wonders why i even show up because he thinks i’m a musical genius. when i told him i needed to go, he barely even let me finish my sentence and was practically pushing me out of the door.”

“well still, you didn't have to come at all. it's just me being a little ridiculous anyway,” you replied, finally pulling away from him and motioning for him to join you in snuggling down under your blankets.

he crawled into the bed beside you, allowing you to settle down into his side, your head resting gently on his shoulder as he pulled the thick comforter over the two of you. hao glanced down at you, parting his lips to speak, “emotions you feel are never ridiculous you know. you can talk about whatever it is you want and i will never judge you or think you're being silly.”

you nodded, hesitant to even say anything at all, so instead you just allowed your eyes to flutter shut, letting your words die in your throat so you didn't mess up and say the wrong thing.

hao was quick to notice, even though you felt you were hiding it pretty well. he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, concern evident in his expression as he said, “you don't have to be so brave with me. what’s on your mind?”

you shifted slightly, anxious to even think about beginning to tell him anything, but your mouth worked quicker than you mind, “it's just, throughout this whole breakup process, i think i’ve realized i have feelings for someone and it feels so soon but so right and i don't know what to do.”

“you're a human being, it's only natural you have feelings for people. besides, it's been months since your breakup and you're allowed to move on if you want to,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“i’m just scared it'll ruin everything,” you replied, averting your gaze from his to find interest in your chipping nail polish instead.

“well, if they're someone who truly cares about you, then they wouldn't let it ruin anything,” unbeknownst to you, he never looked away from you, “maybe you could tell them, the worst that could happen is that they say no.”

you sighed, “that's thing, i did just tell him.”

looking up, you caught the shocked expression of hao. the corners of your mouth twitched up ever so slightly, voice barely above a whisper as you said, “it's you, hao.”

the look on his face was incredibly difficult for you to read. you could feel panic beginning to settle in, knowing you had more than likely screwed everything up, and you couldn't help the tears that began to fall again. the only thing you could manage to say was “i’m sorry” in between your little cries, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as you could.

hao caught you off guard, pulling you back to him, hands cupping your face gently. he wiped the tears away with his thumbs, asking, “now why on earth are you sorry?”

“because i can tell you don't feel the same and that i just made everything so awkward,” you refused to make eye contact with him as you answered his question.

you heard a small chuckle slip past his lips, “y/n, you're not making anything awkward. i’m just surprised you return my feelings at all. why do you think i’ve always been so eager to spend time with you, even when i’m occupied with other things?”

now it was your turn to adorn a baffled look, jaw slightly agape as you processed his words. hao was the first to say something again, this time keeping your overall well-being in mind, “this doesn't have to move fast, it can be at whatever pace you want. it honestly could just not happen at all. tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you, i promise.”

“i-” you started, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water, desperate to find the right words. finally, you settled on, “let’s kiss and see where it takes us?”

you felt extremely shy asking, almost shrinking into yourself at such an absurd request, but hao wouldn't let you, because within mere seconds he was closing the distance between the two of you and molding his lips with yours. you gripped onto the front of his sweatshirt ever so slightly, eyes fluttering closed and the feeling of pure euphoria filling up every inch of your body.

you hadn't felt so seen or appreciated in a long time, and finally getting to kiss the boy you'd dreamed of for so long was almost surreal. you became putty in his hands, allowing him to pull you closer to his body, a string of kisses following suit.

you finally pulled away for air, your grin reflecting hao’s as you said, “i think i like where this is going.

“good,” he beamed, giving you another kiss in between his words, “because i do too.”

[puddle-nerd]

Golden Afternoon

Summary: Just two best friends enjoying the sunshine and a good book. (slight Lo’ak/Human Reader)

Prompt #1 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Na'vi Language, Na'vi & Human Interactions, Friends, Secret Crush

Na’vi Translation: Iknimaya – (Na’vi for “Stairway to Heaven”) is a treacherous but fundamental rite of passage in which a young Na’vi hunter must select, capture, and successfully bond with one of the ikran who nest in the Hallelujah Mountains

Ikran – also called “Mountain Banshees”, they are large, dragon-like aerial predators often tamed by tribes of Na’vi for thousands of years for traveling long distances, for hunting from the air, or even during times of war

Uniltìranyu – translated to dream-walker in the Na’vi language, it is another term meaning for genetically engineered human/Na’vi-hybrid bodies, designed to serve as a remotely controlled vessel for a human mind

AO3 Link

“Hey, ready to go, Mamas?”

You looked away from your self-appointed art project of redecorating the walls of your private bunk within the human compound and grinned up at the younger son of Jake Sully who was – unfortunately for him – grounded once again for going out with Spider and doing something stupid and reckless. So, with no flying and no access to his best male friend for the next two weeks, that meant you more or less had him all to yourself. Not that you were complaining in the slightest. You had had a crush on him for the last three years since you turned eleven and it didn’t look to be going away any time soon. “Yeah,” you agreed, putting your paintbrush into the dirty cup of water so it wouldn’t solidify. Again. He squinted, stepping into your bedroom and peered closely at the scene you were painting on your metallic wall just for the hell of it. “Am I dressed okay?”

The Na’vi hybrid glanced over your outfit of light blue overall shorts and a white tee shirt and nodded. Then turned his gaze back onto what you had been working on. “You’re getting good,” he complimented and you beamed up at him, your cheeks turning rosy as you muttered back a shy ‘thank you’. You shuffled off your messy bed and located your boots and the socks you wanted to wear with them and slid them on – not in that order, though. “Oh, hey, bring the book.”

You grabbed the old novel that had been republished about some sixty years prior back on Earth and followed him out of your room and to the nearest exit of the compound, grabbing a mask in the airtight antechamber as he put his nitrogen mask back on the proper hook. Once it was secured in place upon your face, he opened the vestibule door and you stepped outside into the beautiful world of Pandora. You were always in awe of the world you had been born on and sometimes wished that you could breathe its air as easily as Lo’ak could. Alas, you were fully human and Norm had told you creating you an Avatar was out of the question until you were at least eighteen years of age. Hormones, he cited, which was bull shit but since you were just a kid, then there wasn’t really anything you could do about it until then. Besides, it was only another three years, seven months, and five days away. But who was counting?

The Na’vi hybrid rolled his golden eyes as he looked back over his shoulder and took in your expected look of awe. He reached down and scooped you up, laughing as you squeaked. Expertly, he moved you to sit on his shoulders while you carefully handled his neural queue so you didn’t accidentally sit on it.

“Careful, Mamas,” he cautioned you, as he did every time. “Sensitive, remember?”

You hummed your agreement, carefully draping the black braid over his shoulder to rest down his lean chest. With you now settled upon his shoulders, he took off, being able to move much faster than he would have if he had let you walk. You were nowhere near as fast as Spider was who was now reaching six feet tall at sixteen years of age so it made sense for Lo’ak to carry you. Plus, without you struggling to keep up, you could take in the scenery a lot better. Just like you liked to do.

Thinking of ages led you to consider upcoming birthdays.

“Hey, Lo,” you inquired, running your fingers idly through his braids as you continued to gaze at Eywa’s beautiful world. He grunted, letting go one of your calves briefly so he could get himself over a log that was surely your height. “Your birthday’s coming up, right? Have you thought about what you wanted? For your birthday?”

He paused and his ears twitched, tickling the insides of your knees as they did so. Then he shrugged, chuckling as you yelped as the movement threatened to topple you. His firm grip on your calves proved he had you steady, though. “I really just want to pass my Iknimaya,” he muttered, voice going flat. “It’s so embarrassing that I got thrown off the cliff. Neteyam did it his first try! Heck, even Dad did it his first try and he was a uniltìranyu at the time!” You shushed your best friend gently and laid your cheek atop his head, rubbing your face soothingly over his braids. He calmed, adding a quiet, “Sorry. It’s just… I’m not perfect like him and I swear Dad just constantly looks at me in disappointment.” He sighed and sniffed, going quiet for a while, just allowing you to continue petting him comfortingly. Then his ears twitched and he paused, asking, “Could you make those chocolate chip cookies again? A whole batch just for me?” You grinned, retorting, “As long as you don’t eat them all in one sitting and complain about a stomach ache later.” He huffed and nuzzled his temple into your knee, replying, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, nag.” “I nag because I care,” you countered. He squeezed your calves in a silent acknowledgement of your words and finally decided to stop next to a pond. Drawing you up and off his shoulders, he let you settle on the lush grass before he flopped onto his back and smiled up at you. Drawing out the ragged book, you settled yourself against his side and opened it to where the bookmark lay. Clearing your throat, you open my mouth and begin to read aloud as you have every day since Lo’ak’s most recent grounding, silently thinking to yourself that Lo’ak enjoyed the main character (despite her being a human female) because she was secretly just as much as an outcast as he felt most days, being “Divergent” and all. “Chapter twenty-one: the door to the Pit closes behind me, and I am alone. I have not walked this tunnel since the day of the Choosing Ceremony…” You continued to read through the chapter in the golden afternoon sunlight and was about to start the next one when Lo’ak suddenly let out a yawn behind you and you realized he was starting to fall asleep. You put the bookmark back into place and turned against Lo’ak’s stomach, leaning against him and just admiring his sleepy face. He mumbled, “I’m awake.” He immediately yawned widely, revealing his sharp canines. “Uh huh,” you teased. “Don’t fall asleep out here. You’ll be thanator chow in no time.” He snorted but pushed himself up and rubbed at his face. “Guess I should get you back,” he commented. “Can we do this again tomorrow?” You smiled and nodded, secretly hoping he was enjoying spending all the time he did with you as you did with him.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 03 February 2024 Word Count: 1,147

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee, @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

[gotcursed]

Would you be willing to write a headcanon combo of all the characters you write for on how enthusiastically they’d listen/dance to Chappell Roan?

sure!!! she's been big on my spotify rotation lately so this was fun :) kate got the most attention w this one bc i just know she’s so into chappell but there's a lil bit for all of 'em. also established bishova by accident hello???

agatha knows who chappell is because she’s a tiktok lurker. calls her the twinkly little cowgirl. with a fond smile.

kate pretends she isn’t as big of a fan as she is because she’s trying this thing where she tamps down the stan behavior because it almost drove clint away. and because being a stan with manhattan penthouse money is detrimental to her allowance (which isn’t so much an allowance anymore as it is just … her money bc the feds have eleanor and kate has access to the accounts that haven’t been seized). it’s silly to try and pretend she doesn’t love the things she loves but it helps that she’s not actually very good at pretending. she knows the school nights ep like the back of her hand because she believes in entire discography supremacy. likes the vocal differences between then and now, likes to be able to listen to someone’s growth. learned the term comphet in a good luck, babe! tiktok comment section. will wear merch shirts to the pizzeria and listen to hot to go! loud enough that the sound bleeds out of her headphones for anyone who passes to hear. she’ll do the dance while she microwaves that pizza for breakfast the next morning. calls it her ymca. will scream-sing good luck, babe! will jump on her bed and put on a messy lil concert of that one, too. says it tickles her soul like a past life lover. and if you dig around in her closet you’ll find a purple rhinestoned cowgirl hat.

maya likes her lyrics, thinks they’re smart and witty. the songs she can feel the best via bass and vibration when played real loud are super graphic ultra modern girl, femininomenon, and naked in manhattan.

natasha likes most music. and most things. her background (red room, espionage, superheroing) calls for adaptability. assimilation. she learned a long time ago to take everything in stride. there are things she likes more than others, of course, but most things are generally fine for her. she’ll make it all work. in that same vein it’s kind of hard for music to be really special to her. she mostly hears chappell when kate throws parties. she and yelena are similar in that dancing probably won’t happen unless someone else drags her into it.

wanda likes some of her slower songs. picture you, kaleidoscope, coffee, casual. likes when they come on shuffle. will queue them up to listen to while she reads, cooks, or gardens. 

yelena won’t listen to chappell on her own. won’t listen to much of anything on her own if it isn’t something she used to listen to with alexei when she was little. she’s one of those people who does most things without a soundtrack. most things in silence. including working out, which kate says is serial killer behavior. but she likes when kate plays chappell. she’ll nod along, tap her foot, start to smile. sometimes she’ll ask kate to play “naked in the city” even though she knows that’s not what it’s called. she just likes the little unimpressed face kate makes when she gets things wrong on purpose. yelena doesn’t really dance but every once in a while she’ll let kate pull her around the kitchen in a half-assed pantomime of it. she’ll sway to slower songs. she’ll hum along. and she'll always slow dance with kate to love me anyway.