#and the one piece live action?? i am enjoying myself way too much. i am trying to stay strong to resist the urge to watch the anime or pick

[bifairywife]

thank you for the tag @hollie47!!

People You'd Like To Get To Know Better

last song: me gustas tu by manu chao

favourite colour: lavenderrrr at the moment

currently watching: star trek lower decks (s3), one piece live action (ep6), & gen v (ep2)

last movie: flora and son (2023) - musical and a comedy-drama, a good 7.5/10 for me, def a breath of fresh air for me when it comes to musicals (brings me back to anna and the apocalypse)

last reading: managing diversity at workplace - a case study of hp - it was for my elective class, it's a very good read tho and i love all the diagrams drawn

sweet/spicy/savoury: all baybehhhh, love when you combine em too <33

last thing i googled: "ghost girl in old buzz lighyear movie" - her name was mira nova and she's one of my inspo for my star trek oc :3

current obsession: my star trek oc and her homeplanet - i have tons of notes on the homeplanet, as for my oc's bio i'll get on that hahajsdfhafaha

currently working on: (1) surviving prelim exams week, (2) working up the will to continue any of my invincible fic wips before s2 comes, (3) hyping myself up for my vampire lore au fic for jaysteph halloween eventtt

tag timeeee: @spellbook-gayboy @automatonkisser @lesbian-birdhouse @pendragora @ixorahh and anyone else that wanna join in!!

[badkitty3000]

Can you write Five (adult body) getting with a gorgeous woman for the first time and going on a bit of a power trip and just extreme edging and playing with her and kinda humiliating (actions not words)

Sorry this took a bit longer to write...I got a little carried away with this one and it ended up being longer than anticipated. But I loved this idea and I got very excited about it!

I decided to write this from Five's POV. I still consider this a reader-insert because the MC is not named. But there is no use of "you" in it, only "she" and "her".

Thank you so much for this request. It was really fun to write! 😽

Tamed

Five x Reader One-shot, 8143 words

Warnings: Smut, Edging, Physical age difference (older woman, younger man), everyone is an adult

I sigh heavily as I survey the shelf of cereal in front of me. I mull over my choices, humming quietly along with the Neil Diamond song playing on the grocery store speakers overhead. Wheaties, Grape Nuts, Cheerios. I wonder what the fiber to protein ratio is on these? God, I’m bored. Is this really my life, now? It’s true that I wanted a peaceful life without the threat of the world ending or the people I know getting obliterated and dying. And it was nice for a while, don’t get me wrong. I liked not having to worry about my family, now that they were all safe. And I didn’t need to act as a cold-blooded serial killer anymore. I could just be the normal man I had always wanted to be. But I’m beginning to think that normal equals boring.

I have my powers back, so at least there’s that. As much as I wanted a simple life for myself, that doesn’t mean I wanted to be just like everyone else in every way. Those years of having no powers were a downright nightmare, so thank Christ that didn’t last. So, yes, I can blink and time travel and kick the living shit out of almost anyone, but it’s still all so…ordinary. Most days I just wander around the city, enjoying the peace and quiet, but also wondering what to do next. There has to be something else, right?

I am still in the body of a much younger person, despite being mentally in my 60s. Physically, I’m around 20, and while I’m definitely not complaining, it has left a lot of years ahead of me. It has also complicated the dating scene. In the beginning, I had to wait it out a few years, and let me tell you, it’s rough being a horny old man in a 13 year old body. And a horny 13 year-old with the mind of an old man. But I did end up getting plenty of handjobs, so there’s that. Unfortunately, they were all self-executed.

But now…now, I am starting to reap more benefits of this strong and youthful body I found myself dumped back into all those years ago. Women notice me. Men notice me. And the attention is not half bad. It still leads to another dilemma, however.

Let’s say I would like to indulge in some adult activities with a woman. I have no problem finding someone to fill that role. That makes me sound like an asshole, but it’s true. On my way into the store today, I noticed a young woman looking me over like I was a piece of meat. I’m fairly certain that if I had wanted to, I could have strolled on over, struck up a conversation, and had her back at my place in an hour. I know this, because I’ve done it before. But afterwards, I feel like a real creep. They don't know my real age, obviously, and unless they have some unresolved daddy issues, I’m guessing they would be none too happy to find out. Not to mention there’s usually not a whole lot for the two of us to discuss. So, I ignored this most recent prospect and am now standing in front of a line of breakfast foods before heading on over to the soup aisle. 

I sigh heavily again.

“If you get the bigger box, it’s actually more economical, you know.”

I glance up, Fiber One cereal in hand, to find a woman standing next to me, the amusement on her face giving the impression that she’s up to something crafty. My mouth opens partly, but no sound comes out. She is maybe the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m talking supermodel-gorgeous. With her dark auburn hair and dramatic curves, I can’t stop staring like there’s something wrong with me. And here’s the real kicker: she’s probably in her mid-forties. Finally, I find my voice.

“Nope. I have a coupon, so…the smaller box is cheaper,” I offer, shaking the box in front of me with a smile. As if what I just said is a real panty dropper.

She nods, still smirking, and then I see her light brown eyes slowly move their way up my body until they’re back at my face again. One of her eyebrows quirks up playfully, insinuating she might like what she sees. She’s not even trying to hide it. 

“Shouldn’t you be buying Lucky Charms or something?”

I let out a small laugh and run a hand through my hair. “Do you mean, shouldn’t I be buying a kid’s cereal instead of something your grandpa probably eats?”

She shrugs. “Something like that.”

“Let’s just say my outward appearance is not a direct correlation to my mental maturity.”

She puts a hand on her hip and eyes me up and down again. “Is that so? Well, they say age is just a number, right? As long as that number is 18 or older.” She gives me a wink.

I almost keel over into the oatmeal, but I keep my cool. I return her flirtatious come-on with my own, flashing her a slanted smile as my gaze travels over her amazing body. I figure if she’s not going to be subtle, neither am I. 

“I can assure you two things. One, I am safely past that number. And two, if you need further proof, I’d be happy to demonstrate that I am most definitely not a kid.”

She lets out a breathy laugh and I pride myself on the fact that I may have flustered her.

“Cute and confident. I like that. Unless it’s all talk, of course.”

I cock my head to the side, a smug smirk on my face. “One way to find out.”

The corner of her mouth turns up, amused with this little game. “And what way is that?”

“Why don’t I whip it out and show you?”

I may have actually shocked her, because her eyes widen for just a split second before her devious grin is back. “Right here in the cereal aisle?”

I nod, and then reach into my pocket. I see her eyes wander down to my crotch. Then I pull out my wallet with a flourish and hold it up. She laughs loudly and genuinely, while I pretend I don’t understand, furrowing my brow in confusion.

“I was talking about my I.D. to show you my age. Did you think I meant something else?”

My face breaks into a grin and I put my wallet back. She smiles again. “Very clever. You must have a pretty big brain to go along with that handsome face.”

This a total, obvious set up, so of course I take the bait. “I haven’t had any complaints on size,” I answer, looking her dead in the eye.

She pauses for a second, as if mulling it over. Then she nods a little. “Hmmm,” she says, her pink lips pressed together. Without another word, she turns and starts pushing her cart down the aisle, away from me. I watch a little sadly, even though the view from behind is spectacular. I feel like I need to say something, so I call out.

“Aren’t you even going to give me your name?”

She doesn’t stop, but she answers back over her shoulder. “For now you can just call me Mrs. Robinson.” Then she pauses and turns to look at my stunned expression. “And if you understand that reference, then I hope we run into each other again very soon.”

I watch, dumbfounded, as she turns down the next aisle and is out of sight.

“Fuck,” I exhale out loud. Then I look down at my box of old man cereal and frown. “Of all the things I could be holding, did it have to be something that advertises the benefits of fiber? Couldn’t she have caught me with some wine or a goddamn box of magnum condoms?”

I glance up after I drop the box into my shopping basket, just as another woman passes by. This one, however, looks to be about 90 and is using a walker. Her confused look tells me there is nothing wrong with her hearing though, and she caught every word I just said out loud to myself. I smile, embarrassed.

“There’s good coupons in the ad today. Might want to check it out,” I offer.

She gives me a terse nod and she’s off, probably to buy the same cereal as me, and I head toward the check-out shaking my head at my dumbassery.

Five days later, and I’m back at the store. This isn’t my first trip back, hoping to run into the beautiful woman again. After learning through the way of the kid at the check-out that first day, I found out her name and situation. Apparently, she is quite the cougar on the hunt. At least according to Brad the bagger. She picks out a new piece of young, clueless arm candy at least once every couple of weeks. Even one of the stockboys in the back was chosen at one point. The stories he told the other guys at the store were legendary. She likes to be the teacher, and show them how to do things right. This is all hearsay, but I’m inclined to believe it after our little back-and-forth the other day.

She doesn’t know what I know, though. And that is the fact that I don’t need a teacher. I do things right the first time. And I do them pretty fucking well.

The woman has gotten under my skin. She is the excitement I have been looking for. And her age and my age, in this situation, aren’t a problem. It’s perfect, actually. So, each day since that day I saw her, I have been dressing in my black, three-piece suit and going back to the store. I look around, doing a few loops until I’m certain I’m not missing her, and then I buy some random item so I don’t look too suspicious. A carton of milk, a toothbrush, a stalk of celery. Brad the bagger has me figured out, though, and he gives me a lopsided smile that I know means “Better luck next time”.

This time, though, when I make my way down the frozen food aisle, I stop when I hear a voice from behind me.

“How did that cereal work out for you? Did you get enough fiber intake?”

I smile to myself before turning around. I put my hands in my pants pockets and spin on my heel, facing her head-on. She’s just as fucking gorgeous as the first time I saw her. Maybe even more. The tight, white, button-down shirt she is wearing is sleeveless, and I can see she is wearing a black bra underneath. It shows off her toned, tanned arms and just enough of her cleavage to make it interesting. The small shorts she has on are hugging her hips just right and those eyes of hers are framed in dark lashes that blink slowly as she looks me over. 

“Yes, actually. I think I got all of my nutritional needs met, thank you.”

She nods. “Nice suit.”

“Thanks.”

“You know, I wasn’t really sure I’d be seeing you again, but I’m glad we ran into one another. Must be fate.”

I nod. “Must be.” Then I give her a grin. “I definitely have not been coming here everyday hoping to run into you.”

Her eyebrows raise in surprise. “Well, you’re not very subtle, are you? I never did get your name.”

“Five Hargreeves,” I say, extending my hand.

Since the reset, the Hargreeves name lives on. If you bear the name of my adoptive, world-dominating father, that automatically means you are special. We all have powers and everyone knows it. But the Umbrella Academy as a team has ceased to exist, even in people’s memories. So, she doesn’t know who I am and it just sounds like I have a number as a name for no reason. Some of my siblings have changed their names to try and start over with a clean slate; hiding their powers from the rest of the public. Not me. I’m too old and set in my ways. Besides…I could have picked a different name a long time ago and chose not to. No use in doing it now.

“Hargreeves? So, you’re one of them?”

She takes my hand in hers to shake it, leaving it linger just a little too long. Her question isn’t accusatory or judgmental in any way. She only sounds curious.

“I am,” I answer, but I don’t follow it up with any detail.

“So what can you do?”

Her question is obviously about my powers, but I’d rather keep our little game going.

“Many, many impressive things.”

She gives me a half smile and nods her approval. “Five huh? Interesting. Well, my name is not actually Mrs. Robinson, as I’m sure you figured out. It’s –”

I interrupt her. “I know who you are.”

“Oh really? Am I that famous around here?”

“Seems that you are. You have quite the reputation.” I pause. “In a good way.”

She smiles coyly again. Then she turns to the glass doors of the freezers that are lined up against the wall. She opens the door and reaches in to grab a bag of vegetables, a white cloud puffing up around her from the cold. When she closes the door again, she turns to face me. I glance down at her chest. The cold air has caused her nipples to harden and are clearly visible through her tight shirt. She sees me notice and lets me stare for a few more seconds before dropping the bag into the basket looped over her arm.

“Since you’re here, would you mind helping me with something?” she asks, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

Her question jolts me out of my little daydream of running my tongue and teeth over those delicious looking peaks and I rub the back of my neck.

“Of course.”

She points back at the freezer. “Can you reach something on the top shelf for me?”

I nod and she opens the door, the blast of cold air hitting us both in the face. We’re standing close to one another now and I can see the fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. It somehow makes her look even sexier.

“What do you need?” I ask. She’s a couple inches shorter than me and I look down at her.

Her eyes don’t move off of mine when she answers. “I need some sausage.”

I almost laugh directly in her face, and I can see she is trying to hold it together, too. But we’re both having too much fun to break now. I glance up to the top shelf and sure enough, there is a box of breakfast sausages. I put my hand on one of them.

“These?”

She shakes her head. “The big one.”

With a giant grin, I grab the bigger box and pull them down. Then I close in on her, until we’re so close her perfect tits are practically rubbing against my chest. I see her take in a sharp breath.

“That’s the one,” she says with a nod. “Just put it in my basket. If it will fit.”

“Don’t worry. I can make it fit,” I say as I smirk and look down at the almost-full shopping basket.

There’s a small opening along the side and I push the box into it, shoving it in to make a snug fit.

“See? Perfect fit,” I assure her as my hand brushes against her bare arm. “You just have to know how to slide it in.”

We stand there a second longer, our bodies so close I am having a hard time not pulling her in and fucking her into the frozen tater tots. The ridiculous innuendos are making us smile, though, and pretty soon we’re both laughing. Her laugh is nice and I like hearing it. It feels good to laugh with someone.

“So, Five…do you still have more shopping to do?”

I look down at my empty hands, then back at her. “Nope. I got what I came for.”

With another thoughtful nod, she sets her basket on the floor. “You know, I just remembered I left my wallet at home, so I guess I won’t be able to pay for these.”

“That’s a shame. You probably shouldn’t be driving without a license, either. Maybe I should take you home.”

She reaches out and slowly pulls my tie out from inside the vest of my suit, running two fingers down the silk edge of it before dropping it again. 

“Well, aren’t you such a nice young man? You must have been a boy scout.”

I shake my head and put my hands back in my pockets, trying not to moan directly in her face from her touch and the way she’s looking at me. “Not exactly.”

She shrugs and turns around, walking away. Apparently, I am supposed to follow her like an obedient little puppy. And I will for right now. I can play this game, too. I’ll let her think I’m some dumb kid that doesn’t know how to work a vagina and will cum all over her hand the first time she touches my dick. But she doesn’t know I’m about to prove her very, very wrong. I exchange looks with Brad the bagger, who is giving me a thumbs up, as I follow her out the doors.

I lead her to my car, and she stops when we reach it, surprised at what she’s seeing.

“Wait, this is your car?”

“Why? You don’t like it?”

She shakes her head. “No, no, it’s great. It’s just I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be a Corvette Stingray guy.”

I walk around to the passenger side and open the door for her. It’s a nice day out and I have the top down. It’s also freshly washed, so the blue paint is shining. I watch her legs and ass as she slips inside onto the leather seat, and I close the door gently. When I cross over to the driver’s side and get in, she looks over at me with a smile and it doesn’t even feel awkward. We know what we’re doing, so there’s no need to try and pretend something else is going on here. 

“Where to?” I ask, turning the key in the ignition. The car roars to life.

Once she gives me directions, I peel out of the parking lot, rounding the corner at top speed and head out onto the main road. I like to drive fast, and when I look over at her, she is laughing; her hair blowing behind her in the wind and the sun shining on her face. Seeing her happy and excited like that makes me feel good. I kick it into fourth and whip around the cars in front of me.

We arrive a few minutes later. She lives in an unassuming house in an unassuming neighborhood. When she unlocks the door and lets me inside, I take a look around. The house is clean, tidy, and tasteful. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Maybe leopard print sofas or a sex swing in the middle of the living room. But, no, this is very much a normal looking home. 

“Please, make yourself at home,” she says, gesturing to the living room we’re standing in before walking into the open kitchen that is right next to it.

I shrug off my suit coat and do away with my tie, laying them across the back of an armchair. I unbutton the top couple buttons of my shirt and roll up my sleeves as I join her in the kitchen.

“Would you like a beer?” she asks, her hand on the refrigerator door.

I can’t stop staring at her, and I’m dying to see that body that I know is fucking gorgeous under those clothes. But, I wait.

“Actually, do you have any scotch?” I ask.

She looks surprised and then she tilts her head. “Yes, I do. I have damn good scotch, in fact.”

“Great.”

She points to a cabinet. “In there. There’s glasses just to the left.”

As I turn to open the cupboard, I say something about how I’m impressed with her choice of booze. I pull the stopper out and fill two glasses halfway.

“Most of my guests don’t appreciate good quality scotch.”

I hand her a glass and take a sip from my own. She’s right; it’s damn good.

“I’m willing to bet I’m not like most of your usual guests.”

She eyes me up over her glass and shakes her head. “No. So far, you’ve been surprising me.” She takes a drink and lowers her glass again. “So, these powers you have. What are they, exactly?”

This is the perfect invitation and my mouth pulls into a smirk. I set my glass down on the counter behind me. With no warning, I blink the few feet that separates us and I reappear almost on top of her, with my body brushing against hers as she audibly gasps.

I place a hand on the side of her neck, my thumb rubbing lightly across her cheek. “That,” I answer, before using my other hand to take her glass and set it down behind her.

I can see and feel her chest starting to rise and fall at a more rapid pace as she stares up at me, her lips slightly parted. I don’t want to wait anymore, so I lean in for a kiss. It’s soft at first, but when I feel her mouth respond to mine, it becomes more heated. Soon, I am pulling her to me with an arm around her waist. My hand is still on her neck, and I chance it by giving her hair a soft tug from behind. I hear her breathe in sharply through her nose and she presses into me further.

When we finally break away from one another, our heads still close together, we are breathing hard and fast. I push my groin against her so she can feel what she’s doing to me. I see a small smile form on her lips.

“Is this what you’ve been wanting from me?” I ask quietly.

She lets out a very soft sigh and closes her eyes before opening them again and pushing back against me.

“Among other things,” she says.

I nod before diving back onto her mouth again, hungry for more. Her hands run down my back and down to my waist, then back up my arms. I love the feeling of her hands on me and it’s getting me even more riled up.

I stop again, leaving her breathless. Without bothering with anymore questions, I rip her shirt open down the front, tearing the buttons apart until it’s fully open and I slide it down her arms, letting it drop to the floor. She doesn’t try to stop me and when I take a few seconds to admire the view of her magnificent tits in the thin black bra she is wearing, she gives me a smile. I run my hands over them and she tilts her head back.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” I tell her. When she looks back at me, I raise one eyebrow. “But I think you already know that. Don’t you, honey?”

She gives me a small laugh. “Honey?”

I put my hands on either side of her waist and pull her in with a sharp tug and suddenly she’s not smiling anymore. But she is clutching at my shirt on my back.

“You know exactly what you’re doing with that amazing body of yours. And you like it when you have to show your little boy toys how to handle it, don’t you?”

She is looking up at me in surprise, her chest flush with mine and my dick grinding into her. She takes a loud breath in and her hands fall to my waist. Her mouth twitches up at the corner and she shakes her head.

“Damn. You figured me out.”

My hands find their way down to the front of her shorts and I start to slowly unbutton and unzip them, all while looking her directly in the eyes. I do not return her smile. I want her to know I mean business.

“That’s not what’s going to happen this time.”

I push her shorts down and they drop to the floor at her feet. Her small, black panties match the bra and I immediately want to tear those off, as well.

“What is going to happen, then?” she asks, still trying to maintain her air of coolness, but I can see I’m getting to her when she swallows hard.

I don’t answer, but I do drop to my knees in front of her and look up at her shocked face. I yank the panties down in one motion and she steps out of them. With one more look back up, I lean in and drag my tongue up her slit; slowly and deliberately, while she lets her eyes close and her head fall back. A soft whimper escapes her throat and her hips push subtly into me. She tastes so good, just like I knew she would, and I give her another long lick.

“We’re going to have some fun,” I tell her, before giving her a soft kiss right onto her sensitive mound. She makes another breathy noise above me, and I take that to mean she likes my plan.

I know she still doesn’t realize everything I am capable of yet, but she will. I have decided, as a personal challenge to myself, that by the time I am through with her she will be begging me for more. I’m going to ruin her so that she won’t even be able to think of anyone else but me. And I’m not going to stop until this wild cat is a domesticated house kitty, purring in my lap. The thought makes me grin salaciously before my mouth is back on her.

I don’t bother starting out slow. I’m eating her out, sucking at her clit and flicking my tongue over and into every crevice, all while gripping her thighs so tightly my fingers are digging into her skin. She moans out loud, and I push her roughly backward until she is clutching at the edge of the counter and her ass is up against it. I pull my face off of her just long enough for me to take a hand and slap the inside of one of her thighs. She looks down at me, startled.

“Spread them for me,” I demand.

She follows my instructions, widening her stance, and I go back in for more. I could eat this pussy all day, and I shove my tongue inside of her. Her slick is pouring out of her the more I work her over; coating my mouth in her delicious taste. The loud breathing and even louder moans I hear are turning me on and my cock is straining inside my pants.

“Fff…oh my g-ahhh…yes yes…ff-iii…”

I let out a tiny laugh because the sounds and words she’s saying make no sense. I can’t tell if she wants to say my name or curse, but either way I know I’m doing something right. I’ve got her brain all scrambled, which is what I was aiming for.

I keep going, fucking her with my hungry mouth while she gets more and more worked up. Her whines are becoming higher in pitch and she’s desperately trying to grind against my face. When I feel her hand on my head, her fingers laced in my hair, I know I’ve got her. She tries to push my face harder into herself.

“Five…keep going…more…” she stutters out, and I know she’s teetering on the edge.

Instead of letting her come all over my face, I immediately back off. She tries to pull me back in, but I don’t let her. I look up at her as I catch my breath, my mouth wet from her dripping pussy, and I love how fucking desperate and sad she looks right now.

“What…fuck…I was right there,” she pants, as if she thinks I made some mistake and I didn’t realize she was about to finish.

I shake my head slowly, like the smug asshole I am, and rise up until I’m looking down on her again. Her chest is heaving and she’s looking at me like she can’t quite believe what is happening.

“I know, sweetheart. That wasn’t fair, was it?” I ask condescendingly before giving her a kiss on her cheek.

She stares at me in disbelief for a second before one side of her mouth quirks up. “You were right. This is not how I thought this was going to go.”

I stroke her cheek and brush a piece of hair off her forehead. My movements are slow and gentle, and I’m taking my time. 

“But do you like it?” I ask quietly, before guiding her face to look at me with a hand on her chin.

She swallows nervously again, but that tiny smile is still there and there’s a hungry spark in her eyes. She nods.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

When she pulls me by my belt loops, hard so that my groin slams into her, I chuckle. “The more you want it, the more I’m going to make you wait.”

Her eyebrows draw together with frustration. It’s the first time she’s looked significantly younger than her age, and she almost appears to be on the verge of a temper tantrum. I can tell she’s used to getting her way all the time. I like teasing her, but I also don’t want to be that much of a jerk. Plus, holding out is killing me, too.

“How about this, I’ll give you a choice. I can either fuck you here, on the kitchen countertop; or we can go to the bedroom. Whichever you want.”

She makes a little gutteral noise in her throat and her eyes flutter close for half a second. She tries to push against me again, but I don’t let her.

“Bedroom,” she whispers.

I nod, pleased with her choice. There will be a bigger work area for me there. She takes me by the hand, leading me down a hallway. I know she’s a little embarrassed, because she’s completely undressed except for her bra, and I still have all of my clothes on. It further drives home the point that I’ve taken the reins here.

Once we’re in the bedroom, she tries to pounce on me again, but I gently push her back onto the bed. She doesn’t say anything, just looks up at me with those beautiful brown eyes and waits. I think she’s starting to understand the game now. As she watches, I strip off my shirt and pants. Then I climb over the top of her in nothing but my boxers. She immediately lies down on her back beneath me.

I begin kissing her again; hot, open-mouth kisses that have her shoving her tongue inside my mouth and pulling me down on top of her. I reach around to unhook her bra and throw that off to the side somewhere. Now she’s completely naked and I just have to take a minute to admire the view.

I raise up on my forearms, pulling away from her mouth, and look below me. Fuck. I’m not sure how it’s possible that I ended up with this absolute work of art that is dying for my dick inside of her right now, but here we are. It’s a goddamn miracle, is what it is. 

“Do you know how stunningly beautiful you are?” I ask sincerely, still not taking my eyes off her luscious curves.

This seems to make her a little flustered and I even see her blush a little. It has me thinking that maybe these dumbass toddlers that she’s been bringing back here haven’t exactly been as appreciative as I am. They apparently didn’t realize that they should have been worshiping her, not just fucking her and leaving. What a tragedy.

She laughs quietly. “Ok.”

“I’m not kidding,” I tell her, looking her in the eyes again. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met in my life.”

When I say that, our eyes locked on one another, I can feel something click between us. A connection is made. I can see that she believes me and I’ve made her feel good about herself. But there’s something else there, too. Something I don’t know how to describe. But I like it.

“Thank you,” she whispers with a smile.

She reaches up to push my hair back off my face, and then she is pulling me down again with a hand on the back of my neck. I let her take the lead for just a second because it feels so good. My body is covering hers as we trade more deep kisses back and forth, and I position myself so that my hard cock is pressing between her legs. She moans into my mouth and opens her legs wider for me. 

I keep at it, rubbing up against her; the cotton fabric of my boxers creating a shield of friction between us, but she is still getting off on it. It obviously feels amazing to me, too, and I am honestly thinking of foregoing this whole orgasm denial thing I’ve got going on and just fucking her as hard as possible right now. But I don’t. I continue to rut into her as she presses harder and harder against me, jerking her hips up and digging her nails into my bare shoulders.

“Oh my god,” she whines next to my ear. “Please…”

I smile to myself, my face hidden in the crook of her neck. I give her a sharp bite that makes her squeak. 

“I love that you’re so needy,” I tell her, moving to the other side of her neck and sucking a bruise onto it. “I bet you never begged for someone’s cock before, have you?”

She doesn’t answer, probably because she’s either too focused on humping me or she’s embarrassed that I called her out. Either way, it’s a win for me. She keeps grinding against me, her actions becoming faster and more desperate. I can feel her hot, wet pussy with each pass over my dick, and oh fuck, it makes me want to lose my mind. I can’t even really believe I’m holding out this long, but I’ve made it this far I guess. Let’s keep this going.

As soon as she is completely lost in her own little world, eyes closed and hands clutching at my arms and back, I can see she’s so close to coming again. She’s making small grunting noises and whimpers as she rams her swollen clit against me. 

“Oh shit…oh shit…” she starts chanting and her grip on my skin tightens.

The grin on my face is extremely cruel as I suddenly move off her, sitting on my knees in between her legs. Her hips move up, only to meet nothing but air and her eyes fly open.

“What the fuck!”

Her eyes are wide and she’s breathing like a freight train. Her hips keep twitching just slightly, like they haven’t quite caught up to the rest of her body yet. She looks pretty pissed off and it’s adorable.

“Did you think I was going to let you get off just from grinding on my dick like that?” I shake my head, pitying her. “Honey…I thought you figured this out.”

“You are a bastard,” she fumes, her jaw clenched tight.

“It’s really hard to take you seriously when you’re wearing nothing but the marks I just gave you. You’re still so soaking wet for me I can see the evidence in a pool on the sheets.”

She’s quiet again and a soft blush blooms across her chest. I know it is killing her to be this vulnerable right now, so I decide to throw her a bone. Still resting on my knees, I pull my boxers down over my cock, letting her have a good look before maneuvering them the rest of the way off. I stay where I am and make her watch.

Taking my rock hard dick in my hand, I give it a few slow strokes while maintaining eye contact with her. She has propped herself up on her elbows and she’s practically drooling over what she’s seeing. I might not be porn star-level big, but in the scheme of things, it’s mildly impressive. At least, she seems to think so.

“Damn,” she rasps out before looking me in the eyes again. She is dead serious when she tells me, “I want you to fuck me with that.”

I laugh because I just can’t help it and even she smiles at that. I reach down and take one of her hands, pulling her up towards me so that she is sitting up.

“Come here,” I say gently, although my face is back to being serious. She shuffles forward a little and I grab her around the waist, positioning her so that she is straddling my lap while I stay kneeling.

The position makes my cock rub against her slit again, and she’s already trying to roll her hips into me. I let her do that a few times, mostly because it feels so goddamn good, but then I hold her still with my hands on either side of her waist.

“I know how badly you want this. And I’m going to give it to you, don’t worry. But you’re going to have to be a little more patient, ok sweet girl?”

My tone is patronizing and she doesn’t like it. But after a few seconds she gives me a small nod. I go back to kissing her, because I seem to not be able to get enough of her lips against mine, and I tangle my fingers in her hair. She groans when I give it a sharp tug.

Without pulling away, I move my hands back down to her hips and start to guide her. Very slowly, I move her body over mine, so that her dripping wet slit is sliding back and forth over my dick. I let out a long, low moan and tighten my grip on her. 

“Please,” she’s whimpering against my mouth again.

“Please what, sweetheart?” I tease, moving my lips to her neck and her shoulder while still keeping control of her pace on top of me.

“Please fuck me.”

It’s so pathetic the way she’s whining that I want to laugh. But I’m also pretty damn close to begging too, and I have to keep trying to focus on not letting myself slip inside of her just yet.

I shake my head, denying her request, but I do pick up the pace a little. I start moving her faster, until she’s grinding hard onto my shaft and I can see she’s just about ready to come again. 

“How do you feel, sweetheart? Is that good?” I ask softly near her ear.

She nods, her eyes still closed. “God, yes…so fucking good. I’m almost there…please.”

“I know you are,” I tell her.

She starts whining and moaning louder and grinding into me harder and she thinks I’m going to let her finally give in to her orgasm, but just as I see her start to tip over that edge, I use my strength to throw her off of me so that she is on her back again.

“Fiive…”

She draws my name out in a long, demoralized cry that is so sad and so pitiful, with her eyes that are pleading for me and her mouth open while she gasps for breath. Oh fuck…I need her.

This time I don’t tease or prolong anything. I’m hard as a rock and dripping with pre-cum and I need to be inside of her now. But there’s one last thing I’m going to make her do for me.

I grab onto her again, and instead of throwing her around, I use my handy spatial manipulation powers and blink us both into the position I want. This is always a risky move that could end with someone accidentally sailing onto the floor or my genitals being smashed into a pancake, but luckily I get it right. I land on my back and she is on top of me. She lets out a short shriek of surprise, but when she realizes what happened she smiles down at me.

“Ride me,” I tell her, not even bothering with an explanation of how or why I flung her through the vacuum of space. “Now,” I emphasize through gritted teeth, in case she was not getting the point.

She gets it, though, because it only takes her a couple of seconds before she is sinking down onto my cock until I’m fully buried in her tight sleeve, and holy shit, it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life.

We both let out a loud moan from how amazing it feels after all of the anticipation. She leans back, grabbing my legs behind her for leverage, and she starts to rock her hips forcefully on top of me. I reach up to squeeze and mold each breast in my hands, watching as her beautiful mouth drops open and her head falls back.

Her movements are driving me crazy, but I still want more. I lower my hands so I can clutch at her hips again, but not before I slap her on the ass with a loud smack. That got her attention and her head snaps up again, eyes wide.

“Look at me,” I demand.

She does and I hold her gaze while I pump her body faster and harder on top of me. I’m pushing my own hips up against her, trying to feel as much of her as humanly possible, but I swear it’s still not enough.

“Fuck me harder. Come on, harder,” I tell her, and I vaguely wonder if I sound as pathetic as she did earlier. I don’t care. I’ll beg on my knees if I can get more of what I’m feeling right now.

She bites at her lower lip in concentration and nods at my request, speeding up her forceful thrusts until she’s almost all the way off of my dick before slamming back down again. Her tits are bouncing so perfectly and her face is flushed. I really don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to last when I look at her like that.

I’m starting to sweat now with how hard I’m working at trying to drill into her, and all the while I’m feeling that warm, amazing feeling in my lower abdomen that means I’m about to lose it. I see by her face and hear from her high-pitched mewls that she is close, too. I’ve got to dial it up a notch, so I move one hand off her hip and start vigorously rubbing her clit with my thumb.

That does it, and she starts thrashing erratically, head tilted back, while she wails like she’s in pain. I know she’s not though, because after another second her pussy is fluttering tightly around my cock and she’s screaming so loud I would be shocked if it weren’t for the fact that I’m also coming fast and hard.

“Fuuuckk,” I yell out, joining her shaking and shuddering body with my own spasms as I push her down as hard as I can manage while unleashing my cum inside of her.

It takes several minutes of loud panting and aftershocks, while she lays on top of my chest and I stroke her back. I’ve never experienced anything that intense before, but I really hope I get to again sometime soon. I finally start to slip out of her and she rolls off of me to lie next to me. 

I don’t know what it is, but there’s some weird connection between us, and I know she can feel it too. It doesn’t matter that I teased her mercilessly and stripped her of all of her control. I smile over at her and lean in for a kiss while trying to smooth her tangled hair down. 

“I wasn’t expecting this,” she says with a small laugh, and I know she’s talking about picking up a supposedly naive kid and having them rock her world, but it has another meaning too. She wasn’t expecting to feel like this. And neither was I.

I shake my head with a smile and trace her lips with my fingers. “Me either. But I think I could get used to it.”

“Me, too.” She pauses and looks a little nervous. “Normally I wouldn’t ask this, but…do you want to stay for a while?”

I don’t even pretend to think about it or try to play cool. “Yes, I’d love that.” When she smiles, she looks so relieved and happy, and I go in for another kiss. “Go get cleaned up and I’ll go grab our drinks. But I want you right back here in bed for me, ok?”

I was sort of teasing, but she smiles her gorgeous smile and nods her head. “Ok.”

Once we’re back in bed, with me propped against the headboard and her leaning against my chest, we gradually sip our scotch and I run my fingers through her hair.

“So, I have to ask. You don’t seem in any way like any other man your age. Why is that? How are you so different?”

I pause for a second while I decide if I want to get into all of that. But then I think, why the hell not? I like this woman and if she wants to know about me, I might as well start with the big truth.

“Well, get comfortable, because this may take a while.”

☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️☂️

It’s a month later and I’m back at the same grocery store. I only needed a few things and I wait in line until it’s my turn to check out. As I watch my items get scanned over the red laser, Brad the bagger steps up to help out. He recognizes me and gives me a big grin.

“Good to see you, it’s been a while.” He takes a look around. “I haven’t seen her here in a while, not sure why. But, hey, did you ever seal the deal before? Me and some of the guys in back have a bet going.”

“Is that right?” I say with a sly grin. “Which way did you bet?”

Brad looks shocked like it could be any other answer. “That you did, of course! I saw the way she was looking at you; like the cougar caught her meal for the night.”

He laughs at his joke and I smile a little, just as my girl comes jogging up behind me to put a jar of olives on the belt before my order is finished.

“Here you go, honey, sorry it took me forever to find it,” she pants, slightly out of breath. “Are those the right ones?”

I smile down at her and nod. “Yes, darling, thank you.”

As she squeezes past me, pleased with my praise, I give her a small smack on the ass. She turns around and rolls her eyes at me before flashing me one of her pretty smiles that makes me want to melt onto the linoleum floor beneath my feet.

“I’m going to wait in the car,” she tells me, before giving Brad a little wave on her way past.

I swear, it looks like every bagger and stock boy in the whole damn store has now gathered nearby and are staring in awe at the scene they just witnessed. I pretend I don’t notice, but I can’t help feeling proud of myself and it’s hard to keep the smile off my face. As I am paying and taking my bag from Brad, I hear someone in the crowd whisper a little too loudly.

“Did you see that? How the fuck did that dude tame the cougar?”

I definitely can’t keep the smug look off my face now and I nod at the group of jackass kids on my way out the door. “Gentleman.”

Then I head on out to my Stingray, where my dream girl is waiting patiently for me.

[saintsenara]

How are you able to enjoy toxic/unhealthy/“problematic” ships/characters without feeling weird (for lack of a better word) about it?

I ask this because I want to be able to do this myself as it seems like a much more enjoyable way of engaging with fiction to me. I can get over some ships just being toxic and the characters not being good together and still enjoy their dynamic but I have trouble with the other ships that feel morally wrong. I know it’s just fiction but I can’t seem to get over the ick feeling I have when I think about those ships/characters. I feel like I’m being too puritanical about these things but I don’t know how to stop feeling like something is gross when I feel it’s gross…

Do you have any tips to stop jumping to moralizing ships/characters?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i'm going to be upfront that this reflexive gross feeling isn't something i've ever really struggled with - both in fic and more broadly. this is due to various personal idiosyncrasies, above all the fact that i've got disengaged boomer parents who didn't police our media consumption [my favourite book when i was eleven? lolita...] and that i'm a doctor, which is a profession which requires you to develop a very high threshold for what you find disgusting. the human body - at all stages of its life-cycle and its cycle of decomposition - produces a lot of different fluids... and it's also the case that [just as if you can think of it, there's porn for it] if an inanimate object exists, somebody somewhere has got it stuck inside them...

and so the situation that i find myself in is that i consider it infinitely less weird that i enjoy the odd bit of hot tomarrymort action than that i actively enjoy cutting through bone with a saw...

but, obviously, "get a medical degree" isn't particularly helpful advice...

i am a ride-or-die fan of the concept of stepping outside of your comfort zone. this is why i'm such an avowed multishipper - i think it's good for us as fandom citizens to examine the potential of our faves in relationships [romantic or otherwise] which are either not their canon endgames or which aren't our preferred pairings, and in situations which don't align with their canon experiences [whether that means making them suffer or giving them full-on fluff]. it draws out the multiple aspects of a character to consider them from these different angles - and it prevents us from getting so stuck in one interpretation of a character or configuration of a ship which means that it puts our backs up to stumble across stories which approach things differently.

but stepping outside of your comfort zone doesn't mean that you have to go enormously far. it may be that a reader decides - having only ever read teen-rated fics where characters' sex lives don't extend beyond hand-holding and forehead kisses - to take the plunge into an explicit piece filled to the brim with watersports and age play. it may be that a reader decides - having only ever read teen-rated fics for one canon pairing - to read a teen-rated fic for a non-canon alternative. both of these are entirely valid approaches.

by which i mean, our comfort levels and our thresholds for discomfort are subjective, they're personal. if there are ships or themes or characters you don't want to read about because they don't feel good... you're not doing something wrong if you avoid them. exposing yourself to fics you expect to make you uncomfortable can be useful - and fiction is certainly a way to explore discomfort which gives you much more control over the experience than encountering it in real life - but it's not something you're obliged to do to be active in fandom.

the thing you are obliged to do to be active in fandom is to be nice to other people, no matter what their tastes in fiction. this means, at its fundamental level, that when you see people who ship pairings or like themes which make you think "ew"... you keep it to yourself/the group chat rather than putting it on the timeline.

but, once this is something you've got the hang of [which takes a bit of time! but practice makes perfect!], something i feel can be a really useful way of overcoming a tendency towards knee-jerk moralising reactions is to just vibe in the vicinity of people you know like the content you instinctively feel is gross.

this doesn't mean you have to read any of this content - but you'll learn just by hanging out near them that the people who do are just... normal. one minute they might reblog a rec for a pairing you think "absolutely not" about, the next they might reblog a cat picture which makes you squeal with delight. you'll like some of their content, but not all. you'll agree with some of it, but not all. you might like progressively more of it as you spend time in their orbit - maybe they'll explain why they like the pairing or character in question and you'll think "huh, i've never looked at it like that" - or you might not. this is absolutely fine.

all of us - at one time or other - have made a black-and-white moralising pronouncement: people who think x are gross; people who like y are fucked-up, you'd never catch me doing z. and these pronouncements are different from our wider, societally-influenced moral codes - which are good things, otherwise we'd live in the purge - in that they're fundamentally ways for us to feel good about ourselves and our families and our friends by defining ourselves as better than a faceless other. we say "you'd never catch me reading that, it's foul" when we know [or think we know] that the friend we're talking to would agree with the statement. we are far less likely to say it if we know that the friend - whom we see as a human being who is beautiful in their imperfection and inherently worthy of love simply by virtue of being alive - was reading and enjoying that just the other day.

and so the best way to train yourself out of reflexively moralising ships or characters or tropes is to put a face to the faceless other who likes them. be intentional in sharing a space with fans of the stuff you feel uncomfortable with and, eventually, it just becomes background noise. you'll scroll on tumblr, say "well there we are, jane's written some more of her sirius/harry piss kink fic - although i'm not interested in clicking on it" and go on with your day.

because the other thing i think it's really useful to do is to train yourself into reframing your disgust as disinterest. there are plenty of things which i don't seek out to read - and some of these topics are completely benign and some are darker [i don't enjoy reading explicit non-con, for example] - but this is because i try to frame it as that i don't think these things would interest me.

this is still the maintenance of a personal comfort zone, but thinking of the content outside this zone as something you are disinterested in turns it into something neutral. when you think of it as something to be disgusted or grossed out by, it naturally provokes a visceral response which makes you look through a moral lens. thinking in terms of disinterest, instead, gives you sufficient detachment from this visceral response to recognise, interrogate, contextualise, and control it.

and - in time - this neutral reframing may result in you feeling more interested in taking the plunge into the ships and characters and stories you currently don't vibe with, once you don't have an instinctive disgust response as a barrier.

or it may not. and this is absolutely fine.

[askinkiskarma]

Illicit Affairs | Chapter VIII: My Tears Ricochet

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: All secrets are revealed and both you and Neteyam have to live with the consequences of your actions.

Warnings: pure angst, mentions of death, mental illness, addiction, self-injury, limited mentions of Y/N, did i mention angst, angst and more angst?

Word Count: 10,3k words (the first couple chapters were 3k, how did we get here??!)

A/N: This chapter killed me a little inside. I cried multiple times writing it, so I guess fair warning. I wanted really badly to build strong, round characters who had flaws and strengths and strong reasoning for acting a certain way/doing certain things. I wanted to write this story from both character's perspective, so it is clear that in life, each person will think they are right, that their reasoning was the correct one, when in reality, we are all a little right and a little wrong in everything we do, and it is always worth trying to see things from the other's perspective. We are coming towards the end of this first series, so I hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of this journey. As always, thank you so much for everyone who engaged with it, I loved reading ALL of your comments and replies, they really make my day.

(Also, I feel like I am playing my own little game of "how many Taylor Swift and OG Avatar lyrics/quotes/references I can reasonably fit in a story without it being obnoxious" and I can't tell if I'm winning or not.)

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

You registered the girl asking you if you were alright, but you couldn’t see in front of you, the entire room spinning like the inside of a mirrorball. You felt your body rise from where it was sat next to Neteyam’s, and shakily made your way out. Neteyam’s mate. Neteyam’s mate was next to you, asking you if you need help. It all got too much, and you lunged your body forwards and threw up on the ground next to your tent. You were panting, trying to somehow get a grasp on your mind and push the hurt aside, enough so you can see and hear the world around you.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” you manage to blurt out weakly.

You heard more commotion, and faintly made out Jake’s voice and his arm on your shoulder, trying to bring you back to them.

“Neteyam, what the hell happened?”

You didn’t hear Neteyam speak. He was quiet and you were glad. You didn’t want to hear his voice, not now, and not for the rest of your life.

The world came back to focus eventually, and you spit aggressively trying to get rid of the taste of acid in your mouth. You removed Jake’s hand from your back, and left. The thought of speaking or even looking at any of them was too much to bear. You ran, harder than you ever had before, back to where you just came from, the Ikran nest in the village. You immediately recognised your own, beautiful, gold and white, pure, unlike the rest of this world. Neyn (light colours, shades of white)… fitting name, you thought. You made the tsaheylu quickly, and without a second thought, took off.

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE III: DEPRESSION

You had no thoughts as you flew above the forest and made your way towards the general direction of the Hallelujah mountains. You realised you didn’t know where you were going, you didn’t know how you were going to find your way back, but it didn’t matter. Were you even going to ever return? There were no tears, no sadness, just emptiness. The pieces of your heart broke so finely they turned into dust, blown away in the wind of the night. Eventually you found the mountains, easy enough to spot, even in the darkness, the fluorescent flora marking the territory with an easy-to-see glow. You flew like this, for enough time that your lungs were running out of breath and your skin felt battered by the wind, but you kept going. You felt so free, so weightless. There was a calmness to your thoughts that you haven’t felt in years, probably since your mother died.

You saw a distant mountain that looked brighter than the others, and you made your way to it and were amazed to find a little cave in it, bright and colourful, a little piece of heaven on a planet that was heaven in and of itself. Neyn landed softly on the edge of the mountain and you dismounted effortlessly and approached her head, giving her pets on her neck, to which she cooed gently. She was the only friend you had, you realise. You were all alone.

“Neteyam, what happened?”

Neteyam was dragged in the tent by his dad, who was fuming. No matter what feelings his dad was feeling, they couldn’t compare to Neteyam’s anguish and terror. Why the hell was she there? She just had to wait another couple of hours and this would have never happened.

“She was patching my wound up when Tiongli came in the tent, announcing to the world she is my mate. Said mother told her about my injury.”

“Don’t you dare blame this on your mother, boy.” the Sully patriarch’s nose was flared, eyes looking at him intensely with anger and disappointment. Neteyam’s eyes filled with tears, and he felt his heart hurting so much like the gash was there instead of his arm.

“I was going to tell her tonight, dad. After dinner. I was going to tell her everything, and I was going to ask her to be my mate. I was going to come to you both and ask you to undo the engagement. I understand that a year and a half ago I gave up on her, I did it for a reason, I thought there was no future for us, and that we were hurting each other. But things have changed. She has changed. She’s going to be one of the people soon and I want her to be mine.”

“Neteyam, you can’t undo the engagement. You have known Tiongli your whole life, her family’s been expecting this since you were both young. You gave your word before Eywa, son.”

“I love her, dad. Do you understand that? I have loved her all of my life. It killed me having to leave, it killed me knowing there was no future, because she was human. But she’s not just human anymore. I was willing to go through with this for the sake of the village, for the sake of the family and the future, but if there is any chance I can have the love of my life by my side, instead, I will cling on to it for dear life. Mother was betrothed to uncle Tsu’tey, and she gave that up for you. It was done before Eywa, and she didn’t care. Because she loved you and she knew that was enough. She gave up being Tsahik, her birth right, so she can have you. I will not give up on her, dad. Mother wouldn’t have given up on you.”

“I have to find her. I have to make this right.”

You were sprawled on your back, feeling goosebumps form along your limbs from the cold grass. You were staring at the sky, noticing the bright stars you now knew were actually bright death sentences, each of them beautiful and devastating. Will you even still be alive when they come? Will everything you have gone through these few months matter? Will everything you have gone through in this life matter? All the pain, and the hurt, and the grief, just so you can die at 18 from a virus. The universe was cruel, you thought. It was a fitting end, though. Meaningless and daft, like your entire life was. Born on a planet you were not made to be able to survive on, your real planet a long-forsaken dream you will never experience for yourself, surrounded by nature that could kill you in an instant. Alone, never fitting anywhere, orphaned by human diseases: cancer and greed. Left to fend for yourself when you were just ten, learning to navigate a life that only seemed to want to clobber you to the ground whenever you thought you finally could stand up again.

There was no light at the end of the tunnel, not anymore. You wanted to fight for something, for the chance at life, or at retribution, or at love. You were dying and Neteyam killed whatever hope remained in you. They all did. Norm, Max, Jake, Neytiri, Lo’ak, Kiri, Spider, all accomplices, all aware, all willing to lie to your face for weeks with no remorse. You thought you were good at spotting liars, now you just knew how little you knew about everything.

The pain in your soul mirrored the one in your body, as you felt the morphine wearing off and your human body struggling to keep the mind steady for the link. You had to bear it, because this pain was more manageable than the one you knew waited for you in your human form, when you would be alone in a dark room with only your nightmares to keep you company.

With a sigh and a peer up at the sky, you hoped whatever comes after death was better than the hell you’ve lived in the majority of this life.

Neteyam waited the whole night in your tent, waited for you to come back, becoming increasingly worried as the hours passed and you didn’t show. He wanted to go and look for you, but knew that as soon as you got on your ikran, the chances of finding you were thin. He would go to the lab as soon as dawn broke, but for now, he was praying that you would just burst through the tent opening so he can talk you down.

He fucked up, badly. He cringed at the thought of how much he seemed to not be able to get anything right when it comes to you. Everything he did or didn’t do ended up hurting you more, the only thing he didn’t want, the only thing in the world he continuously tried to avoid.

He was consoled by the fact that he would have a lifetime to make it up to you. He will not give up trying, no matter how long, no matter how hard, he was determined to win you back and keep you, forever.

As you made it back to your human body in the early hours of the morning, you regretted waiting so long, as your body was in indescribable agony, the likes with which you didn’t know was possible for the human body to ever experience. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, you were sweating bullets and every bone and muscle in your body throbbed with enough intensity to make it almost impossible for you to get up from the pod. Everyone must be asleep at this hour, you thought. You had to make it to your bed, you had to get at least a couple of hours of rest if you were going to live to see another day. As if you were taking the Iknimaya again, you made your way form the lab to the medical ward and injected another dose of the morphine in your system. There was no going back now, you were too far down the rabbit hole to stop and why put yourself through more unnecessary pain when this will all be over in a few days anyway?

You crashed in your room for a few hours and quickly made your way back to the pod before anyone else was there to talk to. You started the linkpod by yourself and got in without hesitation.

Waking up in your Avatar body was a strange experience, as you were still in the Hallelujah mountains where you fell asleep last night. Neyn did not leave you, you noted, and she was peacefully resting next to you, cooing softly in her sleep.

“Hey, beautiful girl. Time to go back. It would be useful if you knew the way.” you pet her gently, trying not to disturb her. She woke up and pushed her snoot in your chest, and you felt it swell for this animal that you had an unbreakable bond with; you were grateful you had done the Iknimaya and at least gained a life companion from that horrible day.

As suspected, Neyn knew where to take you, and in about an hour you made it back to the village. You dreaded it, dreaded the inevitable interaction, but you knew you had to go back at some point and inform them of your whereabouts.

It was still early, so the village wasn’t quite bustling with energy yet. You quietly made it back to your tent, which you found empty. You grabbed your bow and arrows, knife and gun and a couple extra magazines. You didn’t know if you were going to be back. As you were making your way out, your head bumped into a large, muscular chest.

Fuck.

“Where the hell were you all night, kid? None of us slept a wink last night worrying.”

“Out.”

“What the hell do you mean out? Out where? You leave without telling, you don’t come back the whole night, do you have a fucking death wish?”

You laughed at the irony of his words. He caught your arm as you were walking away and pulled you back forcefully so you can face him.

“You are not going anywhere.”

“Let go.” Jake raised a brow at your words. He was not used to being spoken this way, you realise.

“How long?”

His grasp on you loosened, and his gaze softened when you peered up at him through eyelashes to which tears clung.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Kid…”

“How fucking long, Jake?”

He let go of your arm at your curse, which had never been directed at him before.

“Watch your tone, kid.”

“You made me feel like shit for learning to shoot guns without you. It made you feel bad, right? Knowing I purposefully left you out of something you could have been useful at, something we could have bonded over? I hurt you, by pushing you and Neytiri away for so many years, and I am sorry for that, but you have never, in your life, tried to understand me. So you gave me shit about something you didn’t understand, and I hurt so much inside at the thought of all I gave away by my reluctance to trust, to love, to let people in. So I changed. I let you in. I was here, everyday, acting like a perfect little daughter for you, the daughter I knew you wanted. Strong, capable, skilled. I let Neytiri in. I started calling her mum in my dreams, and although the guilt for my own mother gnawed at my insides silently, I was also relived, to finally have a family again, or for the first time.

You made me love you and break down these carefully constructed walls so you can be comfortable and sleep well at night for not breaking your promise my mum, and then you fucking stabbed me in the back.

I trusted you, Jake. You fucking lied to my face for months. Every time I asked where Neteyam was at dinners and you told me he was practicing, every day you plotted to get me out of the village as early morning as humanly possible and get me back after everyone else was fast asleep, I knew it in my heart you were lying, but you were all so good at it, I thought I was going crazy. But no, it was all a carefully planned ruse to not find out you made me come here and be part of the people just to watch the man I love belong to someone else without even a chance to decide for myself how to feel about it.”

The fight brought out the rest of the Sully family out of their tent, and they were all watching you now, concern and sadness displayed across their beautiful faces.

“You all lied to me. Looked me in the fucking eyes and lied to me, every day, multiple times a day. You were supposed to be my family.

The humans are coming. I will be here. I will stand and fight, you know I will. I will be your little soldier, and be who you made me into.

But I want to make this perfectly clear. As far as I am concerned, you and I, we are done. I am done.” You looked at every Sully one last time, and left.

You were no longer delightfully numb, but burning with anger and earth-shattering sorrow as you stalked away from the village, leaving everything behind. Your eyes were blurry with endless tears, mourning this life and this family that you managed to gain and lose within the span of a few weeks, reeling from the wounds within your heart that never had a chance to mend before being opened again, over and over. You didn’t want to go back to the lab, knowing Neteyam was most likely looking for you there. You couldn’t go to the clearing for the same reason. You had no home anymore, no place in this world, once again. You could only think of one place to go, one place where no one would ever look for you.

Your knees were shaking furiously as you walked, and you were scared of another flashback that you would have to ride out by yourself, but it never came. You just walked, crying and panting from all the pain the last 24 hours brought, and eventually you made it to a place you never thought you would ever see again. The clearing looked peaceful, with rays of light penetrating through tree branches, creating Mandalas on the ground that you found yourself tracing with your eyes.

In the corner, lay a decrepit exo suit, and you made your way to it, settling on the ground next to it. You knew now this exo suit belonged to your dad, and you removed some vines that grew on top of his name, Gideon Barlowe. A beautiful name, you thought, and your mind wandered to the past, a past way before you were even born, and wondered what your grandparents did back on Earth. Did they encourage their son to leave his own planet in pursuit of planetary colonisation, monetary gain and murderous acts? Did they know? Did he know? Was he like that his whole life, or did he start off fighting the good fight, and was corrupted by the jagged and monstrous lifestyle? You wondered if this was what he has always dreamt of doing, or he had secret dreams of being a painter, or a gardener. Did he play guitar, too? You snored sometimes, did you get that from him? You had so many questions for this man you shared half your DNA with, but have never met. For the man that died on a planet far away from home, alone, with no one to mourn him.

Was that going to be you? Would Neteyam remember you in 20 years, when he would tell stories about his childhood to his kids, when he remembered the good old times? Would you get a Na’vi send off? Or were you going to be buried somewhere in the forest, for someone to stumble upon in a distant future you would no longer be a part of?

Sobbing uncontrollably, you heard yourself speak in between wails. “Why am I here? Great Mother, please tell me there is more to this life, there is more to life than this, because I cannot do this anymore. I am so tired. I have tried to keep going my whole life, even when I wanted nothing more than to cease to exist, blissfully collapse in an ether where I didn’t have to feel anything anymore. I kept going because I wanted to make my mum proud, I wanted to honour the body and life she has given me. I am trying so hard, but I am really fucking tired.”

A little past eclipse, you arrived at the lab, and used the keycard you remembered to bring with you. You hoped Neteyam would be gone by now, in case he was trying to find you here. You made your way through the hub and into your bedroom, which looked tiny in your Avatar body. You realise how uncomfortable it must have been for him to be here so often, then cursed your brain for making you think about such things. Your Avatar body needed a bed, so you walked slowly to where the other Avatar bodies usually were laid to rest for the night. There should be an empty space where your mum or Grace used to sleep. It didn’t take long for you to wake up back in the linkpod, as with most nights recently, you were barely able to maintain the neurolink by the time evening came.

Max was waiting for you. “Neteyam came by. He’s been looking for you, said you left the village yesterday and didn’t come back. He was worried sick.”

You didn’t answer him, as you slowly got out of the pod and tried to steady your feet on the ground, harder than it seemed when the entire room was spinning around you.

“What happened?”

“The mate you all hid from me for weeks came announcing herself in my tent as we were just about to kiss.”

“Any other questions?”

You didn’t wait for a response before you made your way out of the room, stalking towards the medical ward.

As you retired to your room for the night, you noted the morphine was not working as well as used to anymore. You sat on the bed, looking at the arm that was getting blue at the amount of needle holes it had, and you knew then you didn’t have much time left. Maybe a couple of days. A couple more days of this. And then it would finally be over. You gave it a fair shot, this life thing. You couldn’t say you felt particularly sad at the thought of it ending. You pressed play on your vintage record player and let yourself sleep.

“Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you, til my dying day”

You spent the next 2 days in a haze, drugged out of your mind, waking up before eclipse and leaving to your dad’s grave and sleeping in the woods until the night, barely able to make it on your own two feet. Even in your human body, Neyn recognised you, and stood by you, which gave you some peace of mind. You made sure to bring her fruits from the lab, and she cooed warmly as she settled next to you.

When you made your way back that night, Norm was waiting.

“Where the hell have you been? Everyone’s been looking for you for 3 fucking days.”

You removed your oxygen mask and made your way to the room, where he followed you. You were in so much pain you couldn’t see straight.

“I am talking to you!” he took you by your arm and spun you around. The motion made you instantly sick, and you struggled to keep down the fruits you shared with your ikran.

“Let go of me, Norm.” you had no strength in your body anymore, so it took you awhile to shake him off.

“You look like shit. What did you do?”

You managed to make it to the bathroom, where you shut the door behind you and got in the shower. Fortunately, for you or him, you couldn’t tell, Norm was gone when you came out.

The next morning, you woke up desperately searching for pain relief and didn’t know if you were going to be able to make it to the ward before your knees would collapse on themselves. You were shaking and dizzy, out of your mind with agony and walking to the bathroom felt like the most intensive workout you have ever done. You peered up at yourself in the mirror and were scared at the eyes watching you, rabid and wild, like an injured animal waiting to lash out. It was too much for you to bear, and before you could even think or rationalise, you felt your fingers curl into a fist and make contact with the cold glass of the mirror, shattering in dozens of pieces, and it made you weirdly happy to have a visual representation of how your soul felt. The instant pain of the all the wounds the smash caused also gave you a weird sense of euphoria, and you realised it was taking away from the pain in the rest of the body, which was only able to focus on one agonising sensation at a time. This felt like a kiss by comparison, and you knew then you could go on a little longer, you could continue with the rest of the day.

Norm came bursting through the door at the loud crash.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

You came out of your bathroom, blood dripping all over the floor as you made your way to the bed, sitting down on it.

“Leave, Norm.”

“What?”

“Leave.”

“What the hell has gotten into you recently. you are rude and brash, and you hurt people’s feelings with no remorse. This isn’t you.”

“What the hell do you know about me, Norm?” you say, laughing bitterly.

“Ace, stop.”

“You don’t know anything, Norm.” you kept going, the fury and hurt getting the best of you, once again, your need to destroy everything in your path as a way to cope with your own heartbreak winning by a landslide.     

“Did you know I have needed pills to sleep and to live a normal day-to-day life since I was 13? I have been slowly depleting our sleeping pill and benzodiazepines inventory and replacing it with multivitamin pills I found in one of the drawers. I mean thank God none of you suffer from anxiety or panic disorder or need help sleeping cause I would have been busted so long ago.”

You laughed mockingly at his shocked face, jaw so close the floor now you could trip on it on your way out.

“Did you know I am about a week and a half away from dying after I accidentally smashed a vial of infected blood and got it in my mouth?”

You stand corrected, you think now his jaw was close enough to the floor to trip on it.

“Did you know I have upgraded from a pill addiction to a full blown opioid addiction in order to not collapse on the floor in excruciating pain because of the way this virus is eating at my insides? Yeah, yeah, that���s right. We’re almost out of a whole vial of morphine after I injected it in my veins every day for a while now.”

He had no words. “That’s about right.”

“I do know one thing you do know, though. You know that Neteyam had his mate announcement ceremony that day I took off. You were there to see the two love birds announce their love and pledge their commitment to each other the one day I was not there. And that’s why you were acting shifty. You know about that. And somehow you forgot to tell me, every day, for weeks. How does that work out, Norm, hmm?”

“I felt so bad for snapping at you a couple of days ago. I felt like a horrible fucking person for hurting your feelings. I should have been watching my back, instead.”

You got up from your bed and started walking towards the door.

“If I were you I would not linger in a room with poisoned blood dripping on the floor for too long.”

You found some paper towels at the side of your bed and wrapped them around your bleeding, pained hand, and with that, you left.

After you upped the morphine you usually took, you went to the lab and prepped a hood for some more experiments. Work was a good way to get your mind off things, to mindlessly do something that had a purpose other than driving you to the brink of insanity.

You heard a loud banging noise coming from the entrance, and you had a sneaking suspicion you knew who it was. You heard Norm open the door.

“Is she here?”

“Yeah, but Neteyam, I think you should go. She’s not in a good place, and I really don’t think doing this will end well for either of you.”

“I don’t care, I have to talk to her, I have been looking for her for 3 fucking days.”

You heard the door to the lab slide open and hissed at the man you knew would be trying to come in, realising hissing in a human body doesn’t have nearly the same effect.

“Get the fuck out, Neteyam. This is a sterile room.”

“I don’t fucking care about the room, Atan. Where the fuck have you been? Please come out so we can talk.”

You threw your head back and laughed, really laughed.

“You really are delusional if you think there is any way in heaven and hell I would want to hear anything you have got to say. The time for talking was a couple months ago, Neteyam. The time for talking was the first day I got my Avatar body, where in addendum to telling me you own my ass now, you could have also sprinkled in the fact your are now mated with someone else.”

“I am not mated with anyone, for fuck’s sake. Just come out so we can talk, please. I will explain everything, please!”

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him, for the first time since that day. He looked exhausted, anguished. Deep purple bags under his eyes, that were burning red where the whites should be. He has been crying. Good, you thought. He looked panicked and miserable and desperate for you to give him the time of day, for you to allow him to explain the unexplainable.

You sighed and your heart constricted in pain. Neteyam will not be happy until there was nothing left of you, until he took everything from you. At the same time, you were curious, morbidly curious as to what has actually happened, what led to this moment. You knew he loved you. You knew that much, but it didn’t seem to matter in this moment, as he broke your heart for what felt like the thousandth time in your short life.

“Go to the clearing, I’ll come when I’m ready.”

You half considered just leaving him there to wait, abandoning him just he did to you. You finished splitting your cells and treating them, and in about an hour, you went into the linkpod and took your Avatar for a walk in the woods. You reached the clearing shortly, as it was close enough that even child you could do it without getting too far away from the building.

You saw him standing there, his back turned to you and his legs submerged in the river that was rushing violently downstream. It was a cold day, and rain was trickling down your body like shivers from a kiss. There was tension in the air, and you knew a storm was coming. You could practically feel the charge in the atmosphere, and were expecting thunder to start any minute now, ready to mirror the agony in your soul.

“I’m here.”

He didn’t speak for a while. Just stood looking at the river, deep in thought.

“So many of our moments throughout the years happened here. Remember when I taught you to swim in the river? Now, in retrospective, that was a bad idea since the water kept taking you away, to the point I had to wait at the end so I could catch you in my arms, like you were a baby.”

You winced at the memory.  You thought you could do this. You felt numb in that lab, numb on the way here, but as soon as your eyes focused on him, tears starting pooling in your eyes and pain overtook your body, that you tried to counteract by wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. He’s caused you so much hurt, so much grief in the years he’s known you. But he was also at the forefront of most of your happiest memories. You could fill endless manuscripts with the beauty of his love, that shone so brightly over you your whole life. He was the light in all the darkness and you honestly didn’t think you would have survived this journey without him.

That is why this hurt so much, why your body was convulsing on itself in insurmountable grief. And also why you owed him this much. Owed him this conversation, and the right to explain his point of view, that you were still unfamiliar with.

“I remember. I remember even at the time, thinking this was a good metaphor for our relationship. Life kept sweeping me off my feet, but you were always there to catch me, before it could take me away. I had so much faith in you back then, you were a fact of life, like the eclipse. You were the one person in this world I thought would never hurt me.”

“Fuck, Y/N, all I did before I left is hurt you.”

“What are you talking about?” You were confused at the turn this conversation took. What did he mean? You couldn’t recall a single time Neteyam hurt you before you left. Sure, you would fight and bicker sometimes, but it was a normal part of any relationship, you thought. And he always made it up to you, would always come to the lab and sit with you with flowers he collected or trinkets he found in the woods, always holding you and kissing your forehead to make sure you were over it before he had to leave. Fighting with him was ironically one of your favourite things, because you knew the aftermath was the closest you ever felt to being in heaven.

“I almost fucking killed you. Or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten how I manipulated you into getting on top of an ikran when you were just a 13 year old human and almost watched you die? Have you forgotten I took you to the woods and raced you to your dad’s remains? I was a walking magnet for disasters in your life and I was tired, so fucking tired of watching your life fall apart all around me. I had to watch you learn to walk again, limp because of my actions, for years. I had to pull you out of flashbacks and nightmares you developed because of ME. You were always fine in the woods with Lo’ak or Kiri, but everything bad that has happened to you happened around me.”

He was crying, panting and angry, at himself or you or the universe, you couldn’t tell.

“I thought that if I left, you would be ok. I just wanted to protect you. My whole life, all I have wanted was for you to be ok. But it seems no matter what I do, I keep fucking up.”

You had no words to speak as you lay there, listening to him letting you in to a secret you have spent so many months agonising over. The reason for his departure haunted you for a year and a half, even when you refused to think about him, about it, it was there, constantly emerging from the depths of your subconsciousness, taunting you in your dreams. Why? Why? Why?

Because he wanted to protect you?

You didn’t have time to process all of this new information, before he continued.

“The night you found your dad, I was shaken to my core, in a way I have never truly been before. I was so heartbroken, for you and for myself, for knowing this will haunt you for the rest of your life. I went home and mother found me, and told me that maybe I can’t help you in the way I’ve always wanted. That maybe it’s better for you that I remove myself for a while and leave you room to breathe and heal. So I did. It took me a long time to get the strength to do it. Every time I thought today is the day, I would see you and you would smile at me, and we would sit on your bed and you would read to me or play me songs or just be there, just you and me, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. You were everything to me, my light in all the darkness.

A year later, you sang me the song and you were smiling at me singing it, and I knew you were confessing feelings we have both felt for years and couldn’t say out loud. And I knew that if I stayed, whatever we had would escalate past the point of no return. If I stayed, that would be it. And that’s when I decided. I thought I was doing us both a favour. I knew it would hurt you, just as much as it hurt me, but I thought the pain would subside in time.”

You were crying now, you realised, tears falling silently and effortlessly down your face, with no intention to ever stop, instantly washed away by the pouring rain. There were no sounds, no sobs or wails, or panted breaths, just the sounds of rain and hopeless, soft cries and muffled sniffles, for the man in front of you, for all that you have lost, for the past you shared and the future that you would never have.

He got up from where he stood and turned around to face you. He walked towards you until he was so close to you could feel his breath on your face. His stare made goosebumps appear on your entire body, so earnest and desperate, so full of intensity for the words he was trying to convey to you.

“It didn’t.” He said, at the same time you thought the same words in your mind.

“A few years ago, mother and father told me I would one day have to find a mate. They knew and I knew it was expected of me, but I always put it off, so they eventually dropped it. I learnt later they both knew about us, so they didn’t push me into anything until they felt I was ready. A few months after they realised I decided to leave, they started bringing it up again. I didn’t want to hear it, but they said it was time, as I had refused for years longer than what was acceptable in the clan. I met with so many girls, all from good families, all healers in training, all wrong. Beautiful girls, smart girls, skilled healers and singers, and it was like looking at the grey walls of your lab. I felt nothing, I felt sick just thinking about it, like just the thought would be betraying the memory of our bond. Eventually, I told them they can decide. Grandma can decide whatever she thinks is best, and, as Tsahik, I would listen to her voice and wisdom, and do my duty to the clan. She chose Tiongli. I knew her growing up, and we were friendly, so I tried to make an effort. I would go to her tent, and she would show me her training sometimes, I would let her heal my wounds and imagined it was your hands touching me instead. I visited her family and paid my respects, and had dinner with them whenever they invited me. I hoped in time, I could learn to care for her, to lessen the distaste in my mouth whenever my family or the clan talked about the future, about the ceremony, about the life I was supposed to lead that I hated even the thought of.

And then, one day, my dad sent me to get Lo’ak from the lab. I was so scared of knowing I would have to see you again. It had been so long, and so many feelings gnawed at me on the walk there, terror and anxiety, guilt and longing. But then I saw you, and there was only one feeling: love. Like no time had passed at all. I knew then I was going to love you for the rest of my life, and that will never change. That was my fact of life, my eclipse.”

He slowly took your face in his hands, and his thumb was caressing your cheek trying to wipe the tears and raindrops that were falling mercilessly. You saw his face slowly getting closer to yours, and you knew you should pull away, you should remove yourself from his grasp before the kiss was going to remove the last ounce of happiness from you. You knew what you had to do, knew that no matter what information or answers or justifications he would give you today, they wouldn’t matter. You should pull away, because there is no future, no hope. But you couldn’t. You didn’t know what waited for you in the afterlife, but if there was any chance you would have your memories, you wanted this kiss to haunt you forever, to remind you of the life you left behind.

His lips touched yours so gently, it felt like a whisper. Like a hug, tender and warm, it was so different than your first kiss. Tears were still running down your face as your lips moved, entangled with his and begging for more. Your hands went to his chest, to his neck, to his back, just touching him, trying to memorise his body, this feeling. You wanted so much more, you wanted to be his, you wanted to feel him, you wanted him to own you, like he did your heart, which has been his your entire life and will still be his after your death.

You were a mess of wet tangled limbs and panted breaths by the end, and eventually, he broke the kiss to look at you through teary eyes.

“I love you, I will always love you. I am so sorry.”

“I love you, too.”

“But this doesn’t change anything, Neteyam.”

“Thank you, for finally telling me why you left. For giving me some closure for something that has plagued me for so long, it became a constant part of my nightmares. Thank you for having my best interest at heart; it couldn’t have been easy to leave, if you didn’t want to, it took a strong heart to do something that hurt you for what you thought was the lesser evil. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“You left me. You broke me. And you never gave me a chance to make my own decisions. To figure out for myself what was the path forward. I have NEVER blamed you for my misfortunes. The ikran ride is still a beautiful memory to me. You made it a beautiful memory. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, we probably would have both died at the hands of Toruk. You saved my life, Neteyam. You carried me home and stayed with me while I was having surgery, you stayed with me after, while I recovered. You pulled me out of the worst panic attack I have ever had when I found my dad, and you rode out so many of my flashbacks, I have lost count. You weren’t the cause or the common denominator of these events, I was. I am the one plagued by misfortune and hurt and death. Not you. And if you tell me you had to leave to save your own peace of mind, I would respect that. I don’t know anyone in this world who can take this, take me and all the shit that follows me everywhere I go. I don’t blame you.

But if you tell me that you did this for me, that I can’t accept. I didn’t ask for any of this. You gave me no choice, and no say in this relationship, in our shared life. You just left. I deserved better than that. And I deserved better than to find out about a mate after months of lies and manipulation and deceit. I don’t care. I don’t care if you are going to say that you didn’t want it, or you were going to undo it, or that you’ve always loved me and never her. I don’t care. You lied to me, you manipulated me. You accused me of fucking your brother as you were promised to another woman that you hid from me for months. I do blame you for that, and I will never be able to forgive you.”

“Please, Atan…I will tell her no. I will tell her -.” he was sobbing now, his hands still on your face, pleading.

“No.” you slowly took his hands in yours and removed them from your face.

“I think you should do it, Neteyam. She is a good girl, she will make a good Tsahik, and a good mate. Your mother was right, there is no future here - there never was. I love you, so much. But I think you have broken my heart one too many times. I am done.”

You turned your back and walked away from him and the life that was lost - forever.

You were completely soaked when you arrived in the lab, and you went straight to the Avatar laying room and cried. Cried until it felt like no more tears could possibly come out of you. You cried yourself to sleep and then cried in the pod, on the way to your bedroom, and in bed until your human body eventually collapsed from exhaustion. You cried in your dreams, in which Neteyam was kissing you and touching you, doing all the things you were silently begging him to in your mind just a few hours ago.

Eventually, nightfall came, and you had to get up to do the rest of your experiments and top up your analgesic. Ironically enough, you were making real progress on your work. You found a combination therapy that was showing incredible potential in slowing the virus down. It wasn’t enough to stop and eradicate it, but it was enough to give people more time and hopefully give the scientists more time to find a cure. It wouldn’t help you, but maybe you could still help others.

At some paint through the night, as you were making up some reagents, Norm bursts through the door holding a bunch of equipment and some pills, you realise. He puts them down on the bench behind you and speaks.

“Right, stop whatever you are doing, right now.”

“I am in the middle of something.”

“I don’t fucking care. Stop, now.”

You were taken aback at his words and attitude. Norm never got mad, or lost his composure. He was so most well balanced person you knew.

You put the pipette gun down and turned around to face him.

“I still need to adjust the pH on this.”

He ignored you while he prepared the myriad of little gadgets he brought with him. He motioned for you to take off your lab coat, and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but did as you were told regardless. You were too tired to argue anymore.

He raised the sleeves of your top until they couldn’t go any further up your arm and put a blood pressure monitor on you. You felt tension as its sleeve tightened around you painfully, but eventually it gave out with a puff, and you heard beeping as the machine finished its reading. You looked to your right where the monitor lay, and saw red lights flashing, letting Norm know your blood pressure and pulse were dangerously low. His eyes widened slightly at the sight, but he held his composure, removing the gadget from around your arm and putting it away. He then read your oxygen levels, which you saw were constantly dabbling between 89 and 90%. Not good, you thought. No wonder you could barely breathe anymore. Norm cursed silently under his breath, trying to not let you see him, but if there was one thing you were good at, it’s reading people. Well, you thought you were, at least.

“Did you do any tests on your blood? How is your complete blood count looking?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why the fuck not, Ace? It’s not like you don’t know how to do it.”

He was angry, really angry. You’ve never seen Norm this angry, you’ve never seen Norm acting this way towards you.

You just shrugged. With a huff of annoyance, he took your arm and prepared a needle and syringe to collect some blood. He gulped and you could see tears forming in his eyes when he looked at the violet bruises and needle holes that were plastered along the length of your brachial vein.

“Just didn’t get around to it.”

“You didn’t - Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“What medicine have you been taking? Did you take the Relenta, or the combination therapy we have been working on?”

“Neither.”

You swear you saw Norm’s entire body enter a catatonic state and he turned so red you were worried he was going to release steam out of his ears.

“You have been sick for a month and did not take anything, none of the treatments we have been working on?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye anymore, finding comfort in the pattern of the tiles on the floor.

“I can’t believe you. I didn’t peg you for someone who would just throw their life away meaninglessly. Your mum had to die because we didn’t have a way to treat her illness, and here we are, with a solution that YOU came up with for your own illness, and you will just not even try?”

You were quiet, not really having a way to rebut his questions.

“Fine. We will start you on the combination treatment tonight and take it from there. There’s other things we haven’t tried yet and I’m sure -“

“NO.”

“I’m not asking you. I’m not letting you fucking die.”

“Why must you always fucking try to fix everything, Norm? Some things can’t be fixed. I don’t want the fucking pills. I am done. I want this to be done.”

“So you’ll just die? Is that what you’re saying? You want to die, and not even fucking TRY to see if there is more to this life. Goddamn it, Y/N. I thought having the Avatar would help you realise life is worth living, there’s beauty in this world beyond the walls of this lab. You got your first kill, you did the Iknimaya, you’re going to become one of the people. Don’t you want to see what your future holds? Don’t you want to live to see yourself grow up? Fall in love, start a family. There are more guys in this world than just Neteyam.”

You gave Norm a dirty look and got out of the lab.

Neteyam felt his whole body reel after your conversation. It didn’t change anything, he thought bitterly. He thought explaining it to you, allowing to see that he had good reasons for his actions would allow you to forgive him, to at least allow him the opportunity to make it up to you through time. You left, just like he had so long ago, but there was a finality to you that he didn’t feel then. Back then, he always had hope that a miracle would still be possible, one in which you got an Avatar, healed and loved him, forever. He wanted to love you forever, but his apology and explanations were not enough.

He lost you, again.

He spent the night flying on his Ikran, just flying and letting the rain soak his thoughts and hurt away. He just wanted to disappear. He wanted the rain to melt his bones until there was nothing left of him but the memory of happier times.

In the early hours of the morning, he made it back to the village, trying to hide his cried out eyes and calamitous grief. He was dreading having to talk to his parents, to explain to them what happened, to have to go through with Tiongli and this future he didn’t want and will have to suffer through for the rest of his life. He didn’t have time to worry about it too much though, because, as he managed to get to the tent’s entrance, he heard Norm’s voice and his dad’s, intertwined with his grandma’s voice rising above them.

“It won’t work. Eywa will not allow her to come back.”

“Why not? She has taken her Iknimaya, she has completed her kills, she has spent her entire life in the village’s service, trying to help the best way she knew how. If she doesn’t deserve this, who does?”

“It’s not that she doesn’t deserve it. It��s that she doesn’t want it. She doesn’t want this, Norm. The Great Mother will not transfer the conscience of someone with no future.”

“But maybe if this happened, she will realise that she wants to live. Once she’s rid herself of her weak body, of this disease, maybe she will -“

“The Great Mother’s word is final. She will die, because she wants to die.”

Mo’at’s voice rang in his ears so hard he thought his eardrums would pop.

She doesn’t want it.

She will die.

What were they talking about? Who would die?

No… it couldn’t be. No, the Great Mother wouldn’t be so cruel.

He didn’t wait to hear the rest of the conversation, running as fast as his feet could carry him back to the lab. He reached soon enough, he was faster than most other people in the village, and started knocking on the door of the lab with all his might.

“Y/N, OPEN UP, I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE!”

Eventually, Max came to the door, through which Neteyam burst without consideration for the tiny human next to him.

“She’s not in, Neteyam. She left before any of us had a chance to say anything.”

“Was she in her Avatar body?”

“No, the body is in the den where they sleep.”

He didn’t bother thanking the man, as he turned on his heel and started running again. She was there, had to be.

It was still raining, the clouds relentless as they released drops that poured gently down his face and body, and Neteyam thought the Great mother was crying, mourning the love being washed away like a pebble in the river of the clearing, just like he was.

You were there, of course you were. A current shocked Neteyam at the sight of you. This was the first time he has seen your human body in months, and he found it hard to reconcile the image of you he has known all his life with this current one. You were incredibly thin, so thin, whereas a few months ago he could trace your muscles, he could now trace your bones. You were pale, almost ashen, and the hair that he once spent so long admiring was now brittle and dull, obvious even as it was, wet and clinging to your back. You looked lifeless. He felt a lump form in his throat and tears pool in his eyes that were still not dry from all the pain this day has brought.

You didn’t notice him yet, your human ears much less sensitive than your Avatar, so you were just sitting on the riverbank with your chin resting on your knees, which were brought to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. You were looking at the water, and it was like you weren’t actually there. You were in your own world, far from here, from this hurt.

“I was going to ask if it was true, what I heard Norm talk about in the tent today, but I think you’ve answered my question.”

Neteyam saw you flinch, and it felt like even that brought your weak frame pain. You were trembling when you looked at him, and your face made his own drop in shock. Your beautiful features, the blush in your cheeks, the glimmer in your eye, the pink of your lips, your animated expressions or raised eyebrows, were all gone. Your eyes looked glossed over and numb, your face looked ghostly and sunken, and Neteyam swore he could trace every blood vessel on your forehead and neck. The sight of you made whatever happiness or hope he had left dissolve and trickle down his bones, until it reached the ground where it was eventually buried, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think I could make myself any clearer, Neteyam.”

“tell me it isn’t true. Tell me he’s lying; he’s making it up.”

“What part?”

“All of it.” Neteyam was angry now, trying to contain the temper rising in his chest.

“Tell me you’re not dying.”

“Norm has a big fucking mouth.”

“Can you for once in your fucking life just answer a question? This is fucking serious!”

You winced at his words, then struggled to get up, but did eventually and fully face him. The state of you hit him like bullets, piercing and scraping at his every organ, leaving bleeding wounds behind.

“It’s true”.

Crack, crack, crack. 

“When?”

“The night you gave me the guitar. I was so busy being in love with you I forgot to put the proper protection on, and I smashed a bottle of infected blood. It got in my mouth, in my nose.”

“I thought you were working on a cure.”

“Haven’t found it yet.”

“But you said you have something that kind of works, something to give people more time.”

“I’m human, it doesn’t work that way for us.”

“So, you’ve tried.”

You weren’t looking at him anymore, just staring at the ground in front of you, somewhere next to Neteyam’s feet.

“Tell me you have fucking tried.”

It thundered aggressively as Neteyam said that, and he saw you once again tremble at the loud sound. You have never been a jumpy person. You were the bravest person he knew. You were the strongest person he knew. It was unspeakable having to watch you now, sitting meekly in front of him, when just a few days ago you took the Iknimaya, taking the climb to the toughest tests known to the Omatikaya, doing it like it was nothing, just another day for you. To know that this is what was hiding underneath, this is what you hid from all of them, made him both impossibly miserable and strikingly enraged at the same time.

“TELL ME YOU HAVE TRIED.”

“NO, OKAY?? NO, I HAVEN’T FUCKING TRIED.” You were sobbing now, your tears washed away by the rain and wind as soon as they fell down your cheeks.

“Why?”

“Because I am tired. I want this to end.”

“I thought you were happy. I thought you were better. You seemed better in the Avatar.”

“I was better… in the Avatar. Because that wasn’t my life. That was just a beautiful dream, while my life was the never-ending nightmare. It was easy to pretend in that body. It was easy to be the version of myself everybody wanted me to be. But I have to live with the real me every night. And I don’t want to do it anymore.” The more you cried, the more Neteyam’s blood boiled in his veins.

“That’s such fucking bullshit.”

“You know what I think?”

“I think dying is fucking easy. It’s your easy way out.”

You looked up at his much larger frame incredulously, and he saw how your mood was starting to mirror his own.

“What did you just say? You think this is fucking easy for me?”

“Yes, I think it is. I think all you’ve done since your mum has died is take the easy way out. Put everything and everyone in your little bottom desk drawer, keeping everyone at a distance. Do you know how much mother and father suffered every time you refused to come out, to come to the village? My mother cried herself to sleep at the thought of you alone in that lab, at the thought that you preferred that soulless, empty place to her, to us. Did you know that?

You have not once opened that drawer, not once dealt with anything. All you do is numb yourself down, pretend you are fine and the issues you have suffered through do not exist. Well guess fucking what, Atan? They exist. And until you deal with that pain and let it pass over you and through you, you will always take the easy way out.

You have made me feel like the worst person in the world, for leaving, for lying to you. But what the fuck have you done, huh? You lied to me about dying, for weeks! About dying! What, was I supposed to find you dead one day and that was it? That was what I deserved from you, after all the blood, sweat and tears I gave you? You said I took your choice away. You wouldn’t have even given me a choice to say goodbye to the love of my life before you fucking died!

I left you for a year because I wanted to protect you, you are leaving permanently because you refuse to fucking deal with the pain and hurt I know you feel deep down inside. You had a choice. You could have come to the many people who love you, love you unconditionally, and told us, and let us in, and let us help you. You could have gotten help, taken the pills, fight your damn hardest to make this work, to find a cure, for the life your mum gave you, the life she would have to watch you throw away. You have a choice now. To want to live, to want to fight through this and come out the other side a new, better person. To let me love you, let people love you. To do the consciousness transfer and be with me, and be happy, forever. And you’re choosing this.

You are a coward.”

Neteyam turned on his heel and walked away, before he got a chance to see you collapse on the ground, giving your last few breaths in the place he used to imagine both of your children laying in his arms peacefully while you sang them to sleep.

Tag list (I hope I didn't miss anyone, thank you so much for asking to be tagged &lt;3): @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @inomoikawa @jackiehollanderr @jaysarchiv3 @meivap @dakotali @hlhl99 @eskamybeloved @erenjaegerwifee @winchestertitties

[0v3rcast]

Departure

You can give no more than you have already. You leave.

(Abandoning a relationship, for your own sake. Angst.)

(Content warnings: I dunno, it's just sad? Mentions of a failing relationship?)

Three bags of your belongings sit at your feet.

In the largest bag are your clothes. Not the clothes they'd given you or any of their clothes that you'd claimed - they are your clothes, both from before the relationship and that you'd purchased for yourself, as well as several sets of traveling clothing that you'd purchased a piece at a time in the past months.

In the second largest bag are your toiletries. Soaps for your skin and hair, a toothbrush and toothpaste, fine-toothed combs, several ornamental hairpins that had belonged to a relative, a small lint roller, and small bottles of both perfumes and colognes.

In the third bag are personal possessions. Mora, photos, a music box you'd been given as a young child, a favorite painting you'd removed from the frame and gently rolled up.

You take nothing of theirs. Nothing they'd given you. Nothing you'd found shared meaning in as a couple.

The weapon you'd learned to master rests against your leg from where you sit at the kitchen table a final time.

On the table lie the supplies you'll require to outline your grievances. Word of mouth does not carry the same hollow permanence as a written message.

It takes you some time to gather all of the scattered emotions in your chest into a tight, controlled ball.

Ink meets paper, pooling for a single solitary moment, and you begin to write.

'To my beloved:

I am sorry, but I can't do this any longer, and I suspect from your lateness and distance in recent months that neither can you.

At the beginning of our relationship, you were the only person I could see - no other living being on Teyvat had the same attractive nature you did. You were everything to me, and in some ways, you still are.

I have tried to sustain this crumbling connection we share, to preserve the magnetism that bound us so tightly. Every morning, if you are even still there when I wake, I do not recognize the person I see.

My concerns for your health seem to go unnoticed. When I make you a meal, you've either already eaten or are too tired to sit with me.

When I plead with you to rest, you refuse to, even though I can see the exhaustion in your eyes.

My presence seems to irritate you. Our conversations tend to either devolve into fights or slowly go quiet.

You feel as cold as your side of the bed we used to share.

When I ask you to join me on my trips to enjoy a night with others or to visit a restaurant, you are unavailable due to work or simply have no interest in the journey.

I know you have not been finishing what I make you. I have found the meals in the trash, often with very little having been eaten.

You have given me gifts in recent weeks. Trophies of your victories, symbols of your status, proof of your work. Once upon a time, I would have lovingly collected them and placed them in our home in such a way that all who visited would see them, would know my pride and love for you.

They are no replacement for your presence in my life. You cannot expect them to be an acceptable substitute for all the little moments we no longer spend together.

But I suppose I should thank you, as well. The argument we had last week has given me much to think on, including myself.

Your behavior leads me to a single conclusion: the fault lies with me.

Was I not enough?

Did my actions push you away?

Was it something I said?

...is there another, one who can take care of you the way I cannot?

Am I so thoroughly unsatisfying?

The answer doesn't particularly matter anymore.

I wish to ask for one final favor. You may reject it, but for both our sakes I hope you will humor it.

Find another. Move on. Heal from this. Live a life you will not regret. I will do the same.

Perhaps in another life, this would never have come to pass. But here it has.

I doubt we will meet again.

Thank you for everything. Thank you for pretending. Thank you for being here long enough to make me feel special.

Beneath this note you will find two stacks of documents. The first are a collection of every expenditure I have incurred during our relationship, in the form of invoices, receipts, and bills, itemized from most to least expensive.

The second stack are records of withdrawals from my private funds for the purpose of repayment, with signed affidavits from bank managers to confirm that I have done this of my own free will and through legally-accepted channels.

I cannot give you back your time. All I can do is return the money.

When you read this, I will be gone. The world is too vast to stay and fester miserably in the absence of you.

This is goodbye, both as a person and as your partner. I do not do this to hurt you, but to spare us both more misery.

I want you to be happier.

I love you.'

You gently lay the letter down, pack away your writing tools, and tuck them into the third bag.

The front door shuts behind you with a sense of finality, and your shadow slowly follows you in the afternoon light.

You leave the place you once thought of as a home with no outward expression of the grief and sorrow oozing inside of you like wicked poison.

Those who question your sudden departure are simply told you are going to visit family, but otherwise you say as little as possible.

When they come home, the stars now twinkling in the night sky, they find the note.

As you said, you are gone. You crept over the horizon with the sunset hours ago.

And the weight of your absence slowly begins to settle on their chest.

[tubbypeddle]

May I request a platonic/queerplatonic matchup for JJBA and One Piece? (No Dio, Kira Part 4, or Doflamingo please)

I am 26 years old, autistic, and schizoaffective, I am on meds that allow me to function from day to day and am living my best life. 

I’m a feminine presenting nonbinary person and I go by they/them pronouns. I’m 5’7 ft, have tan skin, dark brown eyes, and wavy, brown hair. I have a curvy body type with stretch marks on my hips and stomach I lovingly call my “tiger stripes”. My default outfits consist of hoodies/sweaters, basketball shorts, joggers, and graphic tees or something of equal comfort. 

I am aromantic allosexual with a preference for individuals that are masculine. 

Personalitywise, I’m an introverted leaning ambivert, I do my best to push myself to be a better person than I was yesterday. I am very emotionally open and vulnerable to those I trust, but said trust is hard earned and some trust is reserved only for specific individuals (i.e what I trust my Mum with is different than what I would trust my siblings/best friend with). I love learning new things and always remain curious with the world around me. I am creative and imaginative; I have lots of ideas swirling in my head though I do my best to work and finish one at a time. I have a hard time with small talk but could talk people's ears off about and exchange special interests.I also love teaching and being taught and am patient. It takes quite a bit to get me mad, but when my threshold is reached it’s “take no prisoners”. 

I despise willfully ignorant/vulgar/bigoted people. Yelling, loud cars, and motorcycles feel like an attack on my nervous system and a way to bypass my patience and tick me off is teasing someone about their appearance or things they can’t biologically control (past bullying trauma), I don’t care if it was “just a joke” Brad, get a better sense of humor or I’ll run you over with my electric bike. 

I’m scared of my friends leaving me behind, treating me like a second class friend, or otherwise losing interest in me in favour of a romantic partner (no hate on the partner, my usual thought process is two friends for the price of one but what pans out is usually not the case 🙁) and of course heights. 

My hobbies include writing, reading, drawing, swimming, travel, baking, karaoke, and crafting.

I love gifting my loved ones with things that pertain to their interests and coming up with fun things that I could do with them (Taking them to a carnival, comic con, waterparks, baking together, etc.). I am also very affectionate and I love, love, love cuddles, the deeper the pressure the better. Kisses are Very Noice™ too. 

Sunshowers and flurries are my favourite types of weather, I love anime/animated shows/movies, raspberries and rain are my favourite scents, and I have collections ranging from plushies to enamel pins to ita bags to action figures.  I would prefer someone who can be my rock when I’m not doing my best and is patient with and does their best to understand me. In return, I will be their companion, their friend, their confidante. I will accept their authentic self as they do me and be the one they can always come back to, who will always put in the effort, me, their dear platonic partner. 💛

Hello!! I'm so sorry for the ridiculously long wait! And thank you for sending this in! I'm going through a horrible a burnout right now, so I worked on this as much as I could without breaking down ;-;

Now, while I had the time, I thought long and hard about who would be your ideal friend! And maybe partner for life, queerplatonic or not, if you're up for it.

(author's note: I apologize if they're out of character ☹ I feel out of character myself. I hope you enjoy it anyway 🫂 and as always, credits to gif owners, gifs are not mine)

We'll start off with this one.

You find yourself in a world of Stand users. Of Hamon and vampires and devils whose evil is beyond our comprehension.

There's one man who's perfect for you. Your perfect friend.

Mohammed Avdol

Starting off with that which is most obvious, he does not seem to care much about your physical body. Not in a way that he finds you ugly, or that he doesn't like it.

He just never comments anything negative about it.

In the most positive way possible, Avdol does not care what you look like.

If you're looking for compliments from him, he'll dish them out happily. He does not mind showering you with affection and compliments if you want it. But what you look like isn't the first thing that comes to his mind when he thinks of you.

Since you're so personality driven, he's very happy to help you as much as he's able. He wants to see you at your best, and he wants to accompany you on your journey to that version of yourself.

You wouldn't have to worry about him making insensitive jokes. He's rather proud of how much effort he puts into being as inclusive and as inoffensive as possible.

He enjoys listening to your ideas, about anything that comes to your mind. Avdol is happy to listen, and even give some of his own ideas and suggestions for your infodumps, perhaps. If you're willing to hear.

He's also quite fond of your very curious personality. He enjoys learning, and will make time in his day to just sit and learn anything you want with you. To keep your company, and to make you happy.

Avdol, despite being very easy to become heated, is a very steady and stable man. He will be your comfort, your rock when you need someone to keep you grounded. Just as fire can be wild and uncontrollable, it can also be tame and warm and comforting. The hearth in your home.

You want patience? This man is made of that stuff. I mean, if he can deal with Polnareff and Joseph on that adventure? I'm sure he can handle someone as comparably docile as you.

Every single gift that you give him, he keeps it. Anywhere he can think of. If he's able to, he'll even display them in his home. There's something about your gifts being presented in his most intimate spaces that's so special. He wants reminders of you when he's most comfortable. As an assurance, perhaps. Or a comfort.

Cuddles are the best with him. He runs warm because of his Stand and his abilities, so they hit especially harder on colder nights. His favorite cuddling position is him just plopped on top of you, like he's a big weighted blanket.

He understands trust is a very tricky thing to balance with people. He's okay with not knowing every single little thing about you, if you so wished to keep some things from you. He just wants you to be comfortable around him, and if that means keeping some things from him, that's fine with him.

honorable mentions! Part 6 Jotaro

You're so charming to him. Captivating in a way he hasn't seen since his wife. He finds himself a little too attached to you, which may scare you off.

That's Jojo's done!

Onto One Piece.

You find yourself sailing across the sea. Or maybe you're on an island, made of candy, or made of ice and lava. Of rock and sand.

Wherever you are, there's one man who finds himself particularly interested in you.

Trafalgar Law

He's a loyal loyal man. Once he's decided you're his friend, you're his friend forever.

Post time skip is probably the best era of Law for you. Post time skip, he smiles and laughs less, but it's not impossible for him to be amused at all. His favorite activities with you tend to be

He finds you very charming, similar to how Jotaro does. You're short (compared to him, at least), and feisty, and know yourself well enough to be clear about your boundaries. He appreciates that. He likes when people are clear about themselves and their intentions. It's why he's such good friends with Luffy.

Hi friendship with you isn't the same as it is with Kidd and Luffy though.

With them, he's competitive. Dangerous. Downright vicious with them, in the most affectionate way possible. (You know, as is the One Piece way)

With you, he's a little bit softer. A little bit more physically affectionate. His only examples of showing love that he can bring himself to remember are his parents, and how Corazon treated him. He doesn't remember much of his parents' tendencies anymore, it's been so long. But he could never forget how Corazon treated him.

He often finds himself repeating Corazon's actions to you.

Maybe he's a little mean sometimes, a little firm with you. But it comes out of the softness of his heart.

He wants you to be safe. He doesn't want you to get hurt because of him and his pirate lifestyle.

Should you find yourself insisting to come with him aboard the Polar Tang, he'll be very against it. He appreciates and even likes that you want to prove your strength, and stay by his side. But he just cannot risk losing you. He's lost too many people already.

He might be a bit tense when it comes to any sort of soft physical affection, initially. It doesn't take long for him to soften, though. He melts with your touch, honestly.

Trust also doesn't come easily to him, so it comes as a surprise to him when you open up to him so easily. (To him, at least, it seems easy. because he has issues up the wizzow)

He's careful to keep your trust in him, cradling it as if it were the most precious gem in the world. He opens up to you slowly, and it's easy to scare him off. He's like a stray.

Just as he's patient with you, please be patient with him.

He's damaged, and lost a little too much in his life to know how to open up so easily.

He takes your gifts easily. He loves being gifted things, even if it flusters him beyond belief. He hasn't been gifted things very often throughout his life, so he'd forgotten it was a thing that people did.

honorable mentions!! Luffy

Luffy is easy to be friends with, because he will just straight up take you hostage if you refuse the first time. He sees you and immediately thinks, "I must be their friend."

I am so sorry this came out so so late. I don't feel very good, I think it's a depression episode, but I DID IT!!!!!

I hope you enjoyed this one 🫂

[wolfiemcwolferson]

hello, unusual request of mine, but for the prompt thing .. could you maybe do 9???????

thank u love u

hi baby, Piarles son of my CEO with a twist. I was going to make everyone suffer DEEPLY about this pre-race drabble but I decided against it after making myself very sad.

Pierre has no business being here.

It's too late, it's too hot, and he's got to be in a meeting to meet the new nepo hire tomorrow morning at 10 AM.

But, that's why he's here.

His guy - the one he hired and trained and turned into the perfect employee - was passed over for the son of the CFO.

He's barely out of grad school - probably can't write a report without consulting his textbooks.

And he's meant to be Pierre's equal. He's meant to be the person that Pierre is going to work with on major acquisitions - trust to read his mind and stay late. Do all the work that Pierre does.

So, he swore off doing this - off dragging pretty boys in bars home when he should be home sleeping and resting his brain for his job, but he's here and there's a boy sucking on the side of his neck while they ride the elevator to his floor.

"You live in a nice place." The Pretty Boy says when the elevator stops and Pierre hums, squeezing his waist, pulling him down the hallway.

They haven't spoken much. There had been some dancing and some light kissing and then he had been the one to ask Pierre if he wanted to leave with him.

He's electric though. He's electric underneath his touch and he's beautiful even in the harsh light of the hall and Pierre knows he's the kind of guy he would ask on a proper date if they met in a coffee shop or maybe at the gym.

"I do," Pierre smiles at him as he pushes the door open and then there's no more talking for awhile.

There's no more talking for exactly three hours and then there's too much talking for Pierre's liking, but he can't seem to stop.

Charles is funny as hell and he's kind of stupid and he's the best fuck Pierre has had in ages, and he's eating Pierre's lunch currently, standing up at the counter while Pierre sits across from him, accepting cold chunks of sweet potatoes off the fork.

"I just think," Charles laughs through a mouthful of potato and a smile, "that no one actually hates action movies. They say that because they want to seem cultured and interesting and above it!"

Pierre has to swallow a piece of potato that's a bit too big so he doesn't choke on it.

"There is not another genre of anything that lets you look at a dirty, hunk of man, doing things that no human being should be able to do, and -"

"Okay, yes!" Pierre agrees with him, but he waves his hand to try and get him to stop talking. "But that doesn't really do it for me so maybe that's -"

Charles spears another sweet potato and hangs his head. "There's not a single part of you that enjoys the thought of some big strong man throwing you over their shoulder and -"

He squeals because the stool Pierre was in falls to the floor and Pierre is chasing him around the counter and it's way too much for a hook-up but Pierre can't care.

Charles is gone when he wakes up, but his name and his number are on the fridge whiteboard calendar in the Saturday slot and Pierre understands that he's meant to call him on Saturday, but he's running a bit late, so he just dumps his ruined lunch into the trash and grabs one of those canned coffees that he keeps in the fridge and hopes that his shirt goes high enough to cover the bruise on his neck that Charles left with his teeth.

He's going to call him. He's already decided.

Pierre is halfway through his morning routine. He's checked his email on the train and now he's responding to everything urgent and he's about to go and debrief with Alex about their upcoming meeting, but Otmar knocks on his door, sticking his head through it immediately.

"He's here," he says simply and Pierre abandons his emails and he knows that he won't be talking with Alex. He walks into the hallway after Otmar, expecting to be met with the face of a literal child except -

Charles stands there, new badge around his neck, hands in the pockets of his black suit pants, smiling at Esteban with his eyes crinkled up and Pierre thinks he might just die.

That's the fresh faced grad that he's going to have to suffer through.

"It's nice to meet you," and then Charles makes a show of looking at his badge, "Pierre. I hear we are going to be working together on acquisitions."

Pierre has regrets, but he nods at Charles, making a show of looking at his badge too. "Charles, we will be spending most of our evenings together."

And then when Charles reaches out to shake his hand, Pierre squeezes on it too hard, watching Charles' nostrils flare.

He's swearing off pretty boys in clubs. He decides. For good this time.

[alexanderlightweight]

How's it going? I saw the huge amount of prompts you got last week, and while the reader inside of me feels ecstatic to be able to read so much of your work, please let us know if it ever gets to be too much?

The prompt I had in mind (if it doesn't work for you no biggie, just ignore this ask) would actually fit in a lot of the 'verses you already made before.

I would love to read about Jace and Izzy suddenly realizing what their malicious callousness has cost them. No more big brother/parabatai to spoil them, to protect them, to take on the repercussions of their actions. Then, when that has truly sunk in, let them have a look at Clary and doubly realize that that is what they gave him up for.

Again, if this prompt doesn't feel up your alley, just let me know. I have a one-word backup prompt if need be 😉💜🖤💜🖤

your concern and worry is so sweet and i appreciate it! it's actually going very well, I am definitely going to take care of myself because I'd much rather enjoy myself and have continued writing wednesday's for a very long time rather than burnout and close prompts so I'm taking it carefully. Today because there are so many prompts and tumblr keeps shuffling the order, I'm also changing the way I answer prompts to random which makes it easier!

hahaha no i loved it. i absolutely loved the complexity of figuring out where to go with this prompt it and i really enjoyed writing it. because you're right, it could be a lot of different fics but i think the one that sinks into the hilt, is Izzy coming to that realization in the deruned fic after Maryse' leaves.

(also in Jace's defense he had a piece of his soul torn out, he's very much still in partial shock and not processing stuff very well)

thank you <3

lumine

-

“Why didn’t you stop her?” Clary croaks and she sounds small and hurt in a way that Izzy knows Jace normally rushes to soothe. Izzy normally tries too, but they’re both too numb.

“What?” Izzy finds herself asking, confused as she finally turns from the direction her mother left. “Sorry, Clary. What?”

“You should be sorry! She’s your mother and you just let her hold me and threaten me? Threaten my mother? What is wrong with you people that you’re all like this? Of course it runs in the family. God, you and Jace are the only normal ones. Shadowhunters are psychos.”

Izzy hears the crack of bone against bone before she even realizes she’s struck. Clary is on the floor, holding her cheek in shock and staring up at Izzy in horror. 

“My brother was right.” Izzy finds herself saying helplessly, “you’re nothing but trouble. We should never have helped you. Never have listened to you, by the Angel, we should never have trusted you.” Izzy can feel the tears she’s been holding back threaten to fall and she’s trying to hang onto her composure but in the face of her mother’s rage-fueled devastation, she can’t. “You even admitted you didn’t care if any of us died to find your mother. I told myself it was grief, that it was just being new.”

Izzy shakes her head and hears a cracked laugh, it’s from her own throat, “you don’t care about the dangers the cup represent. You only care about yourself and your mother. You’d probably would have actually  given it to him, if it had been the only way to get her. Traded the lives of hundreds for someone who is a traitor and we let you right in, we protected you against our own. I defended you, to him, from him, when it was Alec who needed protection from you.” Izzy runs a hand over her face, not carrying that it’s going to smear her makeup. “I can’t do this anymore. Jace— don’t you dare look at me like that. You know it’s true. That Alec was right all along and you tore him down for it.” Shame enters her voice, “we both did and for what. Do you think it’s worth it, Jace?”

Jace looks devastated from where he’s knelt next to Clary’s hunched form, holding her tightly like he’ll break if he lets go. Like he’ll realize it’s all real, that his parabatai is gone and all for a little girl who doesn’t even care.

“I don’t. I don’t think a single thing that causes Alec pain will ever be worth any of this. Especially 

“Izzy Alec’s probably fine! But my mother is under a spell—”

“Raziel! Your mother took a potion personally tailored for her! She’s fine and no, I’m not helping you figure out how to wake her up. That’s on you.

“Gods, my mother was right. Your mother is facing the consequences of her actions. It’s no loss to anyone but you, if she dies. But my brother is a loss for this Institute, for our family, for entire generations of current and future shadowhunters and he was punished for your wrongs. So let me tell you, Clarissa Morgenstern.” Because Clary has to be an enemy or Izzy might fall right back into the trap of her sweetly poisoned words and demands and accusations. “You are no friend to us, to any of us. You expect us to listen and die for you and yet you act above us, better than us except for when you need us. You mean nothing to us. You are the daughter of our greatest enemy and while you were an innocent when you came to us, you aren’t any longer.” 

“The next time you break the rules.” Izzy says and she holds herself as tall as she can, like Alec did, “I will personally ensure that you are held accountable. No one else will be punished in your stead ever again.” Izzy walks off, to her rooms and stares at herself in the mirror. She wonders what Alec saw when he looked at her. 

He never judged her, even when he was exasperated. Alec would sneak her out for shopping even though he hated mundane crowds and helped her design the outfits she wanted in a way that would help her fight. Spent hours with her as she tripped and tripped over him, learning to fight in heels. He’d learned the whip first, so just she had someone to spar with and Izzy lost that because she was selfish and stupid and she cared more about the excitement of something new. Because she’d felt in the right, because everyone knew Alec was boring, but now she wonders if it was boring, or just mature.

Her father has always praised her, calling her his princess, his elegant hunter, his mature little warrior but Izzy feels like a child now, playing dress-up. Slowly, she cleans off her makeup and then takes a shower. The water is hotter than usual and she feels faint when she’s done, as she slowly assembles the pieces of her new armor.

Her boots, four inches but stabilized with a core that will never let her wobble, a present from Alec on her last birthday that Izzy thought was a dig at her balance but now she thinks must have just been him trying to please her while protecting her. Tight pants that cover her skin because there’s no Alec to wipe away the ichor when it splatters on her and burns, or to soothe it away with potions and iraztes. No Alec to untangle her hair from her increasingly elaborate designs so she puts it into a high ponytail and braids in one strand of white silk ribbon into a single braid and she adds a peridot beads to it.

The beads she thought she’d never ever have to wear.

Izzy considers her body, only half dressed and she sighs, something wistful as she holds up her stele and carves a rune of remembrance above her heart and next to her angelic rune, to honor someone lost to you, by death or other means.  She wears a shirt of deep green that shows off her cleavage and her new rune and then she carefully applies the same red shade that her mother prefers. The one Alec got her when she was fifteen and that Izzy always wanted but was always afraid to wear, because she didn’t want to be compared to her mother and found lacking.

“I miss you, hermano.” She admits into the silence as she slides on a jacket one size too big. It’s the last jacket Alec ever gave her before he became too tall and broad for her to do anything but swim in his clothes. “I’m sorry.”

She straps on her weapons and watches as her face turns to something cold, something harder. It makes her look more like her mother, more like Alec and it’s with tears stinging the corners of her eyes that she opens her door and leaves.

The Lightwood’s will not fall from this blow.

Izzy will push herself until she can stand strong and protect what should have been Alec’s Institute and it’s people, the way Alec always protected her. 

[gray-griff]

04-07-2024; travels with epicurus, daniel klein

"Beauty is equilibrium, and equilibrium is beauty."

popping into bouquiniste books in st. andrews i saw a book sale and obviously had to nab a few, and while i recognised neither the title or author, at the mention of epicurus i decided to grab this one! i’ve absolutely supremely enjoyed klein’s “meditations on old age”, and while it has taken me almost a year to get to reading them, the timing alongside my transition to uni made this experience even more valuable. overall, to really penetrate the academic language and deeper philosophy concepts i think i would deeply benefit at reading it again. the book is not exceptionally lengthy, but it still took me a bit to get through as i often had to sit back and ponder each section as i read.

My Sartrean Ethics Crisis of 2024

this was, admittedly, a very small section of the text, but i’ll talk about it at length here because i found it incredibly impactful (believe it or not, for a book on old age I was not the target audience!).  foreword: i had not yet had the privilege of reading a single word of satre’s before this book. one of klein’s strengths is being able to cover a myriad of concepts and authors/philosophers n such a short time, but obviously doing so limits the depth and span of which he can discuss; tldr, he has sparked a great interest of satre in me, so if you have any recommendations besides his most famous (which i’ve already added to my tbr) or your own takes on his writing, i’m dying for more and would love to hear xP

to continue:

klein writes as such; “In Sartrean ethics we are directed to live authentically— “authenticity” being Satre’s take on the almost universally accepted injunction “To thine own self be true.” A person lives authentically if he operates from the principle that his existence precedes his essence. He is not essentially, say, a waiter or a Democrat or a daytime drinker, these are roles he may choose to play, but not innate qualities that he cannot transcend. For example, an authentic person cannot in good faith say, “I drink two scotches at lunch because that is just the way I am.” He would be treating himself as an object with immutable characteristics, not existing as a subject with the ability to choose who he is and what actions he takes.”

this concept i’m well acquainted with, and i liked to think i understood and internalized. however, what he follows this with has completely shifted my sense of self, and has deepened this concept to the point that i think i can now actually begin to comprehend non-essentialism.

he goes on to say “For me, the most relevant piece here is Sartre's warning against treating oneself as an object. This is a rare bit of moral philosophy that I can actually feel: treating myself as an object makes me feel less alive, less myself. When, say, I find myself in the frame of mind where I am convinced that I am essentially an inconsiderate person and there's nothing to be done about it, I not only feel defeated, I feel that in denying my ability to willfully change I have stopped being truly alive. But at the same time it would be ridiculous not to accept what is beyond my control: I can no more choose to be a young man than I can choose to be tall and blue eyed.

Basically, most of us want to be as responsible for our lives as we can be—it is fundamental to making our lives our own. I choose, therefore I am who I am.”

i could not for the life of me understand the concept of “there is no essential, one true ‘(y/n)’”, i was limiting myself because i didn’t connect that letting our roles invade our essential beings goes beyond my job, or my hobbies, i didn’t connect anything! i feel much freer now, i am essentially nothing, and therefore i am free to change, it is not a betrayal of self. i may have done a horrible job of explaining my thoughts just there, i apologise, it’s far too wrapped up in my emotions to be clear and concise.

another conclusion i reached after only being able to make connections to the midnight gospel: i need to read more philosophy. my catalogue is so small that its an 8 episode mini series made by some guy with a podcast.. i mean its a fantastic series but that cannot be it for me. i’ve had a lovely taster of some of the thoughts of so many of the big ones in this, as well as some of his personal favourites and i feel so inspired now to learn!! 

this book is amazing in that i feel like its enforced my positive view on life! i’d really love to go back to this after a lifetime of studying philosophy and aging and seeing how much more deeply I understand the text, i hope i do

༄˖°.ೃ࿔:

[conflee]

Homestuck Beyond Canon Thoughts

Since I'm in a unique position, for myself at least, to for the first time be really in the trenches alongside everybody else as something like this comes out, and I find myself surprisingly really enjoying it despite the forewarnings I received from my fellow Stuckies as I dipped my toes into the behemoth that is Homestuck for the first time a couple years ago, I figure it's a good idea for my to revive this blog a bit more and actually talk about a piece of media I am consuming for once. And not just consuming, digesting.

My non-spoilery thoughts first:

I actually enjoy the Epilogues and Beyond Canon. They did some things I disliked, but Homestuck proper had the whole Dancestors Game segment that lasted 4000000 hours so no work is without flaws.

I feel like the biggest, most obvious flaws, are explainable within the narrative itself as the consequences of two characters' actions. If you've read it, you know which two. The other issues are pretty neatly cleaned up and explained in ways that I find satisfying enough to resolve my quibbles within the new team's handling of Beyond Canon.

For this next bit: I say this not to EXCUSE the worst of a specific writers' choices, but to give a REASON that makes sense in universe, and thus make it more digestible. Paired with the work the new team did to smooth the wrinkles out, like I said above, it makes it easier to accept for me.

The biggest thing I will state, while still not being spoilery yet, for those on the fence about picking up the Epilogues and Beyond Canon: Remember that this continuity's Jade's story is literally: Grew up alone on an Island for 13 years. Lived for like 5 days max in the Medium, hanging out with Dave a little before killing him, then being stuck in the Yellow Mile ALONE for three years, before being thrown into the final battle. She has zero experience with people and no social skills. That is all.

It should be obvious, but the following containes spoilers for the following:

Homestuck in its entirety

Homestuck Epilogues

Homestuck 2 / Beyond Canon as it is now known, up to Page 601 / the 'March 15th 2024 Update'

So, Analysis One: Alt!Calliope you can't mate with Ult!Dirk

I haven't engaged much with the wider community thus far, something I hope to rectify, but I highly doubt this observation has flown under the radar for everybody else.

Alt!Calliope or 'Al' is projecting a lot of Cherub biology and romance onto Ult!Dirk and it's going horribly, horribly wrong.

For a refresher for people, because gods know this story is too big for anyone but the obsessed to keep track of anymore, Cherub romance is exclusively Black, or Hate based. Unlike in Trolls however, this romance seems to be exclusively toxic, with no room for the tamer 'healthy Kismesitude' such as John and Terezi's to exist. When a 'Guardian' Cherub finds the path of destruction from a 'Conquer' Cherub, the Guardian will begin a relentless Retribution and Vengeance in the name of Justice hunt. As they find more and more of the destruction, their feelings begin to grow into a rivalry, and then a full blown toxic Kismesis crush, until they find the Conquer and fight them. Whoever loses the fight then ears the offspring of the pairing and their territories are ceded to the victor.

The issue now arises in the fact that I think Alt!Calliope is subconsciously viewing the conflict with Ult!Dirk in the same way. She's heavily implied as much on multiple occasions, deeming him a monster worse than even her brother. The origin of the biological/romantic drive for a Cherub to hunt down their opposite is to fill the void left when their opposite sibling half is destroyed in Predomination. So that comparison alone is a RED FLAG that she's doing this.

If you consider Alt!Calliope to be, functionally, the strongest entity in Homestuck aside from Ult!Dirk, Fan Writers, and the actual Authors of Beyond Canon, it makes sense that she's targeting an entity on a similar power scale to her. It's natural for Cherubs.

Her pursuit of Ult!Dirk has also been frames similarly to the Cherub mating hunt a few times by the story as well. She's pursuing him across the universe to end the evil harm he inflicts on all under his domain, the Narrative itself, a domain she seeks to usurp and claim as her own territory. Witnessing the signs of his destruction, the people he's left behind, the changes to the narrative he's caused, and the new universe he's trying to make by starting The Game.

It's pretty much overt at this point that she's seeing this conflict this way. What I am getting at, long-windedly, is that we should all expect 2 things in the final confrontation:

Firstly, Alt!Calliope is going to turn into the giant mating snake and have a Kaiju fight with Ult!Dirk. I just. I feel it.

Secondly, someone, probably Ult!Dirk, is going to make a 'The Baby is You' MPreg joke about the consequences if Ult!Dirk loses. It's going to happen. I HIGHLY doubt they go down that route of her TRYING to actually mate with him, that would be getting into some uh. QUESTIONABLE territory that I doubt they touch at all. But someone, either Ult!Dirk or maybe even Ult!Dave, is gonna make a reference at least. Guaranteed.

That's all I wanted to get to. Even if it's been noticed by others, I like documenting my train of thought as I go through stuff so I can look back in the future and see how wrong, or right, I was in the end.

They already made a reference to the 'Convention Halls' in the last Update. So I do not put another 'The Baby is You' meme coming as an impossibility.

[bluecaged]

oyasumi punpun was quite a read.

i love finding new pieces of media that undeniably echo the words of a book published in 1948. dazai wrote original works but his feelings of the raw human emotions were anything but original, and that’s what makes it so good.

oyasumi pun pun managed to capture that morbidity of everyday life and take it to the next level through its character progressions.

of course you find yourself empathizing with pun pun. i found myself attached to his story and contrary to the comments after each chapter, i personally enjoyed the more evil he got. i wanted him to cause more harm. do more wrong. for if he is the same as me, then let it be in fiction that he loses all composure of being a human being for it can only be in a book that i coulddo the same.

we’ve had quite similar childhoods yet through all his hyper sexuality i felt repulsed. not at him, but at the actions of my father. my father and midori.

i’ve reflected a lot on my past. and i’ve reflected a lot on how it might shape me. and through pun pun i see what not to become.

but boy do i feel just like him. forgetting the monster, living normally at the end, as if aiko did not happen, as if nothing broke him.

seki is undoubtedly my favorite character. his philosophies are what i hope mine to be one day. we’re similar in the way we don’t care, but we are different in the way that shapes us. i follow the nihilist yuichi mindset and only wish to achieve what seki has.

this has just been me rambeling about a mixture of real life and fiction but i’ve only finished the manga now and i cannot stop thinking about it. it’s too similar to my situation… much too similar that it leaves me in despair. i don’t know what distractions may fill this hole but the book has opened my eyes from the clouded delusions of the work cycle that now i remember how hopeless i truly am.

i can only just keep my act of the fool. blinded by my monstrosity and blinded by my past. the same past that pun pun and i share.

[saintsenara]

I’m curious why you loathe the implication that wizards are immune to muggle diseases. Is it because it reinforces the idea that they aren’t really the same species as muggles?

thank you very much for the ask, @urupotter!

and the answer is - yes, pretty much.

how the body is understood, how illness and disability are thought about, how the medical system works etc. are all questions that i am primed to obsess over in any piece of media - even when they're not actually significant parts of the story.

which is to say, i completely understand the reason why the harry potter series treats these topics in the way it does. magical medicine isn't one of the themes the story is designed to focus on - which means that its purpose is as incidental worldbuilding detail which reinforces the whimsical vibe of the earlier books and the darker vibe of the later ones, and which means that its treatment in the text makes sense within the setting and genre conventions of canon. harry being able to take a bludger - a cast-iron cannonball moving at speed - to the head and living to tell the tale is the same as john wick being able to fall from a great height, land on his back, and then get up and walk around: he's an action hero in a fantasy.

and so wizards being more physically durable than muggles - and also wizards having their own magical diseases, and being immune to muggle ones - all makes sense within the context of the books as literature. kids don't want to read about harry having a cold. they want to read about him being a wizard.

but when i'm deciding to enjoy myself by taking the question of just how fucked-up wizarding society is much more seriously than canon does... the implication that wizards are immune to muggle diseases and that they are broadly unaffected by physical trauma unless that trauma has a magical cause really bothers me. entirely - as you say - because it directly undermines the series' thesis that the purity of magical blood is irrelevant and that the wizarding world's dehumanisation of muggles and muggleborns by treating them as, essentially, separate, lower species is wrong.

the main canon example of this which i detest is dumbledore's suggestion in half-blood prince that merope gaunt could have survived childbirth if she'd simply "raised her wand to save her own life". after all, if a little bit of magic makes one immune to experiencing complications during childbirth [unlike thousands upon thousands of muggles throughout history, who would probably have very much liked to have lived to see their children grow up]... then voldemort is completely justified in thinking merope's death was a selfish, shameful, deliberate choice.

[i do understand that the idea merope chose to die is primarily included in the text so dumbledore can segue into saying that lily "had a choice too", contributing to the gradual reveal in half-blood prince and deathly hallows that she's the key to the whole mystery. but i still think that jkr could maybe have though a little bit harder about what she was suggesting with this than she evidently did...]

and so i think in fandom it's both fun and important not to accept the idea that wizards are automatically resistant to anything which might kill, injure, or disable a muggle - especially because it lets us really play with some of the big worldbuilding questions surrounding the conventions and institutions of wizarding society.

what do disability rights look like in a world which is so rabidly intolerant of difference, and which appears not to have any sort of welfare state? the nhs is a recent invention, created in a muggle britain which is culturally and institutionally separate from the wizarding one: so is treatment at st mungo's free - and, if not, what happens to those who can't pay? how is queerness understood in a society which appears to have views on sexual expression which are fairly conservative - and how does this mean the wizarding state responded to the aids crisis? what do reproductive rights look like in this kind of society? if the dementor's kiss results in - essentially - a vegetative state, what is done with the people the kiss has been performed on? what might it be like for your relative to develop dementia at 100... when you know they might live to 250? what impact do biases about blood status have on how muggleborn patients are treated?

i just think it's interesting!

[fitzpirations]

Some thoughts on me seeing Days of Wine and Roses like,, almost a month ago now but I don't feel like editing it other than to add a few extra bits in bold & at the end. Overall, I really enjoyed it! Intrigued at what's next for the cast & crew, and if I could see it again/replicate my first viewing I probably would.

My thoughts, like film have developed and I am mostly out of a terribly weird headspace that I was unfortunately stricken w/ this weekend and I gotta say I loved Days of Wine and Roses.

~~~~~~~

I do think it’s perfect in the theatre it is right now & while I would LOVE for it’s actors to win very big awards for it and do believe they are due… for me a transfer is not the right move. Willing to debate on it! I think the story is important and unique and beautifully told but,, I also think the set/sound/lighting design @ Atlantic is special and can’t imagine it staged differently. It perfectly fits that space and needs that intimate of an audience, in my opinion.

anyway, this isn’t a full review & no one cares, but I’m so stoked with how things turned out & with my friend and I scoring great cancellation ticket seats & seat upgrades for a very cheap price and the fact that REDACTED who I adore was also there. my friend spoke to them while I blacked out- it was very neat. So embarrassed of myself for our post-show interactions that I’ve physically cringed and tensed up every time I think about it but! The show keeps replaying in my head and I’ve been thinking more and more about how it was told and listening to the demos and I just think how great is it to see a new piece of live theatre! I went in knowing a barebones plot (and purposely avoided real reviews, the demos, and the original movie) and was so happy to go on that ride. I do so so wish my mental health wasn’t being all finicky because I think I would’ve been all the more immersed in it but- nothing I can do about that. Luckily I didn’t say much of anything to the redacted actors in question, but my lack of interaction with one while my friend spoke to them and kept nudging me & my theatre equivalent of “good game” to the other will haunt me forever ❤️ my only consolation is I believe I wasn’t memorable in my presence & that maybe 1 day I’ll properly meet these people who I literally adore as a fellow creative. Wouldn’t that be nice. Until then, I will continue to beat myself up about it LOL. It’s so,,, I hasten to actually explain it more, but I feel about 3 feet tall thinking about it.

And did they drink ANY wine the whole time??? I’m very Kirsten in the first few scenes-coded in that I don’t drink and really never should be convinced to, haha. So I’m not super knowledgeable on names of booze- but I think I would have noticed them drinking wine, red wine at least. And no roses, just sad tulips. Oh! I could go on about the 2 little transition scenes they do with ok, both the “wine” (the bag from the liquor store that they have you you to believe is only holding one bottle) and the “roses” (the soon-to-die Tulips). Like it’s set up as a bit of like? Something to watch while they’re moving things around but actually? It reappears in the actual plot in a large way. And so many moments echo and mirror each other in words, actions, and song between Joe and Kirsten, but the reprises (so to speak) are new and fresh. Just so so neat. What a fun & exciting new piece of theatre. And why is the rolling out of the bed all the way to the front of the stage so funny? maybe it just was to me.

anyway anyway I have a lot of thoughts/they keep coming in and like loading which is wild. Like I’m joking but it’s as if I blacked out?? Perhaps someone on here will appreciate the image of me debating just buying closing night tickets even though I was too cheap to spend full price on any other performance// but a newer friend of mine posted a story of like, the New York Times review on opening night and I responded to it like “I’ve been dying to see this show!” and he was like “yeah haha it’s really good I’m working press on it lol isn’t that funny and I had to take a group pic with Kelli and was emailing her to arrange something and she saw me and called me over by name and gave me a hug- I didn’t know she knew my name!” I worked with this guy on the show I stage-managed recently and he’s in the process of quitting his sweet sweet press agent job and I’m not a close enough friend to acquire tickets from him and let me tell you,,, I was absolutely losing my mind reading this .

cut to my (other, closer) friend and I rolling up to the show without tickets the other night, with just hope & a dream and we were like 'wouldn’t it be funny if we saw like ~celebs/Broadway people because a lot of them are off tonight?' and we were chatting about watching the Tony's and stage-dooring and other unrelated stuff & we get tickets after 20 minutes and go to dinner and when we come back she’s like look it’s REDACTED TONY WINNER and I’m like omg. We go to step into the building proper and who do I see but my literal favorite actor at the moment other than REDACTED who is in the show and I was like friend it’s REDACTED! and she’s like go say hi and I’m like??? No I will not be doing that. And she’s like but he’s your favorite! And hey, we’re here to see REDACTED, who’s your other favorite! It’s a big night for you! But she was so loud that I was like looking straight ahead embarrassed that the random people in line would hear us. Literally what a time though, we had standing room tickets and then we got moved up like twice to center row, perfect view seats. Literally like a day later I was finally like O MY GOSH about it all,,, the desire to not be crazy about any of it and keep cool made me robotic in the moment and I’m very pro leaving-people-who-don’t-know-me-alone, so the circumstances were odd.

Anyway I literally have a notes app I keep throwing thoughts at about the most random moments from the show or the staging and it’s v good theatre. Like I enjoyed it, but wasn’t in love or anything but the more I stew on it, it’s a random choice of adaptation, a weird little show, its stars (including the actress playing their kid) are arguably all too old for their roles, there’s a song in Norwegian?? the opening number didn’t give me the ick but I was scared for my life that Brian was singing all of his lines// like I knew it was going to be a “two-hander” and read that the others other than the kid don’t really sing but that opener,,, I was like o no do I hate this? But also the set was so cool and as a recent big fan of Brian is was v cool to literally see him irl (lame I know) but why does the cast just pose in the beginning and slay for like 30 seconds? Idk but it was v 1950s chic of them idk idk we literally were clapping like,,, YEAH 👏👏👏 yeah! 👏👏 . And the scatting/jazziness of it all, I literally was shook but so pleasantly surprised by it all. What a treat! New musicals!!!

ok i literally never resolved the point I was making that the opening scene was not my thing and I was a bit scared I was going to hate it, but really enjoyed like the following 90%! Something about the first song is that it shouldn't be a song, in my opinion. I get why people are tempted to call it a play with songs, but I do think it's a real musical. Just was a bit cursed watching Joe singing right off the bat when no one else did, imo! If I were to see it/hear it again I may come around to it, but something about the way he was like half-singing was weird to me lol

but also randomly saw something from a video (that I haven’t watched as of yet) of Kelli saying they were supposed to open on BROADWAY February 2021 I think?? (tell me they wouldn't have closed immediately w/ omicron? or am i mistaken, I watched like 3 shows I was rooting for that season close early, and there were a TON) Literally the more I think about the show I’m like,, respectfully don’t transfer to Broadway,, it’s so special where it’s at, like I know Atlantic announced its next season I feel? But I don’t know what theatre it would fit in correctly, they’re all too big and the opposite of the intimate experience it is rn. In a perfect world I literally want them to film this version (which I know is the epitome of highly unlikely) but also, I think realistically other than the star power of the cast and creative team it’s such a hard sell for your typical theater-goer or tourist and I would hate for its history to be one of a flop like,, what have we learned from The Sweet Smell of Success :((( I also learned via Kelli ‘s own post and someone’s reference on here that there’s a full boot of that…someone please me up with a link!

So what have we learned. A lot of takes I have not shared,,, it turns out I can get starstruck and it’s so embarrassing it makes me want to scream. Show is good! I’d love a cast recording and for it to not just die but,,, I’m fearful of the idea of a transfer- it seems like it’s likely happening anyway, someone on the team commented on Kelli’s ig about the Tony's all like “excited for next year!” And my press agent friend is all “they’re eying a transfer!” And it’s not that they don’t deserve it but… idk I will remain skeptical of that. I truly believe it can be a success where it is now, and that just because it isn’t a Broadway show doesn’t mean it isn’t impactful and rewarding creatively and etc etc there is the part in my brain like this is Brian’s Tony tho, no?

I firmly believe had everything w/ Next to Normal gone down differently he would have beat those little Billy Elliots’s in a heartbeat, but I digress. Like other than SSOS which I only have a idea of (and no clue about that year’s competition from the top of my head) he’s been up for 2 comedic roles which are hard sells in a category with “proper,” dramatic roles nominated -as in, actors who appeared in a leading role in a drama- and then ITW-which I have thoughts on separate from who his competitors were- which tows that line and sadly like,, it wasn’t even close for him. I feel like every nom he’s had doesn’t even quite show off how talented he is as an actor like idk how to describe it, but idk. I want a Chip Zien nom & win for Harmony, which my brain tells me may be a featured role but if it’s lead… all hypothetical but I’m not rooting on the show’s downfall… I just think it’s perfect where it is.

Anyway... chaotic highly informal thoughts but I also have a few screengrabs from my notes app note I am going to paste below. Would love to hear someone else's thoughts, and am willing to say, obviously, one of the REDACTED's in question is BdJ.

[judgementdaysunshine]

Congrats!!! Can I get a ship please ⚓️ ?

Fandom: Harry Potter / DC (preferably batfam) / star wars

She/her, and I'd like a male ship please.

I'm slightly above average height for a girl (about 5'9) with brown wavy hair, but I'm always dying it bright colours/changing my haircut (much to mother's dismay lol). Style-wise, I tend to alternate between super preppy, if not a little too formal, to just completely grunge. Depends on my mood and who I'm hanging around with that day I guess. I am quite impartial to my combat boots though. And high-heels. Ideally both at once.

I'm an INTJ Slytherin Leo--fairly introverted and aloof by nature but after years of practice and forcing myself out there, I can be quite bubbly and chatty when necessary (super draining though and it still sometimes weirds out some of my oldest friends how quickly I can switch). I will not shut up about random nerdy/sciencey nonesense if I feel comfortable. Not too great with emotions though--it's a work in progress heh.

Currently a physics and maths double major with a minor in philosophy because that somehow seemed like a good idea at the time and no one told me I couldn't do it. Quite active around campus--super involved in leadership for some clubs and the student union, and compete in debate. I love it because it's all super interesting af but I'm not too great at math for someone doing a degree in it and I'm at a point where I'm surviving on irresponsible caffeine consumption and spite alone. I switch between hobbies and interests really often because i suppose i just get bored a little too easily, so I'm a bit of a jack of all trades--only things I've really stuck with for a long time are writing (that will never see the light of day) and just tinkering around with stuff to figure out how it works and seeing what I can do with it. Technically a classically trained pianist because parents expected it but uh I haven't practiced in a while so I'm a 'lil rusty--more into rock music these days anyway.

I'm trilingual--French, English, and Arabic (needs a lot of work though). Trying to learn Latin for the hell of it (also helps with Philosophy a bit). Fortunately got to travel a lot as a kid because of my parents' work so it's helped with getting some practice I suppose. I just love travelling and getting to know other cultures honestly, especially having lived in big cities and had friends from all over my whole life. And getting to visit all the museums and art galleries is a huge plus.

Sorry this if this way too long, but congrats again! Have a great day xx

Here ya go dear! And thank you! 🪷

First I ship you with Remus Lupin! 💙

He likes your passion for physics and philosophy always seeing how hard you work and never give up which makes him so proud of you for it

He is amazed at how talented you are with foreign languages speaking Latin around him as well as bits and pieces of Arabic and French mostly speaking English but he never fails to smile when you say I love you in a different language

He always makes sure if you've had more than 2 or 3 and a half cups of coffee to give you water or milk even if sometimes he has to sweet talk you to do it he just wants you to be healthy a little bit

He never minds when you're chatty or quiet always listening and talking smiling sweetly at you before laughing at your bubbly and lively actions

He likes to have your head in his lap while you both read to each other or in silence enjoying the other's company

He likes seeing you wear his sweaters whether to sleep in or just around the house he falls in love with you all over again just seeing you in a sweater

Next I ship you with Tim Drake! ♥️

He always helps you if you're having trouble with math or any work that you are getting frustrated and confused by ready to teach you a few tricks to help

He never lets you get sleep deprived or really out of control with caffeine always giving you water or milk to help you in between the consumption of caffeine

He likes how you go from the nice button up and skirt with your hair up in a bun to a loose fitting grunge shirt and jeans with a messy ponytail or braids always smiling at how good you look

He loves going to the park or museum with you he lives learning more of history or just enjoying the peacefulness of the park in the evening or night

He likes hearing stories of you traveling around with your parents when you're younger always having a good laugh or fond smile hearing of your childhood

He likes to just lay on your lap or stomach when he is tired and needs sleep always feeling his stress wipe away laying on you while you wear one of his hoodies

And finally I ship you with Anakin Skywalker! 🧡

He never judges anyone for their size or height but he will take a chance at least twice to get a joke about your short height just to make you pout at him

He likes listening to you play piano when the two of you are in Naboo visiting Padme or your family in your childhood home on Corusant

He likes knowing more of the cultures from you since he only knew a bit of naboo culture and some of Tatooine and corusant culture but learning more about them and if others made him love you more

He likes to teach you how to use a blaster and drive a speeder always smiling at you driving his speeder like he does but also mindful of how you drive and how fast reminding him of Obi wan

He loves how you treat his padawan like a sister, his best friend like a sister, and his master like a father loving them just as much maybe even more than he did

He gets tearful and emotional when he sees you place a flower on his mom's grave always going to tell her happy birthday, happy Thanksgiving, merry Christmas, happy New Year, and how much you wish you could have met her making him fall in love all over again

[applesfallingfromblondehair]

🐝 Ooookay SO! I think we are not talking about the fallingforyou scene… like… HELLO?? that shit BROKE me. Matty, we all know you want George. If you really loved Ross THAT much you wouldn’t be so tempted all the time. I get it, bad situations make for bad actions but come oooooooon. I feel like all the attention Ross is getting definitely has a huge influence on his questionable behaviour; He wasn’t experienced AT ALL when things with Matty started. Now all the hot lads want a piece of him? (I’m trying so hard to forgive Ross for the ‘Beginner’s luck?’.) Of course he’s going to be tempted and do stupid things. Poor baby is just facing a lot of shit right now.

On a different note- I’m obsessed with the flirty sexual vibe between Ross and Waughy. Love them to pieces, please marry already, thank you very much. (Same goes for Matty and George x)

Now to George. As someone who went from OG Team Ross to Team George in the past couple of chapters, I really hope he will be okay very soon. While Ross faced the terrors of potential conversion therapy (which is fucking horrible), and not being able to see his friends, it could’ve been worse. God I feel like a bit of a twat playing this down, I swear I do have a lot of sympathy for ross, but it’s not like his family actually sent him off to conversion therapy camp 😭 George on the other hand? Lost everything within the blink of an eye. I don’t want to imagine what he went through immediately after his dad confronted him with it. I’m glad Matty is there for him. And damn, you’re hitting us with all the deep cut songs in that chapter. 102? That’s pure evil! 😂

After this chapter I’m veeery clearly Team Raughy and Team Gatty (and #1 Jack and George’s dad hater still)

An honorable mention goes out to Bedford, who I might even love a bit more than our confused little baby gays just because he’s not as messy as them ❤️ He’s just living his life!

Thank you so much for this rollercoaster of a story. I’m *really* enjoying this a lot!

Ooooh a long one! *rubs hands together*

First of all, you're right. Ross is between a rock and a hard place, so to speak, with his family life falling apart coinciding with the moment when *boys* finally start noticing him, and as a teenage boy mostly thinking with his dick (especially when things are bad), that was always a recipe for disaster. I know you're mad about the "beginner's luck" and I will never apologise enough for that one, I fear 😅

I'm glad someone is team Raughy here because I am pretty much always team Raughy, and when I had the idea of introducing John in this story I got so incredibly excited and wrote myself a million notes about it way before I'd figured out exactly what I wanted to do with him. I just love them very much 😭

And yeah maybe George does have it worse than Ross, but I would argue only marginally (you'll see what I mean in the next Ross chapter 👀) and Matty was definitely definitely overeager about the whole "moving in" bit... and 102 was just begging to be written into this bit, it had been way too long and a callback was necessary ❤️

I'm glad someone is bringing up Bedford because I love that baby and he and George do have a special bond, whether George likes it or not. Bedford and George 4ever really 🐍💚

Thank you thank you thank you for this super long piece of feedback and for always being so enthusiastic about this story, it really helps so much to receive these and to know that people care. You're the best! ✨🥲

[chewinglass]

9:36pm. I should go to sleep soon.

What do you do when you hate the person you are, when you hate her for spending so much time hating herself. Dragging herself down when she clearly wants to be free. This post is to help me process feelings I’ve been feeling.

I’ve been shedding layers of my old self. I have a sleep schedule that doesn’t leave me awake for sunrise anymore. I have an exercise routine and actually look forward to working out. I eat healthy because I care about how it makes me feel. Somehow, I can’t kill the voice inside of me that wants me to suffer for all of my short comings. Wants me to remember them because she thinks they make me change my behavior, maybe they do? I am feeling a push to be a new person. The only issue is… I don’t know who. I have wrapped my identity around people I don’t believe in anymore, because I realized my life had become agony with no respite. And in the depths of that pit, I waved a white flag and admitted I no longer wanted to suffer. I no longer wanted to tread the path that led me towards a perpetual feeling of dissatisfaction and no self worth. I feel like I keep having to remind myself I’m still talented and skilled even if I’m not operating at the level of others. I’m done with all of it, or at least giving myself a break. Some time to redefine myself to myself. If I really hate who I am so much, why don’t I just change it. We can only change the future. So I’ve been deciding what parts of myself I want to kill or just let die off through attention starvation. I’m done being my worst enemy. I want to support myself with whatever I do. I want to accept that things take time to accomplish. Im frustrated by the fact that nothing feels done. But the only way to solve that is to do, and the only way to do is not by criticizing myself for not doing. I love taking life seriously. I’ve been afraid of giving up the part of myself that is so critical because I worry that could lead me to accepting mediocrity from myself. I need to trust the process and give myself the tools to grow into who I want to become even if I don’t really know what that looks like anymore. I know a lot of things I don’t want tho. I don’t want to lie to myself. I don’t want to leave things for future me to solve, I want to take responsibility for all of my actions and decisions and habits. I want to change the ones that I think need to change. Because ultimately I want to be happy. I want to live a life I love. I want to figure out how to become someone who can do that. I think through taking the right actions and catching myself when I begin a negative spiral I can do it. I need to stop giving into the habit of self pity and depression, I need to train myself out of these and hopefully through getting out of them enough I can actually enjoy my life.

I really want to become ok on my own. In my own mind. I’m trying to take a break from all substances because I want to know I can walk without crutches. I don’t need alcohol to socialize, I don’t need weed to let my mind wander. I want to get rid of the hand that goes to grab these things whenever she’s afraid. By facing my fears I will show myself that I can, that I’m strong, that I can make it through hard times without support.

I want to be so ok on my own. I want to be less reliant on external validation. I want to be ok regardless of the external. Which requires self trust. Believing in myself & my ability to handle any situation. Which needs to be built.

I think I’m too comfortable with negative mind spaces. I was drawn to startups because the promise of suffering but it’s really only nice when it comes from outside and you get to be the hero that defeats the dragon. When you are the dragon and you need to slay yourself you feel empty afterward. Like you lost a piece of yourself. You know you did the right thing, the dragon was destroying everything, but you still miss her a little bit.

I’ve semi-agreed to a celibacy vow, I am not sure if I will stick to it but I feel happier not having sex with the vow than without it lol. Volcel>incel. I haven’t had real intimacy or connection and don’t see it happening soon & having sex without that isn’t that rewarding to me. I miss being in love. I think I want to save it for when I’ve built a connection with someone, so it can mean more to both of us. So I’m going to wait to have sex until I’m in a monogamous relationship with someone I adore. I want to be comfortable with that taking a while. I need a break. Sex is fun but I’ve been having junk food sex & I don’t miss it.

I want to find the path that leads to my most prosperous self. I think she’s in here somewhere & just needs the right conditions to show up. I’ve felt so much defeat, have had so many escapist fantasies, and have been taking each moment by moment, because the future fills me with anxiety.

I wish there were things I was looking forward to. I vaguely look forward to creating a family, writing and creating, designing and architecting, but nothing is concrete. The world is worth staying in, and my light is worth kindling. She was a raging fire. Slow and steady is the motto now. One foot in front of the other. Steady and consistent growth is how I solved my sleep and health habits.

There’s a part of self development that feels hollow. Because I feel like everything is under my control. I can cut out anything from my diet whenever I want to, I can decide to stick to rules, the fact that I can makes it feel less rewarding, so I worry that I invent struggle where it doesn’t exist because I want the reward of the feeling of growth. Because growth doesn’t feel like anything. Because it’s slow. A week is 2% of a year. Habits take months to build, applications can take years, skills take decades. I’ve done so much so fast so the feeling of sprinting compared to steady growth makes me feel like I’m not moving at all.

It’s sad to admit that the happiness in the present that I so desperately seek is available to me any moment I choose.

It’s sad to admit that I can just become the person I want to be and it won’t feel that different at all.

I have been a depressed person because it has brought me comfort, and now finding comfort in the mundane feels lacking.

I love transforming and so I’m grateful to experience this transformation, but I wonder, if I weren’t so addicted to the feeling of constant rapid improvement, maybe I wouldn’t find myself in low places because I would be ok with just being ok. Like maybe I could have decided to be better earlier but it wouldn’t have felt so heroes-journey unless I was beaten to the floor before rising. Idk. This could be unnecessary imagined post rationalization.

I wish things could only get better. And the only enemies I face are outside of me. That’s probably how mentally healthy people feel. Or maybe that leads to plateau. Maybe plateauing is better than crawling into the pits just to feel something. Is anything even different? So hard to say when I’m this zoomed in.

I long for a cozy world that has never really existed for me. I haven’t felt ultimate comfort in a while because my mind has been inhospitable. I take pride in navigating inhospitable environments. But I’m tired. I want to know what being ok feels like. I want to know what not worrying about money feels like. I want to know what not being so self critical feels like. The white flag will remain until my manic juju returns. Probably when I learn the lessons this is teaching me. Or when I get over my cold. I can’t believe a virus had me questioning and destroying my whole identity because I couldn’t accept that I was being “lazy” for two days while I had a cold. I literally became the devil to myself. But also I needed to stop smoking weed and crying about no one loving me and making horrible fantasies in my brain of where my life can go if I fail and if I’m incompetent and unloved forever bc that was mean and we no longer operate from a place of self hatred. Only love. Xoxo ttyl