what do you think of tone indicators in general?
unfortunately my thoughts on tone indicators are somewhat nuanced. fortunately, this is tumblr not twitter, so I can just write out my full thoughts in one post and be as verbose about it as feels necessary.
speaking as an autistic person (and I know there are other autistic people who don't hold this same view, this is just my perspective), I think as an accessibility tool, the extended set tone indicators in current popular use is fundamentally misguided.
the oldest ones, /s for sarcasm and /j for jokes, make sense. their notation isn't the most intuitive thing ("does /s mean sarcastic or serious?") but it's not too difficult to explain what they mean. I've had to spend my whole life learning by brute force what different tones of voice mean and what they change about how I'm supposed to interpret something, so I already know what "read this in a sarcastic voice" and "read this as a joke" are supposed to mean. my existing skills can be translated into the new form without too much effort.
the same thing applies to emoji and emoticons. I know what facial expressions mean, because I had to learn what they mean. figuring out if :) is sincere or not from context is a skill I've already needed to develop. it doesn't come naturally for me, but it's something I already at least somewhat know how to do.
most of the tone indicators in current use uh. don't work like this.
tone indicators like /ref or /nbh don't correspond to specific tones of voice. I don't have a "I'm making a reference" voice or a "I'm not talking about a person who's here" voice that I can picture the sentence being read in. these do not indicate tones, they're purely disambiguators. they clarify what something means without necessarily changing how it would be read out loud.
and on paper, that's fine, right? like, it's theoretically a good thing to take an otherwise ambiguous statement and add something to it that clarifies what you meant by it. the problem is that these non-tone tone indicators are not even remotely self-explanatory. it's up to me, the person who is being clarified to, to know what all these acronyms are supposed to mean, and how they change the way I'm supposed to interpret what something means.
it's, quite literally, a newly-invented second set of social cues that I'm expected to learn separately from the set that I've already spent my whole life figuring out, and it works completely differently.
sure, these rules are (in principle) less arbitrary than the rules of facial expressions and tones of voice and how long you're supposed to wait before it's your turn to speak, but they're also fully artificial and recently invented, which means they're currently in a constant state of flux. tone indicators go in and out of fashion all the time, and the "comprehensive lists" are never helpful.
in theory, I appreciate the idea of people going out of their way to clarify what they mean by potentially ambiguous things they post online. if it worked, that would be a really nice thing to do.
however, sometimes I imagine what the internet would be like without them. what if instead of using /s, the expectation was that if you're sarcastic online there's no guarantee that strangers reading your post will know what you meant? what if instead of inventing more and more acronyms to cover every possible potentially confusing situation, we just... expected one another to speak less ambiguously in the first place?
so, I on paper like the idea of tone indicators. I think it's good that some people are trying to be considerate by being extra clear about what they mean by things. but if tone indicators didn't exist, and people who wanted to be considerate in this way instead just made a point of phrasing things more clearly to begin with, I think that would be vastly preferable to even the most well-implemented tone indicator system.
also /pos sucks because there's something deeply and profoundly wrong for an abbreviation that means "I don't mean this as an insult, don't worry" to be spelled the same way as an acronym that's an insult
Character(s). Xiao, Scaramouche, Kazuha x Reader (Separate, ofc). Mentions of Venti, Heizou, and Aether.
Synopsis. In which they keep on denying for having feelings towards you but then becomes hella possessive and gatekeeping experts when someone shows interest.
Tsundere! Scara and Xiao, as usual, and Shy Kazu bebi.
NOT PROOFREAD, please don’t expect.
Image Source: https://pin.it/2Rcqeh4
He’s just tolerating you.
Or so he says. But Aether always finds it amusing how you can pester Xiao from time to time and get out of it with just a sigh from the golden eyed lad.
Like today, for example.
- As an introvert, powernap at the university’s roof top is like a holy grail for Xiao. He treasures it so much that the moment the bell signifies lunch, he’ll dash out of the room in a heartbeat. His friends know better than to disturb him else they receive some icy words. But somehow, much to Venti’s amusement, Xiao let you crash his solace and talk his ears out on days that you feel like doing so. Pretty privileges. Venti thought, before gushing it out with their friend group.
Heizou tried to make him confess that he is head over heels for you. He just finds it so funny how Xiao keeps denying his very obvious crush on you. Come on, he’s pretty sure that he’s not the only one who notice how Xiao’s sharp eyes keeps drifting back to you every time.
“You don’t look at me like how you look at her!”
“No. It’s just that it hurts my eyes when I see you.”
It’s the talk of the group for like a week. How they would see Xiao being such a gentleman when you’re in the room, his patience longer than they’ve ever seen, and more.
“Just admit it lover boy. You simp for (name)” Scaramouche pointed out. A sinister thought playing in his mind.
- “I told you, I don’t. She’s just much tolerable than the rest of our classmates” The questioned man rolled his eyes, not entertaining the idea because even if he does, he’s a hundred and ten percent sure that you’re not in love with him. “Well, if that’s true, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I go after her?” the indigo haired man piped, only to be met by daggers sent through Xiao’s eyes. Eerie silence filled the room until Scara raised his hands in the air, satisfied smirk decorating his lips, “I’m kidding.” (Much like what he had done in this one.)
This man is so obvious it hurts.
And also, he’s extra mean to you. He wants your attention babe, believe me.
“Hah! I can do that better. You suck.”, “What? Speechless because you’re so in love with me?”
No, it’s the other way around and HE KNOWS IT.
But like, you don’t believe his attitude towards you because his actions say otherwise.
- “You’re an idiot. Acting so high and mighty while being pathetically weak.” And then he proceeds to help you pick up the books that have fallen from your grasp and took the remaining ones on your arms to carry it himself.
- “Heh. You think he’s gonna like you back by helping him out? No way you’re uglyyy” “I don’t like him idiot. I have to do this, so he’ll pay me nice and good” you rolled your eyes and he sighs in relief.
He’s actually pretty close to you since you’re friends since middle school.
Venti and Heizou will call the two of you an old married couple because of the continues bickering. Of which Scara will return with disgusted look because no, He can’t have it get to him because he will lose you if he does.
But his friends know otherwise. They notice how careful the man when it comes to you, how observant he is when you’re involved, etc. And besides, Venti just feels it.
And Venti turns out right (again) when their group passed by two students who are obviously gushing over you and one of them spot Scara.
- “Just confess to (name)! You wouldn’t know until you try.” One of them says, and Scara’s ears perked up at the sound of your name. “But aren’t they like with that scary dude?” cue Venti and Heizou snickering in the background. This resulted to the two met gazes with them. Their knees tremble at the sight of your bestfriend. He’s usually playful eyes now dark and looming, and it’s directed at them.
“Yes,” he started menacing look present in his lovely, porcelain face. “they’re taken by the scary dude.”
The two ended up running and Venti and Heizou needs to be stopped by Aether for them to stop laughing.
“Hey scary dude. I thought you didn’t like her?” Vent teased, and Aether just sighed.
This man is a gentleman you wouldn’t notice anything if you’re not as observant as Heizou.
He smiles so gentle with anyone, he talks with utmost respect, this guy right here is the epitome of prim and proper.
“But he’s always giddy when he’s talking to them” Heizou pointed out to Venti one day, to which the latter ended up agreeing to. Because now that he mentions it, Kazuha really seems so excited talking to you.
His eyes literally sparkles when you’re in the room, and his smiles are wider and brighter than usual when talking to you.
And in addition to that, Kaedehara Kazuha always go out of his way for you.
- “Kazuha?” The man turns to you, a tender smile immediately making its way to decorate his face, “Yes, (name)?”. “I made a (a dish with gourd in it). Would you like some?” And oh, the man will munch on it like it’s his most favorite thing on the whole Teyvat, only it’s not. He hates bitter gourd. But to make you happy? Give it all to him and he’ll eat it with the sweetest smile.
The lad also does everything in his capability to be near you. You need something from the cafeteria? He needs to buy something as well. You suck at this one subject? He’ll offer to teach you. You accidentally have no partner in light stretching for P.E? He, too!
But it seems like this fact hits Venti and Heizou earlier than him, as they can also see clear signs that Kazuha is not aware of his own feelings.
That’s why they took it to their own hands. They must help their friend in need you know! So, they did the most obvious thing one should do,
They asked him.
- “Zuhaa,” Venti piped in as Heizou placed his arms around Kazuha’s shoulder. “We’re wondering, do you perhaps fancy (name)?”. They received a soft chuckle from the lad. A very composed answer left his lips. “(Name) is certainly beautiful and wonderful individual,” he smiles and cleared his throat. Bashful and shy from his words, “But I am afraid I have to say no to you question.” The other two expected this. ALL they’re friends are like this, Kazuha is not the first one, so they know what to do. “Ohh That’s great!” Venti exclaimed, as if excited at the new found information before turning to Heizou, “You can pursue them then!”
Kazuha’s heart almost stopped at his friends’ words, so Heizou like you? Of course, he does. You’re beautiful and kind and gentle, and more. It’s only natural to like you. But he wants you! And words left his lips before he can keep it shut.
“No, they’re mine!”
Awe, the usually composed and collected Kazuha now red and ashamed of what he has done. The back of his hand failing miserably at trying to hide the red hue that painted his face down to his neck.
The other two looked at the outburst of their friend before erupting into laughter.
“Not if you don’t confess soon enough” Heizou said in between laughs and Kazuha sent him a sharp look. Face still beet red.
“Don’t do that again” he warned the other two, now caught up on their antics.
Part 1 Part 3
The F-slur is mentioned here but only mentioned, not used to attack or demean.
“I don’t have a wife. I have… I have a husband.”
Future-Eddie slapped him on the shoulder. “Hell yeah you do.”
“They legalise it? They-” Robin looked over at her future self, her eyes glossy. “W- they can get married?”
“Yeah.” Future-Robin squeezed Steve and Robin closer. “Yeah. They can get married. Just in a couple of places to start but then country-wide.”
Nancy nodded along as though this was all tactical information useful for defeating Vecna. “Is anyone else going to come through?”
Future-Eddie shrugged. “Not sure. I think Robin and I were zapped here because our past and future selves were in the same geographical location when there was a pulse. So, sorry to say, Nance, but you’re definitely not about to pop in.”
“Why? Where am I?”
“Still on a plane back from Alaska last I heard.”
“What on earth was I doing in Alaska?”
“Spy shit.” The two time travellers said in unison.
Nancy uncharacteristically stumbled in surprise. “Spy shit? Seriously?”
“Well, personally I believe you’re an international 007, Agent Wheeler, but most of the rest think it’s just plain old boring investigative journalism.” His future counterpart clearly hadn’t lost any theatricality with time.
In fact it seemed to have gotten worse as he waved his arms around. “You’re like, the top dog at it, dude. Literally so good at it that barely anyone knows your name which you definitely use to your advantage. You’re super cagey on details.
“But this time around, you were in Korea when shit hit the fan. Again, don’t know what you were doing there but I did hear Pyongyang mentioned once so you were only a jump away from Kamchatka when Ellie felt a disturbance in the force so you volunteered to go see if it was the Ruskies again, but no dice. Completely filled in with concrete. We have no idea how you got there so quickly but my money is on spy shit.”
Nancy stared at him open-mouthed as he spoke.
“So… So I do it? I make it? I succeed?”
“More than succeed.”
“And,” Nancy bit her lip, like she didn’t really want to ask the question but she was burning to know nonetheless. “The whole… marriage and kids thing?”
Future-Eddie glanced toward Steve, occupied by Future-Robin who was trying to distract him from the conversation and Eddie’s heart sank.
“Nance, don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t think you ever wanted that. I think you were told to want that, as a woman, but it was never you. You don’t have any kids, you’re not married and I don’t think you ever want to be.”
Nancy looked almost relieved at the information and Eddie was so confused.
He still had a thousand questions firing around his head so he decided to latch onto something mentioned earlier.
Future-Eddie smiled softly. “She’s my youngest.”
Eddie choked on thin air. “Kid?!”
“Your youngest kid is my age?”
“God, dude. Don’t remind me. You’ll make me feel so old.”
“You are old.”
His future self shoved his arm. “Watch it, whippersnapper.”
“Who’re your other kids?”
“Here, let me show you.” He pulled a slab of something out of his pocket before shaking his head and pulling his wallet out instead. “I think a phone would be a bit too much, so we’ll do the wallet.”
Eddie blinked. “Right.” Like he knew whatever the fuck the guy was on about.
Future-Eddie pulled some photos loose and in the pile Eddie caught sight of a hairy muscular thigh and a torso littered in old scars stretched obscenely out on a bed and dressed in black lace before the photo was swiftly snatched out of sight and Future-Eddie stuffed it down his pants.
“Woah, whoops! You don’t need to be seeing that!”
“Eddie!” Future-Robin called, staring at him wide eyed. “Oh my god, you keep that photo in your wallet?!”
“It was an anniversary gift!”
“He’s going to rip you a new asshole once he finds out.”
“God.” Future-Eddie breathed. “I hope so.”
Eddie knew his face must be lobster red. From what he had just seen of his future husband, he was hot, metal as shit with those scars and willing to do things like… that?! He’d hit the damn jackpot.
If only he’d seen his face.
“Moving on!” Future-Eddie called brightly. “My girls.” He held out a photo of three teenagers backstage at some kind of concert. It looked like they were laughing at something that had just happened behind the camera, their backs to the stage. They all looked wildly different from each other.
“They’re older now, obviously, but this photo… It’s my favourite. Rhea, Penny and Cassie." He pointed at each of them respectively
The girl on the left looked to be the oldest, blonde and short with glasses, dressed in oversized flannels and baggy ripped jeans. Her mouth was wide open in what must have been a cackle, nearly bent double with one hand on her sister's shoulder, keeping her balance.
The girl in the middle was taller, her hair was dyed a dark purple colour with two piercings over her black painted lips, dressed in flowing black lace. She had both hands up as if she’d just been hiding behind them, her eyes wide and incredulous, seeming to only really let out a giggle.
The third was a similar height to the girl in the middle, black haired and freckled, dressed in bright pastel colours with a cast on her arm. She was half hiding her face behind her hair, turned towards her sisters but her smile was so wide her eyes all but disappeared.
They all looked so happy together.
He only ever had Wayne and now… well, in the future he has a husband and three daughters (holyshitholyshitholyshit), he’d built a family.
“Pretty unbelievable, right?” Future-Eddie smiled across at him, warm and content.
“Just wait ‘till you find out what he does for work!” Future-Robin shouted at him from up ahead.
Work? Eddie had never had a job before and everything in his future seemed so perfect, maybe this was the downer. God he hoped it wasn’t some corporate bullshit.
“What do you do for work?”
Future-Eddie blushed which was very fucking odd and scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m retired.” He shrugged.
“Eddie. You’re not going to tell him?”
“How can I tell him? Look at him! He’s having the worst week of his life! He’s being hunted by a town full of evangelical nutjobs, you think he’ll believe me if I tell him I have two Grammys and a Tony?!”
“Okay, pause.” Eddie put his hand to his future self’s chest, stopping them both. “I’m gonna need you to run that by me again.”
Because no fuckin’ way, man.
Not a chance it meant what he thought it meant.
Not some little rat goblin from rural Indiana.
Future-Eddie nodded. “Two Grammys and a Tony.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose before scoffing. “Why a Tony?”
“It’s called branching out, dude. Don’t gatekeep, it’s not a good look.”
Future-Robin grimaced from up ahead. “Sorry, he’s sensitive.”
“Yes, I’m sensitive, Rob! Lloyd Webber can suck my dick!” He grumbled and muttered in a way that was clearly supposed to be an imitation, “Not built for writing a broadway musical my asshole.”
“You’re… we’re like, famous?”
Future-Eddie shrugged. “Yeah. Kinda.”
“With two Grammys.”
“We would have more if we didn’t get banned.” He muttered again, clearly not supposed to be overheard.
Eddie just stared. “Dude! How the hell do you get banned from the Grammys?”
Future-Robin faltered in her steps ahead, stuttering in the middle of her answer to Robin about her work as a translator in Geneva.
His future self started to walk again, trying to brush him off. “Uh… You know what? It’s a long story, I don’t think we should-”
Eddie caught up. “No, no. This is my potential future right? I should know, maybe I can avoid it?”
Future-Eddie raised his hand to his jaw again, almost unconsciously, like those words hit him on multiple levels.
“Some things can’t be avoided, I don’t think.” He sighed heavily. “Alright. I got outed. Publicly. It wasn’t pretty. And it wasn’t just me, my husband got outed too. We called a blackmailer's bluff and they followed through.”
Eddie shook his head, disbelieving. “They banned you because you got outed?”
“No… not exactly. Okay, listen. I was in a really dark place at the time and I was so, so angry and you know what we’re like when we’re angry. It was incredibly controversial at the time and still is, kinda. Like a black stain on the band's past but I wouldn’t take it back if I could, you understand me?
“When I wrote it I was feeling super toxic and bitter and I’m not excusing it because it was so personal but the younger generation have picked it up again and they’re seeing it like it was meant to be seen. Like it’s about having to hide and live in fear all the time and how stressful and unfair it is and-”
Eddie sped up his steps just a little so he could look at his future self. “What did you do?”
“I…” Future-Eddie twisted at his wedding band. “I released a song called ‘Faggot’ and it’s exactly as painful as you think.”
Eddie sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Listen, I don’t really know how this whole divergent paths thing will work, how much of my life you will or won’t experience after this. But everything I went through, everything, made me who I am today. It’s going to be really hard and it really fucking sucks sometimes. But it got me my girls. It got me my husband. I wouldn’t give it up for anything, you understand me?”
He looked back down at the ground, contemplating. Even though he’d just heard of some truly awful shit that might happen to him at some point, he couldn’t help agreeing with his future self. He had the girls. They seemed happy. He had a husband and he seemed truly content with him, even if Steve’s shadow was still overhanging. But he didn’t really know that for sure. He wanted to know about who he was married to, even if he didn’t want to know who.
“Tell me about him?”
Future-Eddie’s face split into a wide grin. “I thought you’d never ask. He’s the biggest fucking dork I know. The sweetest guy in the world, kindergarten teacher, little league coach… he sees everything. Self sacrificial streak a mile wide, giving me grey hairs.” He laughed.
“Sounds like a normie.”
“The normiest. It’s adorable.”
“Eddie!” Future-Robin called, waving him over from up ahead. “I need you, c’mere.”
“That’s sweet, baby. But it would never work between us.”
She rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, do you have an off switch?”
Future-Eddie’s grin turned feral. “I-”
“No!” She held up her hand. “Stop. Just come here, fucking hell.”
Eddie watched his own future counterpart practically skip over to the others, throwing his arms around both Robins and Nancy while his mind spun like a record without the needle down.
Fuckin’ time travel, man. What were the odds? But what were the odds of an alternate dimension and demon bats and demon dogs and just general demon fuckery?
And he was fucking married? What the shit. Like he’d pretty much resigned himself to short term secret shameful relationships or quick encounters in whatever club bathroom he ended up at in the city.
Some kind of life of settling down, with kids no less, was not something he’d ever dare believe…
Eddie looked over. Steve was walking beside him, staying remarkably steady despite his wounds.
He smiled at him but it was a little strained at the edges. “You have a husband.”
“I have a husband.”
And it was only really then that it hit him. Those words. Those words felt so… fantastic to say.
It wasn’t just the fact that he’d come out.
It was the fact that the words ‘I have a husband.’ meant that he had a husband. Someone who loved him unconditionally. Someone who stuck with his eccentricities and his trash panda tendencies. His parents were a terrible example for marriage and he knew, he knew that he would never allow himself to end up that way.
So this had to be it.
This had to be real.
“I don’t think I’d mind a husband.”
Eddie stopped dead.
Steve turned to look at him, a small smirk on his face. He strode two steps in front, continuing to walk backwards, keeping pace before placing a finger under Eddie’s chin and pushing his jaw back up. He hadn’t even realised it was hanging open.
“But… but you’re…”
"Yeah, I'm attracted to girls, I can hide if I want to and have an easy life. But boys are an option for me too. Don’t tell me you think I should play it safe because society tells me to. I thought you’d be better than that.” Steve slowed to keep pace with him again, knocking him with his shoulder and the barest hint of that smug smile on his face.
“Wh- I- I am. I am better than that. I’m sorry I just didn’t expect- you don’t-”
“I don’t look queer? Or act queer?”
“No! No, I didn’t mean…”
But he did mean that. He had thought that. And his shit had now been completely rocked because of it.
His jaw had fallen open again, he just realised. He snapped it closed and his mouth felt so fucking dry. “I think you’d make a good husband.”
“Are you asking?” Steve quirked an eyebrow at him and flashed his teeth with a grin.
Jesus H. Christ he was so pretty.
Fucking hell. Was this what it was like to be on the end of the Harrington charm? God, he was in so much trouble now.
And Steve was still grinning at him, like a cocky little bastard. “I don’t think anyone would want me as a husband anyway.”
“I’m sorry, I’m lost. Who the fuck would ever pass you up for a husband?”
Steve shrugged, a little more subdued than he was before. Eddie only barely caught the glance in Nancy’s direction.
“No, I mean I get it. I have a lot of baggage and I feel like these bites aren’t going to just smoothe over. What happens then? What’s my spouse gonna do with me once I don’t have my looks anymore, you know?”
“Fuck your looks man, that’s not why people get married. That’s not why I’d get married.”
“It’s why my parents got married.”
“And you wanna have a marriage like theirs?”
“No! God, no. Never.”
“Exactly. So why do you think you’d allow yourself to get tied down to someone who only cares what you look like?”
“Maybe that’s the only reason they’d have me.” Steve grinned as if what he was saying was just fact. “Like I said, I’ve got baggage.”
Eddie shook his head. “We’ve all got baggage, man. I’m not trying to like, invalidate yours or whatever, but everyone has their shit. Yeah your shit is fucking intense, I mean look around, but that won’t matter to the right person. They might have their own. Might not be alternate dimension time travel shit but could be something similar. Maybe you’ll marry a veteran or a refugee. Or maybe you’ll marry someone who’s never experienced anything worse than a paper cut and when they stub their toe they only say ‘oh dear’. Relationships… marriage is a partnership, their baggage, your baggage, it’s there to be shared. It wouldn’t matter to me. I’ll take on my husbands shit and I’ll marry a man who’ll take on mine too. I know I will. I’m sure of it.”
Steve was staring at him like he had six heads.
After he’d just spilled himself out of his mouth and everything.
But he wasn’t gonna back down.
It’s what he believed in his heart of hearts.
“I just-” Steve started. “I’ve never heard anyone describe it like that.”
“Like what?” To him, it just seemed like common sense.
“Like a partnership. You know like people always say relationships are commitment and dedication and selflessness.”
“Well yeah, they are but it has to go both ways. You can’t have one side putting in all that effort.”
“Partnership.” Steve muttered quietly, considering. “It has to be equal, right?”
“Yeah, now you’re getting it. It has to be equal.”
Steve’s smile was softer now, to go right along with his eyes. “You’re gonna make someone a really good husband one day, Eddie.”
Fuck, wasn’t that just a cupids arrow straight to the heart. And now Steve was looking at him all tender and it was driving him insane.
“You gotta at least cook me a nice dinner first before asking for my hand, there, Stevie.”
Steve shrugged. “Okay. What do you like?”
“Wha- I… What do I like?”
“What do you like to eat?”
His mind was blank. He should really be able to improv his way out of this but his head was completely empty.
“Italian, I guess?”
Steve’s grin almost turned conspiratorial. He reached up and lightly tugged at one of Eddie’s curls. “Fuck, you’re perfect, aren’t you?”
“I’m on the run from the law at the moment, sweetheart.”
“Not for much longer if I have anything to say about it.”
They were interrupted by raised voices ahead of them. There was a brief moment of panic before he and Steve realised it was just the two time travellers bickering loudly as the trees started to thin and houses began to come into view.
“Well, why can’t we remember any of this then?” Future-Robin asked.
“Because it hasn’t happened to us in our past. It’s happening to us in our present. And their present. How can we remember something that hasn’t happened yet? Because it’s happening now. To four different people. Their timeline has already diverged from ours just by us turning up. This isn't our story anymore, it's theirs.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Future-Eddie waved his hand at her. “Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey.”
Future-Robin reached out and swatted him over the head. “You’re such a dork!”
“Hey!” He shoved her. “I only got into sci-fi because of you. Before you I was blissfully existing in a fantasy only realm.”
“Yeah.” She shoved him back. “You’re fucking welcome.”
They kept pushing and prodding at each other before it descended into chaos, devolving into some kind of childish slap war until eventually she had him in a headlock.
“Aaagh, Stevie! Help me!”
Steve just blinked at the two of them, probably trying to figure out how he was supposed to corral two adults who were nearly triple his age.
“So in the future, you and Robin seem to have some kind of… friendship?”
“Friendship?” Future-Eddie squawked. “No friendship here. She’s my soulmate by proxy. My sworn fuckin’ enemy.” From his bent over position he managed to grab her behind the knees and haul her over his shoulder.
“Buckley, my tabletop wife, you know I’m a bard.”
“Would you two shut the fuck up?!” Nancy hissed. “You’re gonna get us eaten.”
Future-Robin was let back onto her feet, quietly.
It was objectively hilarious, watching two grown adults who could technically be their grandparents mutter their apologies as if they’d just been chastised by the school principal.
It was even funnier watching them punch each other in the arm as soon as Nancy’s back was turned.
“We’re here.” Nancy said, staring out at the houses. “C’mon.” Without a backwards glance, she took off running.
“Nan-!” Robin lowered her volume as they all chased after her. “Nancy!”
By the time Eddie and Steve had followed them through the front door, the rest of them were disappearing upstairs.
“Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” Nancy was asking, holding what looked like a diary.
“Would you have believed us? You need to see evidence for yourself, you know that.” His future counterpart answered.
“What did I miss?” Eddie wheezed, placing his hands on his knees.
Fuck, he needed to give up smoking.
“It’s 1983.” Robin answered, patting his back.
“Is this more time-travel fuckery?”
Future Eddie and Robin spoke at the same time.
“The Upside-Down is stuck in 1983. The day Will Byers went missing.” Nancy clarified.
“Right. Okay. 1983. Cool.” Eddie gave a thumbs up, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He glanced around. “Hey, where’s-”
He was abruptly cut off as the entire house around them shook, sending him tumbling back into the hallway. The sounds of photo frames and Nancy’s knick knacks crashing to the ground surrounded him but underneath it all his blood ran cold when he heard a pained shout from downstairs.
“Steve?!” He called out, panicked, trying to get to his feet but being defeated by his own severe lack of athleticism and the incessant shaking of the very earth beneath him.
He crawled towards the stairs, thankful that the shaking had stopped by the time he reached the first step.
He flew down them, nearly landing square on his ass again before catching sight of Steve, leaning heavily up against the wall and clutching his sides.
“Steve! Are you okay?” There were red patches starting to bloom under the makeshift bandages around his waist and he hissed in pain, as Eddie took hold of his arms, pressing his forehead into Eddie’s shoulder.
“I just… I just need a minute.”
There was the sound of something ripping beside him.
“Shit. Things move fast in this timeline, don’t they?”
Eddie turned his head and froze, staring wide eyed at the third figure standing next to them.
Part 1 Part 3
I'm thinking one more part for this auspicious anniversary/time travel fic. I'll update the posts with links and the AO3 link too.
Thanks everyone for your sweet comments and tag requests! Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. 🖤
Tags: @epiclazersharkshark, @estrellami-1, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @addelyin
Not his type
Javier Peña x f!reader
summary: you are helping at Chucho’s ranch and Javier thinks you are still definitely not his type
warnings: as usually SMUT ( vaginal fingering, oral -m!receiving, male masturbation, protected p in v, biting, hair pulling), cursing, soft!Javi - cuz that’s my favorite genre of Javi -, just a smudge of angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of food, fluff
word count: 10.5 k (I like them big I guess *wink wink*)
A/N: I planned to start my Marcus Pike fic but then this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. This is basically just a long friends to lovers fic.
Javier Peña is not a simple man – far from it. He is bitter and hot-headed, and he feels small no matter what he does – he should have done better, he should have been smarter, quicker. He shouldn't have been such an idiot. Maybe then he wouldn’t be now standing in front of his childhood home. Maybe then...
But no matter what Javier thinks of himself he is a good man. He is caring and always wants to do the right thing – even if the consequences of his actions make him look like a bad guy. He doesn’t care – or he does but doesn’t let it show. Doesn’t want people to know that perhaps he is not as strong as he seems. Doesn’t want them to know that he cares – sometimes too deeply. Doesn’t want them to know he might feel – it's better if he seems unapproachable and looks like if you'd touch him, he'd burn you too greatly - so much that you would want to do nothing with him ever again.
So Javier feels the weight of all of his sins drop into his stomach when he keeps standing on the porch of Chucho’s house with a suitcase that he had packed with himself from Bogotá. He wanted to leave all of his old life behind but some memories stay with things that are bound to them.
He feels like a little boy again when he came home crying because lads – older and bigger than him – were picking on him. He feels like the little boy who hid behind the skirts of his dear mama when guests came to visit. That’s why he wants to look so tough, that’s why he is so hard around the edges – he changed, Bogotá changed him so he wouldn’t have to feel that small ever again. But even that didn’t help. Deep inside he is still that little boy. He can hide behind his bravado - his stern scowl and cold gaze- but that fact will never change.
He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there until the door swings open – almost hitting him in the face – and he sees Chucho standing in the doorway. His signature cowboy hat on his head and that old red flannel shirt he bought him on Christmas ages ago seems a little tighter around his middle than he'd last seen him in it. He is older – slower, the age showing on his face. But when he smiles as he sees Javier in front of him he looks 30 years younger.
Javier looks a lot like his pops – he has the same nose that he hated when he was younger – and pops had the same colored dark hair once that curls if it gets too long. They have the same dimple on the left side of their face if they smile too hard and like his pops, Javier could never really grow a proper beard.
Pops hugs him as if he hadn't seen him in ages – and to be honest, that is true. Work and life always got in the way and he regrets all the time he missed with him. He also didn’t want to come home – his mother’s things were still everywhere in the house. Her pictures, the warms blankets - that Javier loved to wrap around himself on the colder nights in Laredo - scattered on the armchairs and couch. He didn’t want to see Pops sad and so he stayed behind in Bogotá drowning in work, booze and women. The Peña men had different ways of grieving. Chucho never said anything to Javi though – he didn’t blame him for not coming, didn’t yell at him for letting him be alone on holidays – and he should have. He should do all those things because maybe then Javier wouldn’t feel like such a bad son.
When they part Chucho smiles – he didn’t smile a whole lot after Javi's mom died. “It's good to see you, Javier.” He pats him on the back – a little clumsily, Javier notices but he puts a tight smile on his face. He missed a whole lot.
“You too, pops. How have you been?” It’s a question he knows the answer to. He always answers the same – busy. After the death of his wife Pops seemed to spend most of his day outside working on a ranch. Barely coming home to eat or drink. Wanted to occupy his mind. “Seems like you started actually eating as I said.” Pops waves his hand back at him.
“You calling me fat, mijo?” Javier opens his mouth to answer but Pops beat him to it, his belly shaking a little with laughter. “Someone has been helping me out for a while now. Cooking and cleaning the house once in a while.” Javier quirks an eyebrow at this and he pushes the small suitcase as he enters – now his home, too. It didn’t change here in the slightest. Pops throws him a look above his shoulder as he looks him up and down quickly. “Seems like you have been skipping out on meals, my boy. Come, Bee is here and the lunch should be already done. She made Pozole de Pollo o Guajolote. Your mother's recipe.” Javi stands straighter at the nickname. Surely he didn’t mean...
The delicious smell coming from the kitchen makes his stomach rumble and he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He abandons the suitcase in the hallway after he takes off his boots and jacket that he puts on the old wooden hanger for coats he made with Pops when he was around 12 –its asymmetrical and weird-looking seeming like it was made by a child – which it was but it’s a memory Javier is very fond of.
The floors creak under Javier's quick footsteps and he stops in the doorway as he watches you fuss around his dad. His entire body softens, the crease in his forehead disappearing as he sees you in the Peña kitchen. The past coming into the present. Prepping the silverware on the table that lays in the middle of the smaller kitchen. He sees that Pops kept everything in place like it was even before the death of Javi's mother. He missed this place. Even though bittersweet memories crawl out on the surface of his mind and his heart aches like it hadn’t in a really long time.
“Seems like you are a busy bee, Bee.” Javier smirks when you look up at him. You didn’t really change after the last time he had seen you. Sure, you aged – as has he – but you still kept your spark from all those years ago. You smile fondly – and a little unsure – at him as you quickly wipe your hands on the apron wrapped around your middle. And Javier notices - of course, he does. The hesitation in your step when you walk to him. The little twitch of your lips you make when you are nervous.
He is an observant man. He watches and analyzes. And he is good at it too - you squirm under his intense gaze. As if he could see every little part of your soul, even the deepest secrets you kept hidden somewhere back down inside of you. That’s why he is such a good agent. Was, at least. His dark eyes shift to your cleavage just for a second. You don’t notice - his eyes quickly scanning you up and down.
He looks good. Even better than the last time you saw him. The mustache he grew suits him. His hair is longer than he had when he went to high school with you. He is broader and seems even taller. He is a man now, not the little boy you played hide and seek with. He still wears the same smirk on his lips though - that kind of smirk that meant trouble when you two were younger. His jeans hug him in just all the right places and the black shirt he is wearing makes him somehow look even hotter. All man.
“You know me. Never could keep still.”
And he does. He does know you. Or at least he did - when you two were just young kids, then stupid teenagers and suddenly - strangers too. You grew up at the Peña dinner table as much as your own. Your mothers were great friends, your fathers old buddies. You had a farm right next to them which you eventually sold when your folks passed away and it was just too much work for only you alone. You bought a small house with the money you received.
Javier still remembers when he first saw you – all toothy grin and two braids sitting on top of your head. You wore that stupid flowy dress in an ugly mustard color. You were more of the outgoing type and Javier – to everyone's surprise – was more of the lonely kid. He was smaller than his peers – smaller than you even, when you first met him. And he doesn’t remember why you started talking to him and wanted to become his friend but he didn’t complain at that time. You visited him almost every single day – looking for mischief all around. Broken glasses and bones were nothing new to both of you. The two of you were inseparable – until high school. Javier – for once in his life, thanks to you - didn’t feel so small anymore. He grew up to be a handsome and smart, confident and funny, pretty charming and self-assured young man. Girls started noticing him and he loved the attention – when their heads turned around to look. They thought he never noticed. But alas, Javier was an observant boy even back then and he noticed – his cockiness getting on your nerves sometimes. He never wanted to feel small again.
And like almost every girl – you developed a huge crush on him. But it wasn’t because he was tall and cocky, no. It was simply because you knew the real Javier – your Javi. Who hated being alone and who hated going to the church every Sunday – hiding in the dusty, covered in spider webs attic. He never noticed you – like he noticed the other girls. He never gave you that loop-sided grin or the puppy heart-filled eyes. You were just great friends - even when you wished for more. And one day you weren't even that.
You should have seen it coming, really. With Javier becoming popular, he started hanging out with you less and less. When you came to Peña's household he was already out with his new friends. And you always came running to him like a pathetic little puppy who comes to his owner no matter how many times they kick him. His friends laughed at you. And later on, he started laughing with them. He got a girlfriend – Lorraine, the sweet and perfect Lorraine – before you two stopped talking. The old memory still stings when you think about it.
It happened on one of those super warm summer nights in Laredo. You wore one of your favorite dresses. It hugged your curves and you thought you look absolutely beautiful in it – your mother said so too. You asked Javi if you could meet up at your spot – the old scrap yard just a couple minutes' walk from both of your houses. When you arrived there your stomach dropped to your feet – his friends sitting with him on your favorite car that was reserved for only you and Javi. Laughing and drinking booze, the atmosphere lose. But you didn’t feel lose – your muscles taunt and all you wanted to do was just turn on your heels and leave. Cry about this stupid little crush you had on this stupid Texas boy. But Javier spotted you before you could do so – somehow he could always spot you even in the biggest of crowds.
“Bee! Come and join us!” He yelled, one of his hands shooting into the air as he held an unopened can of beer. And with his other hand...he was holding Lorraine. They were close to each other – her almost sitting on his lap as she placed kisses on the column of his throat. You swallowed the ball of anxiety that was building in your throat as you heard them whisper: “Why did you call her, man?” He didn’t answer as he smiled at you. Lorraine's eyes squint at you in annoyance.
Clearing your throat you asked: “Javi, can we talk?” He just shrugged his shoulders as he hopped off from the roof of the car mumbling a quick “sure”. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt – you noticed just then. The sun was slowly setting and his golden skin shined. The butterflies in your belly made you want to go home and squeal into your pillow. You gulped and a few of his friends whistled – noticing the once-over you gave him.
“Someone has an admirer here, Peña. Too bad she is so fat and ugly! Like a pig – oink oink!” All of them burst into laughter and to your surprise – so did Javier. He laughed straight into your face and you fought the tears in your eyes to not spill as you finally turned on your heel – as you should have done much sooner – and left. You didn’t see the remorseful look in his eyes and the way his muscle twitched, his mind screaming at him to go after you. He never wanted to feel small ever again and his friends said you were a loser – people like him shouldn’t talk to people like you. He didn´t want to be loser again.
Lorraine pulls him by the shoulder back to her – her tongue plunging into his mouth and when they pull apart she grins, the long nails of hers scraping across his golden-tanned chest.
“Forget about her, Javi. You don’t need her.” He nods – unsure – but he doesn’t have time to think about it too much as her tongue fought with his once more – the heavy taste of beer on her tongue filling all of his senses.
After that, you stop talking to Javier. You still come to his house - with your mama - but you don’t greet him anymore and he is pretty sure you told your and his mother as well, as they always throw him a dirty look whenever he is in the same room as you. You don’t look at him and you don’t acknowledge his presence anymore. He hates that he feels so small again even though he doesn’t have a reason to. He has friends and a girlfriend, and all the girls throw themselves at him. So why does his stomach pull tight anytime he is near you, why does he feel like he lost peace of himself?
One day he decides he has had enough. Both of your mothers went outside to catch the last rays of the sun and you are alone in the kitchen – baking your famous apple pie. He sneaks behind you and cages you in. You feel his breath on your neck, the slow raise and fall of his chest. You turn around – your noses almost touching – and he sees the hot fury in your eyes. You are covered in flour and Javier thinks – just for a split second - he had never seen you look so fucking beautiful. His gaze lingers on your mouth maybe a little too long because he sees you are talking – your mouth opening and closing.
“What do you want, Javier?” You ask and he had never heard you so annoyed, so drained. You didn’t look like yourself anymore and didn’t sound like it too.
“Us to start talking again, Bee.” Because Javier is selfish and he takes and takes. Sometimes forgetting to give something back in return. He widens his eyes when he feels the sting on one of his cheeks – his head moving to one side with the force of it. You slapped him. He looks at you – you are all wide eyes and snarling teeth.
“Fuck you, Peña.” You quickly try to scramble away from him because you feel like crying again. No because of sadness – no. That sadness turned into raw fury after the incident at the scrap yard. Because of how idiotic and stupid he is. And because – no matter what he had done and told you – you can’t seem to shake off the crush you have on him. He grits his teeth and his hand grabs your wrist. Both of your breathing erratic.
“It's not my fault you are not my type, Bee.” He didn’t mean to say that - the words coming from his mouth sound foreign to him. Not right. But his hot temper gets the best of him and the way he said and what he said should not hurt that much. But it does. It feels like he had just stabbed you in the heart and then twisted the knife – deeper and deeper.
You yank away from his grip and you point a finger at him – your hand shaking with the hurt, anger, sadness, Everything coming at you in waves - it feels so fucking overwhelming. You want to scream at him, kick him, hurt him as much as he had hurt you. But what good would it do? None.
You exhale shakily and Javier waits for the fight but it doesn’t come. You shrink into yourself and turn to leave. You look at him above your shoulder as you whisper. “I hate you so fucking much, Javier Peña.” And you are gone.
The heavy weight of your words lingers in the air and he feels the hot tears running down the apple of his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away. His ears are ringing and he doesn’t hear your mother yelling at you about what happened. He doesn’t smell your apple pie burning in the oven. He fucked up. Because he will never get to talk to you again or feel your touch. He will never hear you laugh and he will never get to comfort you again when you cry. Because the only source of your sorrow is him – the stupid Texas boy you now despised.
Javier comes to present and you give him a quick side hug telling him to sit down. Chucho watches both of you and he prays that you are both wise enough now to sort out this little grudge you have. But you are also both too stubborn and the dinner passes in silence. The only sound is the clinking of silverware cutting through the thick air and sometimes Chucho quips in to ask Javier about Colombia - Javier doesn’t want to talk about that, though. So he stays quiet as he chews - the food tastes exactly like his mother’s.
When Javier sneaks a quick look at you he thinks that maybe he wasn’t such an idiot. The bitterness from your last talk makes his face twist. He hates how - even after all these years - you seem to not acknowledge him even though you try to stay as polite towards him as possible. As if you just look through him and not at him. He watches as you pass his pops a salt and you grin at something he says.
And yeah, you are still definitely not his type.
Javier sees you almost every day. It drives him fucking crazy. The way you just nod at him when he passes by or is in the same room as you – which is mostly kitchen -, the way you don’t answer his questions about you. How have you been, what did you do after high school? He only knows your folks passed away shortly after he left for Colombia – Chucho told him over the phone. Your parents felt like second ones to him. He wanted to call you after Chucho told him, he really did. But he didn’t know your number – that was just an excuse, he knows that and he also knows Chucho would have given it to him if he asked. He feared that you would hang up on him, that if he heard your broken voice he would book the closest flight to come to you. After all – you were best friends a long time ago.
Javier wants to know everything about you – but you give him nothing. You are just a big complicated riddle to him and he has no hints to figure you out. He notices you though and the things you still do. You still enjoy watching sunsets as you did when you were younger. And that you talk to plants when you water them or that you still secretly go and feed horses a few sugar cubes even though you really shouldn’t. That you still hum when you cook and squint your eyes on either him or Chucho when they enter the kitchen because you don’t like when somebody disturbs you while you are in you’re your element. You always liked to bake and cook – often sneaking into the kitchen with him late at night because he wanted cookies and you gave in and baked them. Because he asked you to and said please – Javier never said please often and that habit he kept.
So because you don’t seem happy when he wants to talk to you or occupies the same room – you actually don’t seem happy with his presence in general and that makes his heart tighten even if he doesn’t understand why – he spends most of his day tending to the ranch. Feeding the animals and fixing the old barn. Today he started fixing the old fence that didn’t even look like a fence at all anymore. He grunts as he stands up – he is getting old and his back is fucking killing him. The Texas sun makes him sweat, he smells and he feels thirsty – has felt thirsty for a while now. But he knows it's afternoon and you are probably in the house cooking. He contemplates it – he doesn’t want to see you uncomfortable around his sheer presence but fuck. He feels like he could drink a whole gallon of water. Fuck it, he thinks as his steps lead him to the Pena house. You knew he was coming back home – if you didn’t want to stick with him, you wouldn’t.
When he is finally inside and the sun doesn’t burn his face, he takes off his yellow aviators and the thick working gloves. He is covered in sweat and dirt and as he enters the kitchen you think he never looked better. But he always does in your eyes and you hate yourself for it. You gulp and turn your back to him as you try to quickly scribble the things you need to get at the farmers market today. Your body stiffens when he walks behind you – his shirt brushes against your shoulders - and grabs one of those old funny-looking glasses you painted together when you were probably around 9. The air thickens and the atmosphere is awkward – you both want to say something but nothing comes out of your mouths. Finally, Chucho enters and he looks at Javi and then back at you.
“Go shower, mijo. You are going with Bee today.” It's an order and Javi doesn’t want to argue. His house, his rules. Quite the opposite – maybe the change of setting will finally let you loosen up and you will talk to him. He wants to say to you so much. He looks at you and you gape at Chucho as he throws you a pointed look. You swiftly shut your mouth – Javier taking the steps by two as he wants to scrub himself squeaky clean as soon as possible. He feels positively giddy – it reminds him of the times when he got his first car and drove around Laredo with you.
When he comes down the hushed conversation between you and Chucho comes to a halt and he looks between you two before Chucho almost pushes you out of the house. You drag your feet behind you and the giddiness he felt leaves him as he sees your “enthusiasm”. He wants to go and hide in the nearest hole, lick the wounds he pretends he doesn’t have but you are already sitting in the passenger seat by the time he gets his head out of the gutter.
The ride is awkward, filled with silence and you squirm every once in a while in your seat. You glance at Javier's profile a few times – his strong jawline and his aquiline nose. You stare at his hands and how come they are so big? The veins are prominent on the back of them - leading to the thick fingers, nails trimmed neatly. His hair is longer now after a few weeks already spend at home. He looks better than when he arrived. Now he didn’t look as...tired. And as skinny – he always devours the meals you cook and you can see him filling up around the middle. His arms were much stronger and more muscular than before because of all the work he did on the ranch. Domesticity looks good on him. You watch as he grips the wheel and see his jaw tick before he sighs.
“I am sorry, Bee.” You raise your brows at him when he glances to see your reaction to his words. He never was good with them “actions speak louder than words” he always said. “I am sorry for what I said and how I treated you during high school. I was a fucking idiot and if I could take it all back-”
“You were.” It's a simple phrase, your words coming out fast and he grips the steering wheel tighter when your hand lands on his thigh. “But that’s all I ever wanted to hear, Javier. Yes, your words and actions hurt me in the past. And they still hurt me now when I think about them. But there's nothing we can do about it now. We were kids and if it didn’t happen I don’t think I would become the person I am now so I accept your apology even if it could have been a better one. You should really work on your people skills.” You shrug your shoulders as you tease him and the hand that was resting on his thigh moves into your lap once again. He wants to tell you you could have kept it there – it felt too fucking good even if it was such a simple and innocent touch. It grounded him and Javier is touch deprived.
“So, that’s it?” He asks, his tongue poking out to lick his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows while he watches the road.
“Yes, that’s it.”
The conversation flows smoothly after that and Javier can't believe it was that easy. If he apologized much sooner he could have been talking to you for weeks now. He missed this – your talks. You talked with your hands a lot and he enjoys how expressive you are when you are telling something. He learns a lot about you. You own a little bakery here - that’s why you are so flexible and can come almost anytime to the ranch. He feels proud of you – your dream was always to open a small bakery somewhere. At least one of us could make their dream come true.
You laugh and talk, and tell stupid jokes or occurrences that happened in your life. He missed a whole lot and so have you. Your favorite story of his is when he told about the time his neighbor – an old lady – saw him butt naked because the woman he slept with locked him out of his own apartment after he told her he wanted nothing serious. His neighbor called him over to have some fun which he politely declined. You double over laughing and Javi grins, his cheeks hurting. He missed your laugh – he didn’t feel this comfortable ever since...well ever since you stopped talking.
The ride passes quickly and when you step out of the car you come around – grabbing Javis's hand as you mumble something about “want to show you around here, Javi, so much changed after you left” as you throw him a quick grin. He can only concentrate on your nimble fingers between his and how it feels so fucking right before you are dragging him behind you.
You are not his type he has to remind himself as he squeezes your hand tightly.
Javier comes into the house all muddy once again. It has been raining in Laredo for the past few days - the land all soaked soil and dirt. He takes of his boots before he enters. His nose drags him into the kitchen as he catches the smell of pie. Sweet and delicious - or was it just you, standing here all soft and pretty? He can't tell anymore. These past few weeks were filled with nothing but joy – almost. You played cards with him and Chucho late at night, drinking beer and listening to Chucho's stories. Sometimes you went riding with him on the ranch. Your love for horses didn’t die out and you always were natural with them. You have your favorite one too – the small chestnut-colored mare with a fiery temperament that seems to tolerate only you. Chuho wanted to sell her a long time ago but you begged him on your knees – literally – not to. His eyes softened and he agreed reluctantly – he could never say no to you. Something both Peña men had in common.
Anytime Javier looks at you he feels his stomach tighten with something – sometimes arousal but he blames that on the lack of sex, sometimes on something entirely else. He tries to push it deep inside him but whenever he catches your smell his head gets all dizzy and he has the need to find you and talk to you, be near you He hates it. He hates it so fucking much. He doesn’t know what you did to him. He can't seem to shake you out of his mind. He thinks of you anytime he sees the sun setting down or the last time he picked violets for you as he saw them growing a few miles away from the ranch. Because you love violets. He gave them to you with a darker shade of red covering his ears as he scratched his neck. You thanked him and kissed him on the cheek then – his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse quickening and his lower half seemed all too interested in the skin-to-skin contact. As your lips lingered on his cheek as he thought about against what other parts of him would they feel so soft.
Javi leans against the doorframe as he watches you knead the dough – one of the pies already in the oven. You look so nice in your overalls. He could just bend you over the kitchen counter and -
Shut the fuck up, Peña. Don’t even think about getting hard.
You startle when you turn around and see him, your dough-covered hand flying to your chest as you yelp. “Javier Peña, don’t scare me like that!” You scowl at him, your lip pursed and he grins – his hands shooting into the air in a silent apology.
“Didn't mean to, Bee.” The corner of his lips pulls up as you murmur “sure you didn’t" and turn back around to put more flour in the dough. He quickly washes his hands in the sink and comes behind you – he inhales your scent and closes his eyes. The hair on your neck stands up. “You smell so fucking good.” It's a quiet statement. You look at him wide-eyed and he gives you a confused look in return.
“What did you say?” Your throat pulls tighter. Shit, shit, shit.
“Uh-um, that if you'd show me how you knead the dough.” He closes his eyes – idiot, idiot. You breathe out a small “oh” and shake the shock off of you as you nod and come behind him as you grab his hands in yours.
And fuck, Javier thinks his pulse went from zero to a hundred in this second. His heart feels like it will jump out of his chest any second. Your small hands on his makes him think back to a few weeks ago.
You stayed at Peñas that night. You always drove back home but that night it was raining a lot and it was too late anyways. You agreed as Chucho asked you if you wanted to stay – they had a smaller spare room right next to Javis. You bid them both good night and fell asleep quickly after that. You were exhausted but a scream woke you up and you swiftly stood up on your feet and scrambled into Javier's room. He sat on the bed – all sweaty, his breath quick as his head rested in his palms. He looked up at you when the old wooden floor creaked under your footsteps. He cleared his throat and tried to hide from you. You crouched in front of him and offered him a little smile.
“You don’t have to hide from me, Javi.” And then he was pulling you into him, breathing you in, his hands pulled around you tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder. He was exhausted of pretending everything was fine. The weight of all the things that he did in Colombia came crashing down on him. You just shushed him as he listened to your heartbeat – his head on your chest, your hand in his as you stroked the back of it. When he finally calmed down he told you everything – the things he did, the things he should have done and the things he shouldn’t have. He told you about Los Pepes and Carilo, and the nightmares that still haunted him.
“I am just a shell of a man I once was, Bee.” He whispered into the night and you grabbed both sides of his face as you frowned at him.
“You are far more than that, Javi.” He wanted to kiss you right there and then but you pulled him on your chest again and he breathed you in once more. The slow rise and fall of your chest lulls him to sleep. He never slept that well in his life.
When he woke up the other side of the bed was cold but the smell of you – like an apple pie – lingered on the other pillow and he wanted to drown in it. He stroked himself at the thought of you as he smelled the pillow. Your soft hands and the feel of your breasts against his face, the small brush of your lips against his forehead. He came embarrassingly quickly and couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for a few days after that. Neither of you talked about that night. As if it never happened.
So now he curses himself as he feels how he twitches in his pants – the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against his back. The collar of his shirt is a bit too tight as well as his pants. For fucks sake, Peña. He hasn’t slept with anyone since he came back home and it showed. You don’t seem to notice though.
“You are pretty clumsy with your hands, Javier.” He chokes on seemingly nothing and almost pushes you onto the ground as he stumbles a few steps back. Let me show you how good with my hands I can be -
“Gotta take a shower.” He says and he takes the steps by two - almost falling over. He closes the door of the bathroom with little more force than necessary. He scrambles with his closes almost ripping them from him and he grabs his aching cock – tugging on it firmly as a spurt of precum shoots out of the head. He steps into the shower – the spray of cold water not helping him calm down his hammering heart or the way his skin seems to be on fire. He strokes himself quickly – the strokes measured as he thinks of your pretty lips around him or that pretty pussy you sure have. He thinks of the swell of your breast on his back, your breath on the back of his neck, your hand in his, your pretty smile and kind eyes. He thinks about how you would feel around him if he pounded into you from behind or what sounds would you make when he would go down on you. How wet would you be? Are you the quiet type or would he have to put his fingers – or something else – in your mouth to shut you up?
He grunts and his forehead bumps onto the cold tiles of the shower as he cums. He watches how the water downs his spend and he tries to wash the guilt he feels off of him too.
You are not his type, he thinks as he tugs on his cock for the final time.
You are going on a date. Javier watches with a frown on his face as you fumble around to finish the dinner. You are wearing a pretty dress – a light green one with a flowy skirt that exposes the whole expanse of your back. The strings on your shoulder are the only thing keeping it in place. You look absolutely incredible. He didn’t want you to go. Fuck, what if the guy was some kind of psycho? Or worse, what if he was actually a decent guy and you'd stop helping Chucho because you would be too occupied with your new little boy toy? What would Chucho do without you – yes, Chucho of course, not Javier. Javier wasn’t jealous and he definitely wasn’t praying that your date would end up in disaster...Okay, he felt jealous. Like “I will rip that guy in shreds” type of jealous.
And Javier would be alone tonight – Chucho left in the morning to visit his “friend” - he knows he went to Mária living across from the barber's shop. He didn’t say anythimg – the lie falling out of Chucho’s lips easily. And he felt happy for him – him moving on meant he was healing. Slowly but healing. Javi wanted to do something nice for you two tonight– the store-bought cheesecake lying in the fridge. He thought that you could watch TV today – watch anything you wanted. Maybe then he would slip his hand under the hem of your dress and he would -
“Javi!” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks a few times. You even put on makeup – the red lipstick making your lips look downright edible and he licks his own lips. He could pull you in and make you forget about your silly little date. But for once in his life Javier didn’t want to be greedy when it came down to you – you seemed so excited when you told him you had a date and he planted on the best fake smile on his face he could muster. Even though he felt sick to his stomach when you told him, his fingers twitching to catch your wrist and pull you close – to tell you you should fuck that guy and stay with him tonight. “You listening?”
“Sorry, what did you say?” You groan in annoyance – already running late – and you grab him by the collar – oh, he likes this a lot. You are so fucking close he feels your breath fan across his face.
“Listen, Javi. I don’t have time for this. The Chiles Rellenos are in the oven so they won't get cold as quickly. If it gets cold just put it in the microwave.” he nods – he knows this, of course – but wants to keep you busy because maybe then your date would cancel – no, he can't.
“Okay.” He says slowly and you let go of the collar of his shirt – just now noticing you grabbed him by it. You pull away from him. “If anything-”
“I call you. You already told me. Don’t worry, dad. I'll be fine.” You grin and turn on your heel waving a quick goodbye before the doors shut behind you. Javier gulps the growing ball in his throat and curses at himself. Idiota. But you know - of course you are not his type.
Javier watches the starry sky tonight. The cheesecake forgotten in the fridge alongside your dinner – he felt so sick to his stomach he was pretty sure he'd throw up if he ate anything. The warm blanket his mother knitted lays heavy on his shoulder as he looks at the sky – millions of stars showing tonight. You'd love to see it – maybe you already are. Star-watching sounds like the kind of date you would have loved. He fiddles with the handle of his mug filled with hot cocoa in his lap and thinks. About how he got here, about his fuck ups – and the biggest fuck up he has ever done was to let you go on that stupid date, he concludes. Okay, maybe not the biggest fuck up but close enough. He straightens up when he spots a car pulling into the driveway – your car. A small grin makes its way onto his lips until he sees your sagged shoulders and the slow way you drag your heels behind you.
“You have room for another in there?” You ask – your voice small compared to when you left. Pointing a finger at the spot next to him. He nods quickly and when you sit he immediately wraps the blanket around your shoulders – your head resting on his shoulder. It's quiet for a while as he offers you his mug and you drink from it leisurely. He knows you will tell him what happened if you want to. The silence is not awkward – it’s a comfortable one. He always feels comfortable with you. You pull away from him and put the mug on the ground – pulling your knees close to your chin.
“Can I ask you something?” You look at him from the corner of your eye, your words muffled by your knees.
“Anything, Bee.” And he means that. You could ask him anything in the world and he would answer you no matter what question.
“Why am I not your type? You know, cuz it seems I am no one's type.” He knows you are referring to the time when he was angry at you after you slapped him. But he didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t know how to answer – his tongue heavy all of the sudden and fuck, why is so hard to just tell you.
Rather than answering you he twists his torso so he can look at you – really look at you. The moonlight shines on half of your face and how did he never notice how pretty your eyes were? Or your plush lips, your soft hair? He gulps as he reaches forward tentatively – his palm resting on the side of your face now. And he expects you to pull away – to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t. His throat is dry and he feels like his lungs can't seem to have enough oxygen in them because his brain seems to stop functioning too. He brushes his fingertips across your cheek and you would have never expected that Javier Peña could be so gentle with his touch. He looks at your lips – your mouth open just a tiny bit and he sees your Adam's apple bob. Do you want this as much as he does? Or is he imagining things and projecting his own fucked up desires and feelings onto you at this very moment? He doesn’t have much time to think about it before your fingers tangle into his hair at the back of his head, his breath picks up and your mouth surges forward – your lips meeting his.
He feels like fireworks just exploded in his stomach. His skin tingles and his hands brush against the front of your dress. Your hand on his nape makes him groan into you and he brushes your collarbone with his calloused hand. He wanted this for so long and he didn’t even know about it. The other grabs you by the neck and pulls you even closer – the blanket falling off of you two when you swing your legs on either side of his narrow hips. He presses his lips against yours with more force and he is confident and greedy with it. He curls his hand around your waist and his fingertips dig into your hip while the other hand presses into your shoulder blades. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins and he is warm and fuzzy all over – his body humming with something he never felt before.
You were never kissed this way before – Javier takes, and takes but gives back even more in return. The kiss is impatient and hungry – like he waited for this all of his life. His hands on your skin make you hum out in pleasure and you trail your hand to his jaw – you can feel the stumble he has under your fingertips. You open your mouth to him and the hand on your hip squeezes you tighter, and he wants you closer, closer – this is not enough. Not close enough. And you feel the same as you pull him closer by the collar and he groans into your mouth. You can taste the warm cocoa on his tongue and his smell invades all your senses – cigarettes, his cologne and something entirely him. Musky and sweet. Your cheeks burn and your palms are sweaty when he pulls away from the kiss – his hands brushing along the exposed skin on your back, his thumb circling your hip. His forehead rests on yours as he tries to calm down and your nails scrape across his exposed chest – he always has a few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt and it drives you insane. He moans when he feels the sensation of your nails on his skin – his hips bucking up to meet yours and you mewl as you feel the bulge press up against your core.
“Fuck, Bee. I want to fuck you so badly. Do you want that too? Tell me. Tell me, please.” Javier Peña said please. He never says please. Yoou nod furiously as you peck him on the lips – his mouth surges to meet yours once again and you lap at his lower lip, your hands fisting into the material of his shirt.
“Wanted this since I was 16 and crazy in love with you, Javi.” You whisper against his lips and your confession makes his heart beat with joy. You loved him. He grips the flesh on your hips and mumbles a breathy “okay” before he stands up and carries you with him – your legs wrap around his middle. He stumbles a few times and almost trips on the stairs as he keeps kissing you – his tongue nibbling at your collarbones, his hands supporting your weight as he holds you by the back of your thighs.
When you arrive in his room he throws you on the bed and starts to quickly undress. His fingers shake and he can't seem to unbutton the fucking shirt. Fuck. He stands in front of the edge of the bed and you sit on your elbows – your gaze heavy with lust. As you see him struggling you crawl onto the edge of the bed and loop your fingers between his belt. He stops and looks at you – you eye the heavy bulge between his thighs and he gulps when your fingers trail his jean-clad cock which jumps with interest under your touch. He has never been this fucking hard before and he knows it's not because for the past few months, the only thing he has been fucking was his fist – it's because of you. “Let me.” You murmur and he nods, he watches your nimble fingers working on his buttons and when he shackles the piece of clothing off him your hands map out his chest, coming down to his belly button and you lick your lips when you see the trail of hairs leading down into the waistband of his jeans. You kiss him right there – on the soft swell of his tummy – and he jumps forward, his hands gripping your head to keep you there. You grin against his skin and your tongue pokes out of your mouth to lick him there – he shudders, and the grip on your head loosens. You pull away from him and your hands start working on his belt – it falls to the ground with a quiet cling of the metal.
You cup him in your hand through the fabric of his jeans – even now you can feel how heavy he is and that he will feel fucking big inside of you. “You are a big boy aren't you, Javi?” He whimpers at your question and nods furiously as he looks down at you – your gaze immediately locking with his as you are already peering up at him through your eyelashes and you pout at his state. You never expected Javier to be so...needy. He closes his eyes when you squeeze him again and then he hears the sound of a zipper, he feels your breath ghosting over his tip. “No underwear?” He shakes his head and chokes when you lick the salty precum.
“No-no. Fuck. Too uncomfortable.” His eyes close as if he's in pain and his nostril flare when he feels the first velvety slide of your tongue against his cock. Your pulse quickens and you feel too fucking powerful right now as you feel him swell even more in your mouth. You hold his gaze as you pull off of him and flatten your tongue – licking your way to the underside of his cock. His hands cradle the back of your head, his pupils completely blown as he watches you put open-mouth kisses onto the hard warm flesh that jumps under your attention.
And he is fucking big – his size obvious by sight and by the way he feels around your hand – heavy and warm. But you really feel it when you take him deeper into your throat the girth of his cock opens your mouth wider. The broken sound between a whimper and a groan makes you clench around nothing and he tastes exactly how you imagined him – clean and delicious – exactly like Javier looks. You can't fit all of him in your mouth but you try – focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat – the squelching sounds of your mouth bobbing up and down his length filling the room. You try to take him deeper and deeper – until you gag around him and pull away. Javis's mouth is wide open when you pull off of him – spit trailing from your lips and connecting you to the swollen tip of his cock. His chest heaves and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip – collecting the saliva – and puts it in his mouth – he groans with approval and it makes you want to give him more. You sink your awaiting mouth back onto his cock once more and moan when another spurt of precum lands on your tongue. Your hand is securely wrapped around the base of his cock as you stroke him slowly and you look back up at him.
He looks absolutely and positively wrecked – his hair falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead as he grits his teeth struggling to not make you take him deeper – to not fuck your throat. His grip on your hair tightens as he starts panting harshly and you feel him twitch in your mouth – you can feel he is almost there – but then he pulls back from you.
He almost lifts you into the air as his tongue delves into your mouth – wanting to taste himself on you. The bitterness of himself on your tongue makes him groan into your mouth and you never expected him to be this vocal. He steps out of his jeans and then he is back on you – his fingers working on the straps of your dress while he plants butterfly kisses on the column of your throat. He discards the piece of clothing as if it has offended him somehow and he pulls back to look at you – you can see the muscle on his thigh flex as he tries to keep his balance on his heels. His hands reach back for you – grabbing you under your knees before he is pulling you closer to him. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties before they are too thrown somewhere behind him.
His thick fingers work their way inside you without a warning – two of them plunging deep. You are soft, and pliant under him. Your walls squeeze him tight when he moves his finger up, up – until you sob and grab his wrist - to stop him or to plea for him to keep doing that you aren't sure. It never felt like this and he grins against the flesh of your cheek – kissing you there softly. His other hand grabs one of your tits and he pinches the nipple – it hardens under his hard touch. He bends down to suck it into his mouth and your hand shoots out to the back of his head – keeping him there. One of your thighs is firmly planted on his shoulder and his fingernails dig into your ankle, the blunt nails creating crescent shapes. Your heel digs into his shoulder with a particular shove into your cunt – the tips of his fingers brushing against something that makes you hold your breath.
The way you keep repeating his name makes him want to never leave your perfect cunt. His name and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking him in make him light-headed. He wishes no one would call him Javi again after he hears it from your mouth – whiny and high-pitched, filled with the need to let go.
“Come on, Bee. I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking give it to me. I want you to soak my fingers.” You nod vigorously and sob when his thumb starts drawing harsh circles against your clit. He hits nerves inside of you you didn’t even knew you had before. You take everything he gives – the flick of his wrist, his fingers petting your walls, his mouth on yours. You cum when he bites you into the juncture between your shoulder and neck – his tongue smoothing the bite. You feel him smile against your mouth when you cry out into him – his fingers still working inside of you until you wheeze and tell him to stop. He pulls them out and maps your body with your juices – the slick trail shining under the moonlight that falls onto the both of you.
He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom – ripping the foil packet between his teeth before he puts it onto his length. He sits up on his heels – his cock bobbing with the movement and you gulp as he pats his thigh – telling you to come to him and you do – all jelly legged and sedated after your first orgasm. He pulls you close by the small of your back and his cock nudges against your entrance when you swing your legs around his waist. His hairy legs stick to the back of your thighs and you can feel the sweat rolling off him – his hands supporting you as you sink down on him. Your mouth forming into an “o” and you let out a breathless moan. You knew he was big – as his girth opened up your mouth more and the weight of him heavy on your tongue. But this feels entirely different. You squirm on his lap and he grunts – his other hand coming down onto the flesh of your ass. The pinch you feel as he fills you completely is uncomfortable and you grip his bicep – your nails digging into the flesh there. He hisses and kisses you – the kiss languid and slow. His tongue traces your mouth and your grip loosens – your muscles start to relax.
“Javi, you are so big.” You don’t say him to make him feel better or feed his ego – it's just a fact. Clear and simple. His nose bumps against yours and he looks into your eyes – he is so close he is breathing the oxygen you exhale.
“I know, hermosa. But you can take it. Can’t you?” The new term of endearment falling out of his mouth is surprising but welcome nevertheless. He waits for your answer as he fights himself not to move – your walls squeezing around him and he counts to five so he doesn’t cum right now like some kind of fucking teenager.
Javier slept with a lot of women. One night stands, prostitutes, his fiancé. But he never felt like this with anyone. His heart never hammered in his chest so quickly and the blood in his veins didn’t boil. His skin never felt like it was on fire by a simple touch. It's new and he welcomes it with open arms. He is tired of fighting and running. This is his new life and it's not too bad – it's better than it ever was. He never feels small with you and he chases that feeling.
“Yes, I can. I can take it. Please move, Javi.” He listens to your command – the first drag of his cock through your walls feels intoxicating. His hot breath fans against your chest as his forehead rests on it and his hand that was gripping your ass moves to your hip – dragging you up and down his cock as you meet his every perfectly measured thrust. He maps your body and listens to your reactions – he figures out what you like or what you really don’t after a few minutes as he pounds into you.
You don’t know which one of you is louder but it makes him even sexier – the guys you’ve been with before weren't so enthusiastic about it and you felt like they didn’t even wanted to be there – the only hint of them enjoying it was when they came with a quiet grunt and fall onto the bed next to you. Javier is different – he always was – and you live for all the sounds he makes. How he gropes you and maps out your body – his fingers dipping into every crease and curve of your body. And you can feel that in each thrust there is this hidden emotion that he doesn’t want to show. But you grew up with him and can read him pretty well – and your heart swells with the unspoken words. You don’t need to hear them. He will figure it out himself eventually.
He feels that you are close after he gives you a particularly hardh thrust and you squeal – your nails scratching his muscular back that you’ve been ogling anytime he came out of the shower without a t-shirt or when it was too hot outside and decided the piece of clothing wasn’t necessary in that kind of weather. His mustache scrapes along the flesh on your breasts and you feel his hips shift – the change of position making him feel even bigger. He puts his thumb into your mouth as he looks at you and you suck it – it tastes of you and sweat but you don’t care – as he pulls it out and starts rubbing your clit with it.
It only takes a few drags of his cock before you are cumming – your clit throbbing as he keeps pressure on it. Your walls squeeze him and he feels like he can't move any further. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug him so he is looking at you. He is all lust-blown eyes and his baring teeth turned into a snarl. You can feel every vein and bump in his cock with every thrust and he twitches inside of you – his hand coming to hold the hinge of your jaw as his tongue tangles with yours once again. It's frantic as are his deep thrusts and you are pretty sure he will break the bed soon – the headboard hitting the wall with every pass of his hips. You admire how fucking lost in you he looks – slack-jawed and dazed. You tug on his hair once more and the reaction is almost instant – his hips faltering for a moment seemingly losing his rhythm.
“Come on, Javi. I want you to look at me when you cum.” Your requests makes him shut his eyes before he shudders and opens them – your name a broken record when he spills into the condom. You scratch him on the back of his head – your movements slow and languid. He pulls out of you after a moment – when he catches his breath and his heartbeat evens out – even though when he is with you it seems impossible.
The aftercare is soft and sweet as he lays on his back and pulls you close to him – stroking your spine and kissing the top of your head.
“Do you want me to leave?” He pulls you tighter against him after you ask him that and he grips your chin so you look at him.
“Never again, Bee. I want you right here with me.” You sigh in contentment and give him a sweet kiss.
You are definitely his type, Javier thinks as he feels your breath even out and slowly, he falls asleep too – you in his arms – and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
So much love to you sweetheart! Major congrats on hitting 10! That’s SUCH a huge achievement! You deserve 10,000 more and you *know it*.
Can I ask for…
🖊️ Breath-hitching when they get close with Joel? I feel like it’s such a JOEL thing. His expression stays the same, his body language is stiff, but he can’t deny the way his heart stops when you’re nearby
SO MUCH LOVE TO U
So, there you go tingling all the right bits in my brain. I love the idea of tension with Joel because he's just soooo serious, isn't he? I wanna thank you first of all, babes, idk if I'll ever make it to 10k more but just knowing you think I deserve it is good enough.
— main masterlist | fireplace celebration | 🏷️: established relationship, soft!Joel, pet names, mentions of smut, minors DNI; [WC: 1.2k]
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ edges start to burn꒱
This thing with Joel was new. Tentative, and big.
It was like a dip in deep ocean, something you have only one clear memory of.
After dancing around each other for far too long, he’d done something about the tension that was born in the air every time the two of you were alone, and now, it was like getting to know Joel all over again. All the nervousness, the electric shocks whenever he bumped into you or talked too close to your ears—everything it took you goddamn months to get used to, and the fact that it now came with more.
It was torture, and yet, you both loved it.
Since the kiss after the campfire, now Joel smiled at you differently.
You’d seen it the first time after he pulled away, his hands still cupping your neck and his arms around you holding you back from collapsing on the floor in a thousand tiny pieces. He was smiling. It was—shy. Coy. A little cocky, too, specially with the smugness in his voice when he said, “open your eyes, darlin’.”
Joel became a hazard to your health.
Every time he inched closer, it made the oxygen in your body to behave funny—it stilled. His voice and his presence were like the zero degree hit mark, and you became ice under his touch before you melted away.
He takes it slow.
Painfully slow, if anyone asked you, but it’s still fine. Joel’s look has a promise of something bigger, and it keeps you on your toes. It’s better that he grows you used to the curling in your toes when he kisses you long and deep, or trail his hands on your body.
That’s how you’ll survive something more—dosed on him.
Joel crawls inside of you like something wild. He comes in bit by bit, trusting your smiles the more they come. He takes a while before allowing you to caress him the same you he loves doing you.
While his hands have trailed almost all of your body — trembling, shaking, breathing through the assistance of his own breath too close to yours and his gaze holding a dark cloud over you, his whispers of ‘it’s ok, darlin’—feels good, doesn’t it? I like seein’ you squirm like this’ driving you into a foggy haze — that was all that happened. Joel kissed you and ground your hips into his, letting you claw at his scalp and hold onto him for dear life, but it was only you who fell apart at first.
Then, one day, your hands traveled underneath his shirt, and sighed, melting into it.
Not away from it. Joel continued his ministrations, sighing deeper into the kiss, opening up beneath you.
Getting underneath Miller’s layers was similar to bringing an untamed horse inside close borders—it came with drawing boundaries, and going through them slowly. Surely.
Joel opened up about his past before he could feel comfortable to get naked for you.
It was like he needed you to see him before seeing the rest. A map of scars and a long past.
It’s intense, and more than you expected, but not in a bad way. It’s real.
He’s so Joel that you know him better than you knew people who grew up around you. He understood the deepest and darkest parts of you, shrugging them off as if they were nothing.
Joel showered you in compliments whenever he could, much like you did with him. Yours always came out much shier than his, but he blushed at them all the same.
On a Sunday, you wake up to the smell of coffee and find him in the kitchen with your vinyl player turning the whole place into a dream. Maybe it’s the Spring air outside, and the pink light streaming through your glass, or maybe it’s him—
Joel’s leaning on the counter, shirtless. It’s definitely him.
Or maybe you’re still dreaming.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
He spins around with the mug in his lips, but you see the smile behind it. Your smile.
He gives you a curt nod, then uses his free hand to make a come hither gesture.
You walk towards him, drunk in sleep and the view you’re graced with, and then walk until your body is all pressed on his. Your arms wrap around his waist, and Joel sips his coffee before putting the mug down behind him. He then hugs properly, putting his face on his neck. “Mornin’ to you, too.”
You chuckle. “Sorry. Thought I was still dreaming there for a sec.”
“Is that so?” His breath tickles your neck, and you nuzzle your nose in his hair. He’s been using the coconut shampoo you gave him, finally. “Didn’t know you dreamt about me being indecent that often.”
Heat burned in your cheeks, and you were thankful for being hidden in the crook of his neck. “Shut up.” You feel him pulling back to look at you. “You know what I mean.”
“I might know what you mean, yeah.” Joel laughs a little. “I told ya I’d be dropping by the first day that it was hot early in the mornin’ to get a look at your window. I washed the dishes and saw the sink was drippin’, too, so I fixed that. Might’ve gotten sprayed in the process.”
“So handy, Miller.”
He leans until his lips were brushing on yours to answer, “You knew that already,” in a whisper.
It was way too early to be trembling like this, “Unlike some people, I haven’t had my coffee yet.” It comes out a little breathless.
Joel hums thoughtfully at you, and presses a kiss on your waiting lips either way.
How could you be so delusional to think you’d need coffee when he was here. Joel’s better than coffee. Sharper, too.
When he kisses you like this, it made you remember the hidden books in Elena’s secret library that you read when you were younger. The ones you wished you could take it home and read until all the light went out of the sky—lines and thousands of words of exactly this; his hands felt hot. They made your body respond like a magnet.
Joel left a trail of heat wherever his hands passed by, and it woke you up much faster than caffeine would dream of.
Your own moans your muffled to your ears by the sound of his soft sighing, and that was all you needed to press harder into him; slithering your body on his. Joel responded by untangling from you with his heavy breathing and his smile turned up a thousand watts. “I really like this ‘just woke up’ look on ya,” he says before dipping to kiss along your neck.
Your only answer is a whine, and trying to control the desire to start climbing him as you had times before.
His skin is so hot under your palms that they’ve been running all over his back as kissed you lazy and awake, and you can feel the dampness in your underwear because of the way he squeezed your thighs and your ass.
When Joel nibbles on a sensitive part of your neck, you whine louder. Whine his name.
“‘kay, ok, I hear you.” Joel then scoops you up by your ass, pulling a surprised yelp from you. “C’mon,” he laughs.
He makes his way to your bedroom, and you think—definitely still dreaming. You’ll believe it’s real when you eat something.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. * | send me mail 💌
Happy day of survival, Eddie!
Steve doesn’t leave the hospital.
He says it’s because Max’s mom can’t be reached and he doesn’t want her to wake up alone, which is true, but that’s not the main reason.
Wayne Munson looks haunted.
His nephew has been borderline dead for hours now, and they won’t let anyone back to see him or give any updates other than he’s still alive, not dead, heart beating, blood still forcefully exiting the body through multiple wounds.
It’s not looking good.
It’s beyond touch and go.
It’s go and go. Touch and touch?
Steve doesn’t fucking know. He just knows they’ve never been here before.
And he didn’t know what to do about it.
Max was in surgery getting the bones in her legs fixed. They expected her to stabilize after surgery, but she’d have a long road ahead.
Eddie was in surgery to get internal bleeding under control so they could focus on the external bleeding. They were giving him blood as quickly as he was losing it.
Wayne had given two pints the moment he arrived, despite the doctors recommending he not give more than one since he hadn’t eaten all day.
Steve was a match, but they wouldn’t take from him because he’d suffered significant blood loss himself. No matter how much he argued, they turned him away, said they could find other donors.
He tried every time he saw a new nurse. But they must have all been warned about the ‘kid trying to kill himself via voluntary blood loss.’
So they all waited.
Wayne paced. Robin would just stare into space, then look at Steve, then the clock, then space again. Nancy was trying to manage the kids, making sure that all the parents were contacted and Dustin’s ankle was being looked at. Jonathan and Argyle had disappeared with Hopper and Joyce almost immediately, and Steve couldn’t really find it in himself to care about that.
The kids all went to Max’s recovery room the moment they were allowed. Nancy waited outside for the parents to show up. Robin’s parents had shown up and insisted she leave with them and Steve agreed; No use waiting here when she could wait at home.
But Steve and Wayne waited.
They sat across from each other, but didn’t look at each other or talk.
Wayne watched the doors, Steve watched the clock.
Four hours is a long time to be in surgery.
Five hours is a very long time to be in surgery.
Six hours is too long to be in surgery.
At hour seven, Steve finds one of the nicer nurses from earlier to try to get any kind of update that wasn’t just ‘he’s still alive.’
“Excuse me. Is there anything new on Eddie Munson?”
“Oh, you’re still here? Sweetie, you need to get some rest!”
“I’m fine. I just need to know how Eddie’s doing.”
He could feel Wayne’s eyes on him, but he ignored them for now.
“He’s still alive. They’d let you know if he wasn’t.”
“Yes, but how much longer will they be?”
“It’s hard to say.”
“It’s been a long time.”
“It has. He had a lot of very serious injuries.”
“I know, it just.” He sighed and shook his head. “He was asking for me when they brought him back. He was awake. I didn’t think it would take this long.”
He felt a warm weight on his shoulder. He turned to see Wayne standing beside him, sad smile pointed at the nurse.
“C’mon Steve. Let’s take a little walk.”
“What if they’re done while we’re gone?”
Wayne looked at the nurse. “Just going to the cafeteria. Come find us please.”
“Can do, Mr. Munson.”
Wayne gently guided Steve out of the waiting room, down the only hall that wasn’t closed with double doors. They passed some offices, a few supply closets, and made it to the cafeteria. It was busy, a fair mix of doctors, nurses, and visitors bustling through the line to grab some dinner or lunch or midnight snack. Steve had no idea what time it was.
“How about some sandwiches? They got premade ones over there so we don’t have to wait in line.”
Steve followed Wayne towards the sandwiches, surprised to find they looked decent. He pulled out his wallet and started to shuffle through the few bills he had left from their trip to War Zone when he felt Wayne’s hand on his.
“They aren’t charging right now because of the quake.”
Steve put his wallet away and picked out a ham, cheese, and mustard sandwich. He wasn’t really hungry, but he knew Wayne wasn’t going to let him leave if he didn’t try.
They sat down at a table in the far corner, no one at the surrounding tables despite the crowd hovering at the entrance.
They both took a bite of their sandwich, Steve resisting the nausea building up to get something in his system.
Steve stared at Wayne.
“Didn’t know you knew Eddie.”
“We kinda just met.”
“He’s mentioned you before.”
Steve knew his reputation, especially to people like Eddie. He may not have ever done anything directly to him, but he was around to watch it happen. He did his best not to cower from Wayne.
“I’m sure it wasn’t anything good. Look, Mr. Munson…”
“Uh uh. Let me finish.”
Steve nodded, eyes wide in fear of what Wayne would say.
“I remember him coming home one day his junior year saying there was this kid with this great hair that got all the girls. He sounded pretty jealous, but not of you.” Wayne raised his eyebrows, seeing if Steve understood. He did. “He didn’t say anything else until his second senior year. He came home with a black eye and I asked what the hell happened and he said you saved his ass from much worse. Remember that?”
The memory hit him hard.
Tommy had been stupid, like always. Eddie had been feeding into it, like always. Tommy got carried away and started pushing Eddie around. Eddie tried to walk away, Tommy refused to let him. He shoved him against the wall and threw two punches in a row at his eye before Steve was able to pull Tommy away and convince him to let Eddie go.
“I’d forgotten, but yeah.”
“He brought you up sometimes after that. About how you seemed different. But still didn’t have the courage to see for himself. Guess that changed?”
“In a way. We didn’t have much of a choice with this. I don’t know that he’d wanna be around me outside of…all of this.”
“Let’s ask him when he wakes up. I’ll make a bet with you.” Wayne smirked. Steve had no idea how he was holding it together so well. “I bet $5 he asks for you the moment he wakes up.”
“You don’t think he’ll ask for you? Or Dustin?”
“Nope. It’ll be you.”
They shook on it.
Steve managed to have about half of his sandwich before giving up. He still felt nauseous especially when he saw that the clock was broken and he had no real idea for how long they were sitting in there.
Wayne didn’t comment as they made their way back to the waiting area, just followed behind him, slight limp present from sitting in hospital chairs for too long.
They were only sitting down for about ten minutes when a nurse came over to Wayne. She looked like she had bad news.
Steve walked over to listen in.
“He may not wake up. He’s stable, but his status could change quickly. You can see him if you’d like, but be prepared for a lot of machines keeping him alive. He has a lot of stitches.”
Steve hadn’t meant to speak, but couldn’t help the relief flooding out of him.
Wayne nodded at him, tears shining in his eyes.
Steve repeated so he could believe it.
He’d spent the last 12 hours trying to convince himself Eddie couldn’t die, but now he had to convince himself he was alive.
“I’ll wait here, Mr. Munson.”
Despite the fact his brain and body were trying to force him to go see for himself that Eddie was alive, he knew Wayne needed to go first.
“Nonsense. You’re coming with me. The boy’s got two hands to hold, don’t he?”
Steve blushed, but nodded.
They followed the nurse through the doors Steve had been so convinced were locked, but had really just been closed. She walked them down a hall, then turned right down another hall, and left down a hall that was much darker, but had more doctors bustling around.
She stopped outside of room 327, turning to both of them.
“Visiting hours are technically over, but they’re giving you permission to stay. It helps patients to have company even when in a coma.”
Steve and Wayne nodded and thanked her before walking through the doorway.
She’d been right to warn them; machinery was hooked up to almost all available skin. He had one IV on his right hand that connected to a liquid bag to keep him hydrated, and one on his left hand for another blood transfusion. More tubes were coming out of various places, and he had an oxygen mask on his face instead of just the usual cannulas Steve had seen before.
Wayne pulled the chair to by the door over to his bed and sat down, gently touching his fingers and letting out the tears he’d probably been holding in for hours.
“You better come back to us, boy.”
Steve stood at the end of the bed, feeling like he was intruding on Wayne’s moment, but knowing saying anything or leaving would just interrupt it more.
“Grab the other chair and sit on that side, Steve.”
Who was Steve to argue?
He sat and placed his fingers on top of Eddie’s, frowning when the heart monitor started beating more rapidly.
Wayne looked over at their hands and then the heart monitor, a knowing smirk crossing his face.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“I thought he got over it.”
“Got over what?!”
Steve was trying not to get impatient, but Wayne wasn’t making any sense and Steve’s head hurt and he was exhausted and just wanted to rest.
“His crush on you.”
Steve’s head turned to Eddie so quickly, he practically gave himself whiplash.
He didn’t want to remove the oxygen mask, but he wanted so badly to see the full smile he knew Eddie was giving him.
His voice was barely audible, but Steve could make out the gist of it.
“Yeah, babe. We won.”
Wayne snorted. “He did.”
Steve squeezed his fingers gently, and then leaned over to kiss his forehead.
“Go back to sleep. We’ll be here when you wake up.”
“‘Kay. Luh you bo’.”
“Love ya, kid.”
Steve remained quiet, but looked up at Wayne after he was sure Eddie was actually back asleep.
“You know, I got to know him a lot better over the last few days. They say you don’t really know someone until you’ve seen them at their worst.” Steve shrugged. “I think we saw each others worst at different times and still managed to be here. That’s gotta mean something, right?”
Wayne reached a hand over and covered his and Eddie’s fingers.
“Yeah, kid. I think it means somethin’ pretty important.”
When Eddie woke up the next day, he was lucid enough to remove his own oxygen mask and start whisper yelling about his throat being dry.
Wayne shook his head and said he needed some fresh air, but he knew that was just to give Steve some privacy.
“I got you some water. Doctor says small sips and you can only have a few at a time.”
“Doc can…suck my…dick.”
“I’d rather he didn’t.”
Steve had no control here. He wasn’t used to it.
Eddie’s eyes searched his face for any sign of teasing, but found none. Of course he wouldn’t. Steve had spent the last 24 hours figuring out he was kind of halfway in love with Eddie already.
Robin was gonna lose her shit.
“Not any time soon. You’ve got a lot of healing to do.”
“Nope. Put your oxygen back on before they come yell at you.”
He groaned, but did as Steve asked.
He fell asleep minutes later, Steve’s fingers tracing patterns on his palm.
He wasn’t sure of many things; Eddie’s name still had to be officially cleared, the kids still had to visit, and Eddie had to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. But he knew that he was where he was supposed to be. With Eddie.
and for the mbappe recognition, can I request kylian's brother ethan feeling upset bc of how media pressures him to be like his older brother but he doesn't want to worry his family so he keeps it a secret, for some reason he feels like he can open up to kylian's gf and she gives him a pep talk saying he's gonna make his own legacy and accidentally kylian overhears it and feels so happy his little brother trusts her and how nice she is to him that he falls in love with her even more. u can give it ur own spin, this is just an idea, thank u in advance 💓
𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐛𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Kylian Mbappe x Female Reader
Word Count : 1.5k
𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: SLAAAAAY MORE MBAPPE RECOGNITION!!! Of course I don't mind writing about anyone, but more Neymar and Mbappe please c; teehee Thank you so much for requesting!! I Hope you like how I represent your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!!
(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN, currently covered in college work so as of now uploads will mainly be on weekends. Thank you for your patience c’: ♥
Kylian asked you earlier in the day if you would mind picking up his younger brother from futebal practice because he wouldn't be able to, and of course you didn't mind. When it was time to pick him up from futebal practice, you did so and brought him home. Considering how much Ethan loved to stay to himself, you did not give his abnormally quiet conduct much attention, but you could still sense something was off. Ethan is currently in the living room scrolling through his phone as you are currently preparing dinner.
Ethan fiddles with his hair as he lets out another sigh seeing a sports channel talk about his performances and comparing him to his brother once more. Ethan is proud of his brother and will always be his number 1 supporter, but he hates how he always gets compared to Kylian. He especially hates when grown men on the sports channel talk about how he isn't good and he would never be like his brother. He tries his hardest to ignore the harsh criticism, but when you constantly hear about it- it tends to build up until you cannot take it anymore. This has been going on for a while now, and the one time he tried to talk to one of his teammates who he considered a best friend, he told him to just ‘try and brush it off’ as the media will always be negative. Well, he tried to listen to his best friend but as a 16 year old, it's not surprising that it can not simply be ignored when it feels as if the public only likes you because they think they have the potential to see your brother. He felt as if when people look at him, all they think about is Kylian Mbappe, not Ethan Mbappe. He begins to contemplate if he should talk to you or not because he does not want to worry you, but he knew you were someone he could rely on. You and his brother have been dating for 3 years now, and anytime there was a minor convince- you always helped him no matter what. He shuts off his phone, deciding it is best to talk to you and begins to make his way into the kitchen.
You were preparing dinner as he was debating what to do. You put on some music and begin to prep your ingredients, carefully chopping and measuring everything. The kitchen smells amazing as you sauté garlic and onions in olive oil, adding in diced tomatoes and a sprinkle of spices.
Next, you start on the main course. You're making grilled chicken marinated in a savory mixture of soy sauce, honey, and ginger. You pat the chicken dry and place it on the grill, watching as it sizzles and cooks to perfection. While the chicken is cooking, you start on the side dish. You're making roasted sweet potatoes with a hint of cinnamon and brown sugar. You slice the sweet potatoes into thin rounds, toss them in a mixture of spices and oil, and place them in the oven to bake.
You can hear Ethan's footsteps when he enters the kitchen, indicating that the music was not played at an excessive volume. "It smells nice," he says as he takes a seat on the bar stool. You smile hearing his compliment, "I'm making chicken and roasted potatoes with asparagus for us! Although your brother is supposed to arrive home later than expected, I don't think we should go hungry until then, am I right?," you chuckle. He scratches the side of his head and nods in agreement before saying, "Hey ummm... Can we talk for a moment, Y/N.... ," he murmurs the final phrase, "There's been something that just has been bothering me."
"Of course," you say, sensing that he wants to open up to you about something personal.
"It's just that...I feel like I'm always being compared to Kylian, you know? Everyone's always asking me if I'm going to be as good as him or just the media constantly nagging my every move. If I mess up just once I just get so much hate, and it's like...I don't know if I can live up to that."
You nod sympathetically. "I can imagine that's a lot of pressure. But you don't have to be Kylian, you know? You can be your own player."
"But that's the thing," Ethan says, looking frustrated. "I want to be my own player, but it feels like everyone's always talking about how I compare to him. Even I do it to myself sometimes."
"Well, you're not alone," you say, trying to reassure him. "Lots of people compare themselves to others, but it's not always a helpful way to think. You're talented in your own right, and you don't have to measure up to anyone else's standards.”
Ethan seems to relax a little, nodding along. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But it's hard not to think about it when it's all people ever talk about."
"I get that," you say as you walk over to grab two plates from the counter. "But you should focus on your own progress and improvement, not what other people think or say. And even though you're young, you have such a huge opportunity to keep on learning and growing as a player. You have so much potential and you're constantly improving."
"But I keep making mistakes," he says with a sigh as he watches you beginning to prep the plates.
"Mistakes are a part of learning.You're going to make mistakes, but that doesn't mean you're not good enough. It means you're growing and learning. You have so much potential, and I believe in you. Just keep practicing, keep pushing yourself, and don't worry about what anyone else thinks or says. You're doing great." You speak while you put food on both plates, along with a fork and a knife, on each plate.
He stays quiet for a moment as he takes in the words that you tell him. A small smile appears on his face, seeming to feel a little better. "Thanks. I guess I just need to work harder."
You take both plates and set them both on the kitchen island, moving one over to Ethan as you explain, "You don't need to work harder, you just need to believe in yourself."
"And if you're really upset about it, you can always talk to Kylian about it," you say as you start chopping the roasted chicken into smaller pieces. " We both know how unfavorable the media can be toward him, and I am not a futebol star like you, so my advice may not be the greatest."
Ethan looks thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess I could talk to him about it. Thanks for listening, though. I feel like I can trust you.” He takes a bite of the asparagus.
"Of course I'm always here if you need to talk! And even though I'm not the best futebol player, if you ever need someone to talk to or to practice with, I'm here for you. I mean who knows, maybe I'll just cross you up." You both laugh, knowing that you could definitely not do that.
When you two were eating the delicious supper you had prepared, neither of you realized that Kylian had arrived home earlier than intended and had heard all you said.
Kylian quietly opens the front door of his house and makes his way to the kitchen. As he approaches, he can hear the sound of your voice, and his younger brother's voice responding. Curiosity piqued, he peeks around the corner and sees you sitting with his brother, giving him some advice and offering some kind words. He doesn't want to interrupt, so he decides to listen in. As he hears you speak, he can't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for you. You have always been a kind and caring person, but to see you taking the time to give his brother such motivational words is truly inspiring. Kylian takes a step back and leans against the wall, listening in to the conversation. He hears you tell his brother that he's capable of anything he sets his mind to, that he has so much potential, and that he doesn't need to compare himself to anyone else. Kylian can see the look of appreciation on his brother's face, and he can feel his own love for you grow even stronger. He thinks about how lucky he is to have you in his life, and how grateful he is for all the times you have encouraged him and supported him. He thinks about how you have always been there for him, through thick and thin, and how you always believed in him even when he didn't believe in himself.
In that moment, Kylian knows that he's found someone truly special, someone who brings out the best in him and in those around her. He knows that he'll always be grateful for your love and support, and he can't wait to see where your journey together will take you two.
kyle and kenny! + sick reader!!
wow two posts in a day.. this is what happens when you pick up no shifts at your job
anyhow next post after this will be the band smau intros methinks... (requests'll get finished and posted throughout the day tomorrow)
cws: none !
♡ KYLE BROFLOVSKI
Notices you aren't in class and shoots a quick text asking where you are, when you respond that you're sick, he's on a scavenger mode for you w/ class homework and notes.
Any class you both have he's got those notes for you and any class you DONT have, he's finding someone to give him notes.
"You don't have this class, Kyle?" "Yeah it's for (Y/N), they're sick Wendy."
Making sure you don't fall behind, it's been just one day but he can't let the idea of you trying to catch up in classes be a thing.
NOW...say what you want...but Kyle can cook..idc..he's got that soup maker in him locked down. (malewife Kyle...)
ANYHOW, he's making butternut squash soup (if you're allergic he's making the good ole standard chicken noodle, he probably's making multiple soups tbh) for you and he's making side dishes. He's literally going all out.
Def learned cooking tips and tricks from his mom
Side dishes are just crackers or almonds LMAO, he's good at cooking but when you're sick your energy tends to be lower so he doesn't want to overwhelm you with too much food, just stuff to power you through <3
Eating and drinking is important when sick and he wants you feeling better asap.
Aside from the food, he's got himself that he's bringing. Like he'll come over with his school work, your school work, whatever else, because he's gonna spend the night with you.
Don't try complaining about him getting sick, he's made up his mind that he's helping you out, won't care if he gets sick at all.
"Kyle..you'll get sick too if you stay with me, go home, I'll be fine." "Nope, I don't care if I get sick, taking care of you is what I have got to do."
Goes over the class work and notes for you if you're feeling up to it, if not, he'll wait until you are, or writes out how to work on the problems so you can learn on your own time if he isn't actually there to help.
Now.. cuddling with you is a weird thing. He'll definitely cuddle, but he's got such a physical germ issue and if you're sneezing a whole bunch, runny nose, anything.. snot related sick, he's helping you while keeping a little distance.
If you're on the drier side of sickness like a dry cough, stuffy nose, fever, things like that, he'll be fine keeping you close distance/cuddling/etc.
No kisses from Kyle though when you're sick :( (boooooo)
Makes up for it with letting you have comfy clothes of his.
Also does chores for you around the house. If you have laundry you needed to do, dishes, house cleaning, etc. he's handling it, you just sleep and rest.
Kyle standing in your room with a feather duster to remove dust because it's an irritant (malewife kyle pt 2)
He does manage to get sick though :(, now it's your turn!!
♡ KENNY MCCORMICK
Didn't know you were sick at first because Kenny was skipping class. Found out because he received a text from Stan like "yo are you and (y/n) both sick?"
Cue him skipping school to take care of you instead, he's got a mission to do and that's operation make (y/n) feel better.
Since he was skipping class he has no idea what happened in your classes or his own, so hopefully you don't have a lot of new material to work on when you both come back.
Kenny can most definitely cook too, he just acts like he can't. (canon bc of that home ec episode, he was definitely good at home ec that teacher was just a hater) but he isn't bringing you food, but he's cooking in your kitchen instead.
Makes you chicken noodle soup because it's easy and he's a lil basic. Gives you the dark blue gatorade to go with it though because that gatorade is the best one.
Also is another one that doesn't care if he gets sick (doesn't care because he can just.. die and then wake up the next day not sick)
He's kissing you because he's never been one to be afraid of germs or sickness. Doesn't want to hear complaints.
"Kenny I am SICK, you can't kiss me." "Oh word? I can't? Still going too though." and he swoops in for a kiss.
Tries taking your mind off being sick by distracting you. It sucks to be sick and just laying there so he wants to make sure you have at least some fun.
Like I imagine he's turned on those random youtube karaoke vids to try and sing along to them with your back turned but he's either singing the wrong song or the video has a minute left and he just started singing the song.
"ITS ALL ABOUT YOU GIRL ON A 16TH BIRTHDAY" "The song is earfquake by tyler what are you doing??" "What."
Would also do a few house chores like your dishes, but isn't going to go into a whole bunch of effort. He'd rather spend his time directly with you.
Lets you snuggle into his bright ass orange parka and he's holding you against his chest as you snooze. Places kisses at the top of your head as you sleep, also rubs circles into your waist/hips as you sleep. He's so content with you in his arms.
Decides to do a movie marathon with you since being sick is simply the best time to do a movie marathon.
I could imagine you guys watching the barbie movies tbh.
Cue Kenny dancing the same as those dancing dogs from barbie and the diamond castle
Let's you pick the movie though, Kenny is just there for the ride and to be with you while you're sick.
My experience being wrong about multiplicity
For a year and a few months more, I believed I was a system. Why did I believe this, and what are some reasons I did, as well as how I realized I was wrong?
Why I thought I was a system
Around September of 2021, I labeled myself as an endogenic median system. Upon finding the system label, I did nowhere near enough research before labeling myself as one. It felt like the non-traumagenic community didn't care; if you thought you were a system, you were one! If you didn't, you weren't. It felt black and white. Eventually, I realised I had trauma I was unaware of, and switched to the label traumagenic. I was no longer median, either. In less than a year, I had 100+ "alters", almost all "fictives". While this can happen, I don't believe I was nearly as stressed as I would have needed to be, and just.. didn't feel right.
Other factors that lead me into the belief
I have multiple other disorders. Specifically, I suspect I have BPD, and the dissociation, mood swings, sense of emptiness, and identity issues impacted me a lot. I mistook these symptoms for OSDD-1. I subconsciously started sectioning off parts of my identity, and felt more and more separate- hence the switch from median to multiple. I am also fictionkin and polymorph otherkin. Around 20 of my "fictives" ended up being kins. I am also, to put it simply, lonely. I never feel like I fit in. In the system community, sometimes I DID feel like I fit in. When I didn't, someone else was "chilling in cofront". A lot of them were like imaginary friends to make me feel less alone. Those ones don't even feel like a part of me, but they're not separate people, either. They're just.. figments of my own imagination. To be honest, I've felt much lonelier upon learning I am a singlet.
How I realized I was wrong
Honestly, it was somewhat obvious. Many of my "headmates" felt like they were a part of me, and if we had different bodies, it wouldn't be the same- because they were me. I also subconsciously started to copy symptoms I didn't have, I switched as I wanted, I was fictive heavy- which can happen, but it's rarer than people realise. My trauma was not severe or repetitive. I could go on.
A big problem in the system community is the "everyone is valid" mentality; I believe MUCH more research should be done before labeling as a system, and not enough people talk about it. Another issue is that not a lot of people talk about being wrong, and personally, I was terrified to tell people I was wrong. It's fucking difficult. There's too much "you're valid! you're valid! you're valid!" and not enough "hey, it's okay if you're wrong!". When I panicked around the time I realized I was wrong (and denied it for weeks), I never received an "it's okay if you're wrong". All I got was "hey, calm down, you ARE a system". I think the community has a lot to fix.
This has fucked up my dissociation issues and identity problems worse than they were before. I wish I had realized I was a singlet sooner or never jumped into this label. Not all of these mean you're a singlet, but if you relate to this, please be open to the idea of being wrong.
Thanks for reading this. Please share this- my goal with it is to help others. Have a good day/night, drink some water, and know that it's okay to be wrong.
Webb (3041) Persona Chart and your Online Persona/Content
I wanted to make a post about a online persona to help others if they wanna make one/analyze their current one idk
DISCLAIMER: not a professional I'm just a goofy gal also this is just like a thing I wanted to do idk you cant tell me what I can and cant post
So a lot of these things may be general, but bear with me, I did mainly gear it towards YouTube shit like I say channel and video a lot just because it's general to me, translate it how you want. I'm also gonna talk about how mine manifests at the bottom you can skip it if you wanna idc it's just interesting to me.
Ascendant - The first vibe your give off, which is pretty straight forward - it can also signal what aesthetic or color you could use the most. Whatever the signs themes are is what you may get the most compliments on.
1st House - The energy you immediately give off, like if you make a video what energy may be exuded in the first 30 seconds sort of deal. What viewers may describe you as to others, and what advertisers may look at when it comes to you.
1st House/Aries Content: A channel that's about you rather than your surroundings. Think of story time channels, GRWM but more aimmed at yourself than the products, just chatting streamer vibes. You'll probably be able to do whateve you want as long as it's you based.
2nd House - Values you may push into your content like if it's self love then that may be prevalent in your content. How you may use your skills to your advantage/how you show them off. How you may feel about the money you get from your content and things you may spend it on. This house could also tell you about aesthetics as well.
2nd House/Taurus Content: Fashion, makeup, shopping hauls, you could also post about affirmations and generally talk about the things you value. This house could also mean that you could focus on luxury (like 1$ [FOOD] vs 500$ [FOOD] like cheap vs expensive things doesn't need to be food). Like idk I think of Mina Le on YouTube when I think of 2nd house content.
3rd House- How you communicate, speak, and write the things you post online. This could also signal the humor you may have and how your comedic delivery may be. This is an important house as it naturally rules over social media, so I look at this has a secondary Ascendant.
3rd House/Gemini Content: This could also be a storytime house, just more comedic. Things like sharing poetry, writings, music are all things you can do. Because of the house, having multiple content streams is recommended or at least doing 2 topics/things by yourself. Teaching people how to communication could also be something. Creating scripts for other is good. This and Libra can indicate a pairing when it comes to content.
4th House - The environment you present/your background of videos, as this could function as another aesthetic house but more in a background sense. What kind of "homey" you may present yourself as. What kind of comfort you provide for other people, and how others may view you as "familiar". If you're someone who primary wants to create content from your home rather than traveling, this is a good house to take a look at.
4th House/Cancer Content: Things that have to do with the home. Like home organization, you could do family channel content (that's ETHICAL like teaching about parenting rather than bullying tf out of ur kid for views), at home cooking, house renovations, anything that involves homes and the feeling of it. This reminds me of like ppl who end up getting cooking books.
5th House - The creativity you put into your persona, this is the Leo house so your talents are on display in your house. Any showmanship you have may be revealed in this house/give you ideas to work with, the more dramatic humor that you may have, and if your audience may be on the younger side (like if you do youtube it could be those like "dont call amongus at 3am" or that guy who interviews kindergartners)
5th House/Leo Content: Art channel, (ik I've used it before but there's like 4ish signs that would be good at them) Story time channel, things that have to do with theatre (like there's a channel that talks about all the shitty plays he can find it's great), movie reviews, dance and music content. Anything that shows off talent. It could also be generally family friendly content so keep that in mind (ngl 5th house can do a lot of shit my bad dawg). Skits is also a good one.
6th House - Your routine when it come to creating content and incorporating it into your day. How often you prioritize posting and looking at things like analytics, comments etc. Health affects it may have on you (good or bad), maybe creating content that's health based? Or maybe even how your pets are involved (like creating a instagram page for your pet or something).
6th House/Virgo Content: Health and fitness (like the people who do either tutorials on how do do like yoga or sm or who do those 30 min work outs so the viewer can follow along), mental health advocate (like an Instagram page dedicated to ending stigmas), a pet channel (like either just "it's me chillin w my dog lmao" or that like TheUrbanRescueRanch on Instagram if you don't know them pls look they have kangaroos and it's so chaotic), you could also do wellness recipes like that vegan lady w they scrappy cooking on Instagram. This is a day to day house so making a video just about your day could do well.
7th House - The partnerships you create with your online presence and the energy you put into those partnerships. Contracts you may receive due to your presence. How you may interact one on one with fans (like if you meet them in a coffee shop, signing things before a meet or something, talking in DMs). This is also how people could become a bit parasocial when it comes to you/how they could view.
7th House/Libra Content: Could be a partnership/couples channel, like it could either be marriage or just a bff kinda thing. You could make therapeutic content, whether it's discussing coping mechanisms or just making people feel as calm as possible. You may also make things that are more one on one than in big groups. This could also be legal topic (like LegalEagle on YouTube or something)
8th House - The privacy you may be "granted" by your audience, and things you simply would like to keep private. This can also rule the money you get from others because 2nd is getting money like from skills and 8th is dealing with others money (idk I see some ppl saying having something in this house isn't beneficial for online things like it is if you work with it get that mf coin). The darker topics you may like to discuss. How people my encroach on your space/what they may really like to know. Also this can tell you what kind of transformations you may go through because of this venture.
8th House/Scorpio Content: Obviously could be occult related things such as tarot readings, and discussing planets. Content could involve death (like a mortician), or just things people don't really like talking about. Another one could be a tea channel since this house is privacy. You could also never show you face or attach a face to your content. The best channel that I can think of that represents 8th house is Wendigoon (even tho his face is attached he does like darker content in a way that doesn't make you feel icky), you could also do conspiracy theories oo spooky.
9th House - The philosophy you engage in online, (how you live, laugh, and love online). How you learn/study and evolve online (Like are you good at researching topics etc). How you feel about involving religion into your content. This also can tell you about your overseas experiences/fans.
9th House/Sagittarius Content: Travel content is a big one for this house, or simply just documenting places you never been (like that one dude who just like has a gopro and just talks to the locals of areas and goes into their homes and just talks and shit it's awesome). Embrace a carefree nature with your content as well. You could show people how to loosen up and create encouraging content as well. Religious teaching and education is always something to work with.
MC - The vibe you naturally give off when it comes to your career. How others may see your goals. The themes of your success you should lean more towards (like if its Sagittarius or something they should be freedom based things). How masses may react to you/treat you. This is also how well you can read your audience.
10th House - How you approach your success/public recognition you get. How people may give you recognition for your work/how hard you work for said things. This may be how you choose to present yourself. This is also how you may celebrate milestones.
10th House/Capricorn Content: Anything that involves hard work could be involved (like "I made a boat and heres how" type of shit), things that involve Celebrities could be involved, like "high society" shit (criticism or favoritism is fine idc). Those like "I made a billion dollars and heres what you need to do" kind of videos. Content in this house is more practical and is geared towards becoming to successful rather than like having fun? So long term series/projects is recommended. I feel like people with this placement may have a foot already in something they could use for content more than others.
11th House - What your community may be like/how they consume the media you put out. What goals you may have and how you go about achieving them. What humanitarian activities you take part in/the charities you donate to.
11th House/Aquarius Content: Literally just become Mr. Beast. Things that involve groups of people while putting your own spin on it. Tech related things (like headphones reviews and such). Expressing your goals and documenting them. Making a sort of content group. This house is generally one to stick with others while keeping individuality.
12th House - How you affect people subconsciously (or how you live in ppls heads rent free). The things you may hide from the public/think about a lot when it comes to your content (good or bad). How your dreams may connect to your content. How spirituality affects your persona.
12th House/Pisces Content: Dream analysis related content, like 8th you may not attach a face. This content may not even involve you specifically, as you may prefer to work in shadows like with research or editing. This can also be drug related content, (like those pages that talk about how different drugs work with the human body), you could also talk about spirituality as a whole, like those channels that talk about shifting realities and such, and this can also be a conspiracy theory channel as well.
Sun - Your online persona that's seen immediately. Similarly to 1st house, advertisers and first time viewers look at this to determine if they want to be involved in your content. This can also be where you excel the most (look at da house).
Moon - The emotions you may have when it comes to creating content. Your emotional investment into the work, what things you may take to heart. How you are emotionally for yourself and audience. That topics may speak to your emotions.
Mercury - What voice you may put on/how you communicate. What kind of organization may work for you and what your mental activity looks like when it comes to creating. This is also how you may type, and topics you may love to create things for. This could also rule how others talk about you, the comments and compliments you get etc.
Venus - The style you have, aesthetics you may lean towards, and the things you may buy for content creation. This is also you could receive and give love to others. This could tell you why people may love what you put out.
Mars - Your passions. Along with mercury, this may help you pick topics to focus on. Where the most of your energy may go. Where you could face aggression from your audience, and where others may attempt to pick fights. Things you may advocate for. This could also indicate where your audience is the most active.
Jupiter - Where all of your expansions may be. A lot of your success may be anchored to this planet/how you feel about your successes. This is also an indicator what your audience may be like. This is also where others may want to see your succeed the most.
Saturn - Where you may have some delays, things may take the most time to develop in. The things you can't use shortcuts for without consequence. This is also the house you may look forward to the most (as if you work with Saturn correctly, you get abundance). This is where you are the most dedicated, and receive the most dedication from others.
Uranus - The new things you bring to the table. This is where you could be viewed as zany, a bit chaotic, and generally a bit weird. This is also where you have the most progressive views. The placement could also show where you may be ahead of the curb when it comes to other creators. This could also hint at your editing and design style.
Neptune - This is the place that people may project onto you. (This may sound bad, but when it comes to creating content, lean into where Neptune is). This is where you may have the most dreams/dream about ideas you may have. This is the part that others want you to fit in the most. This may act as a secondary Sun due to the planets nature in relation to personas.
Pluto - What things will go from one extreme to the other when it comes to the things you get from creating. What things people may obsess about it when comes to you (again, useful even if it doesn't sound like it). This is where you transform the most. Some topic you may obsess over the most. (There's already a post about it if I can find it I'll link it), but it can also tell you where you may get cancelled.
North Node - What path you may take while online, what themes/skills you may wish to bring into your profile, and generally the recommended path to take if you'd like to grow.
South Node - The things you naturally bring into into your work/what you naturally exude, your creative comfort zone. Things that may come to you with ease.
Vertex - Situations you may be put into while online, things that feel unavoidable while online.
Chiron - The placement of Chiron can tell you what you may be the most insecure about. This can also be where you get picked on/bullied the most. This can also be where you provide healing for yourself and others.
Lilith - Where you could be suspicious of/or become toxic to others. The place that others could think you have a fair amount of power/where people are drawn to you. This could also be where you break some form of conventional rule. Another thing I noticed is where people assume you're the most like Lilith when they may not be since this a persona.
Part of Fortune - Where you are the most fortunate/have a lot of luck. Like SN this is where things could come naturally for you.
Juno - Where you would like to have partnerships - in Synastry you can use to see who would be good content creator partner for you.
You could look at where Webb is in the chart itself but a part of me feels like it would be a cycle of looking at webb persona charts, maybe it could recommend what medium to start with?
#1 I'd like to mention: Make charts for your channels/blogs/accounts. Looking at the Webb in there is always cool/how it interacts with your own chart. If you'd like to check the persona chart in that as well that could work. Personally I look at the things I use the most.
ok that section is over it's selfish time
Let me know what your placements are and what your experiences have been like!!! I'd really love to hear how they manifest for you.
I wanna talk about my placements for a little bit, just because when I looked at the chart I was like omg slay that's so cool omg omg
Feel free to skip idc so the placements are:
Libra Ascendant and Cancer MC:
So through a lot of my online experience I get a lot of people either complimenting my art (for other profiles I have I use art I make as literally everything) I also get told I'm pretty a lot I was an ugly kid imma BRAG. Cancer MC seems to come in full throttle as it's really easy for me to detect if my audience cares if I do something/doesn't like the people I interact with. A good example is I was playing a game with an overly aggressive friend of mine and my viewer count PLUMMETED they hated his ass, and someone had actually gotten upset at the guy I was playing with at voiced it in chat and called him egotistical and such. Like that Mercury opposite MC makes people loud when I do something they didn't like.
Aquarius Sun conjunct Neptune in 4th House:
I get a LOT of projection from people naturally which is fine. I think they think I'm a lot weirder than I actually am, and I find that people tend to be disappointed by the fact I'm not who I act like. And in 4th house I get told a lot that I do "cozy" things (like baking, no matter how weird I get it's in a comforting manner apparently, and just playing wholesomeish games) I also get called ma'am a lot??? Like ok damn. I also get told that people fall asleep while watching me often and it's really wholesome.
Sagittarius Moon Conjunct Mars in 2nd, and Conjunct Venus and Pluto, POF, and South Node in the 3rd house (theyre all holdin hands omg):
This was was pretty cool to see especially since a LOT of people make strange comments whenever I wear makeup (like just things like how much I don't need it or that I should wear darker more gothic colors). My audience also likes seeing whatever skills I can do, espcailly art based, and a lot of my style has changed since I started creating stuff which is super nice. Idk I feel like Pluto has a chokehold on these planets when it comes to my stuff. I've also had a lot of people become aggressive over the fact I try to attach skills to my content, like one day a dude who as attempting to leach followers of me and my friend (he was not a good person lmao I cannot state that enough) got extremely upset over the fact that I had a webcomic that I advertise on my shit and the insults were reallllyy emotionally charged.
Capricorn Mercury and Chiron Conjunct in 3rd:
A thing that I get a LOT of ppl find the way I speak funny even thought I don't necessary feel confident about it, like I always have a fear of constantly sounding stupid but others seem to find it really funny and find the way I speak very comforting. Another thing I noticed is that my audience tends to parrot how I talk about myself (which is normal for everything), so if there was self deprecation, they'd go in on it, and the more I gas myself up they do the same. Something I also noticed is that whatever Mercury aspects is how I get complimented (so it's opposite MC and I often get told how I'm underrated or sm)
Aquarius Uranus in 5th house:
They just think I'm quirky with it tbh this probably meshes with the placement above really well. I am a funny little fella to others. I also have a habit of making everything goofy?? Like even on here.
Leo Jupiter in 10th:
I don't really experience a lot of negativity when I achieve something I wanted like it's really nice.
Saturn in 9th:
I get a LOT of overseas people, like out of most of my audience they're always overseas. I also hate trying to learn different tech things like editing and such, and I feel like until I learn how to do the things I need to do I wont be able to TRAVEL
North Node in 8th Gemini:
I tend to lean towards talking about and learning about more taboo topics when it comes to the stuff I create, also people seem to be okay with it as long as it's not focusing on one thing, there needs to be duality with the stuff I do.
Vertex in Taurus and Lilith in Aries 7th House:
I alllwwaaayyysss love finding people to work with, and I find people pretty easily. Like 75% of the people I want to make content with end up being longterm. The biggest issue is Lilith there, as with the Neptune conjunct Sun that predetermined view kinda makes people obsessed? Or that they know me more than I do people I'm more of an open person. I get a lot of people overstepping boundaries because they think I'd like that?? I also get people who think I'm courting them very often but I'm blaming my Libra Venus in 8th + Pluto in 11th natal.
Anw yeah this portion I just wanted to talk about my experiences a bit, I would LOVE others to tell me about theirs.
i still find it so interesting how jackie is (was?) largely defined by her niceness, her friendliness. she's not the strongest, or the smartest, but she can bring people together. so when she is mean to the other girls, you notice it. she's mean to taissa when she feels like her position as leader is undermined; she knows that taissa is just as much of their leader as she is and it scares her. she's mean to shauna when she finds out about jeff; understandable considering what a huge betrayal it is (at least on the surface). but the girl she is by far the meanest to is nat.
and there is no good reason why anyone should be mean to nat. she is kind of treated as a punching bag, and taissa especially resents her because she doesn't like the idea of nat threatening the team's performance with her day-drinking or whatever. but nat is by far the kindest, sweetest, most compassionate, genuine member of the team. even as an adult you can see that she might be jaded and grieving and ruthless, but she's still at her core a good person. young natalie especially though is someone with a very strong moral center and uses those guiding principles of kindness to define who she is.
she's more mature, capable, and sure of herself than the rest of the group, because before ever landing in that forest, she's had a much harder life than the rest of them. we see that van probably doesn't have the best home life, but the rest of them are living comfortably. even if they don't have great relationships with their parents, they still live in middle to upper class households. nat grew up in a trailer park with a father who horribly abused her and her mother (until the day she witnessed him accidentally shoot his own face off). these circumstances made nat more resilient, braver, and more empathetic than the other girls.
and i think jackie recognizes that, whether or not it's a conscious recognition. she knows that nat is everything she herself is not. nat is confident in herself whereas jackie is terribly insecure and relies on external validation to uphold her own identity. where nat comes from poverty, jackie grew up in a huge house. where nat is comfortable having sex with boys, jackie is too repressed to have sex with her longterm boyfriend because she's terrified of having to confront the fact that she won't actually like it. natalie expresses herself through alt/grunge fashion, music, and culture, whereas jackie is as preppy as it is physically possible to be. natalie is jackie's perfect opposite: a poor outcast who is nevertheless comfortable enough in her own (hetero)sexuality to present in a (gender) non-conforming way and not care what others think of her to jackie's rich popular prom queen soccer captain who is debilitatingly insecure and sexually repressed, conforming perfectly to society's expectations of her to the point that she'd rather die than explore the possibility that she might like girls.
jackie has negative interest in travis, but she breaks him and nat up and steals him from her anyway. and the thing is, nat doesn't even care. she forgives jackie. when lottie locks jackie in the closet (ha), nat is the one who comes to her rescue. when travis apologizes to nat for sleeping with jackie, she says it doesn't matter to her. jackie is horrible to nat, but nat is genuinely mature enough that it doesn't even bother her. jackie wears her insecurities on her sleeve, and nat sees right through her. she doesn't put up with jackie's bullshit, but she's also gracious enough to not gang up on jackie with the rest of the girls, even though she's the only one who actually has any right to be mad at her. nat is generally apart from the rest of the team, not only because she's an outcast, but because she's simply above their petty dramas.
jackie doesn't have a good reason to be mean to her. she's the kindest, sweetest girl on the team. but jackie is mean when she feels threatened, and nat's existence threatens her very identity.
TMNT POLLS PSA
I've explained this in my reblog tags of this post, please keep the TMNT polls fun and please be sure that the AU/Iteration/Fic creators are actually okay with being part of them.
**Not about polls I've been added in, but polls I've seen, and growing trends me and others have noticed. As always, please don't harass anyone.
Specifically the more popularity-poll-ish ones, ones that teeter on or are straight up serious, it can be discouraging for those who didn't ask for it. Some may fear speaking up about it because other people are having fun despite how they themselves feel about it. Especially when polls specifically put one well-known fanwork over a smaller one. Worse yet when you're dropped into it without awareness from beforehand. Hell, even when the creators have a similar size, it can hurt.
I've recently gotten some anon messages like this. Though I haven't seen that attitude in response to my AU in polls, it's the type of attitude I've seen towards a couple other creators.
Being publicly compared to others by hundreds, sometimes up to thousands, can be anxiety-inducing. As easy as it is to say that "the unpopularity of your work should not discourage you," truth be told, there's truth to the saying "comparison kills creativity."
To have your work being used to put down someone else? Someone who's working just as hard? Who's just trying to share an idea just like you? Or to be dismissed?
As stated by the authors of MMC and OMO, while it may seem like you're uplifting your favorite in this, it's awkward. It can be stressful.
For those with less votes, it's hard not to think that yours is being called "less than." An "I've never heard of the other one lmao" can feel like a punch in the gut.
There's also animosity towards more bigger fanworks because of the pedestal they've been put on.
All that, and not even wanting to be there in there first place.
These things should and can encourage creativity and growth. AUs crossing over, banter, propaganda posts, etc.
Around the time Tumblr first rolled out the poll function, I was included in The Night AU creator's Sep AU polls. Me and the poll creator, Ray, both got last place in 2 respective polls, hence why we call TN!Leo/Green and TD!Leo/Trainee the "Losers Duo." Key part being: there was the awareness that this was simply in good fun. And I enjoyed being included.
Getting to know the creators of The Night, Red Rover, Life Mission, Blood Bath, and SLAU was and still is an amazing experience. The amount of crossover art we've made is evident of how much I've loved its turnout. I'm still planning on making more crossover work in the future.
It was some of the most actual fun I've had in fandom since I was 12. I'm 20 by the end of the year.
Respect the boundaries of fanwork creators and don't be an asshole for fuck's sake.
Better Than Me [Part One] | Neteyam
[neteyam x f!omaticaya! reader]
sypnosis: you and neteyam have a past together, however you're forced to put your feelings aside for warrior training. for you and neteyam's sake.
warning(s): aged up! neteyam, petty side piece, combat, physical violence, cold shoulder, etc...
a/n: i'm thinking about opening up my request. although i have about 5 drafts on here, i would like some new ideas to write about. i'm probably only going to open it for about three days just to see how it goes, but i'll post when my requests are open. anyway, hope you enjoy part one!
soon after completing your iknimaya, you were a considered to be a promising warrior. the elders in your clan had high expectations for you, especially with the sky people coming back to pandora. there was never a day that you were praised for your amazing strength and bravery. as a young child you strived to become a warrior who young girls could look up to. you wanted to be a warrior that could protect her people from any threat.
even the olo'eyktan, jake sully, had acknowledged you and took you under his wing to train under his tutelage. this was a high honor in the clan because you weren't training with every one else who dreamed of being a warrior. no, you were being taught by the toruk makto. that in itself was enough for you to boast. of course, training with the olo'eyktan meant that you had to train alongside his eldest son.
neteyam te suli tsykek'itan.
"isn't it weird to be training alongside someone you used to court?" lo'ak snickered while you sat nonchalantly on a tree root, kicking your feet beside him. your eyes never left the knife that you were sharpening.
you rolled your eyes at his obvious teasing while lo'ak leaned his back against the huge root that you were perched on. why was every so adamant on your love life? ever since you began training with jake sully, everyone has been curious about how you felt training with your former lover.
"why would that be weird? we're both warriors." you tried to deflect, but lo'ak was determined to find some answers.
you and neteyam went way back. you both started off as childhood best friends and eventually, you both ended up courting each other in your early teens. every one thought that you and neteyam would be a great match. you excelled in almost everything that he did. ikran riding, archery, combat, etc. neytiri was the one who was most happy about you two courting. she had always favored you, even as a child. of course, not all good things last. now you both were in your early twenties with no relationship to each other.
"c'mon, bro," lo'ak urged, looking up at your nonchalant figure. "you and neteyam never told anyone why you guys broke off."
"and it's going to stay that way," you snapped, furrowing your brows down at him before sighing heavily. "why does it matter anymore? that was in the past."
"lo'ak, stop." you deadpanned, sliding off the tree root to stand beside him and placed a hand on his bicep. "i get that you're curious, but it's best you leave it in the past. neteyam is with someone else now, you know that."
"i'm just saying-" lo'ak cut himself off as he heard two voices approaching you two and soon enough, neteyam popped out from one of the bushes. you raised your brow as neteyam was not the only who had arrived. right beside him, hanging off his arm was his lover, ketsira. you sighed at the sight of the girl, sliding your knife into your sheath.
"really, you didn't have to walk me all the way over here." neteyam chuckled while patting her hand that was glued to his arm.
"its no problem at all. i wanted to!" came ketsira's high pitched tone.
as the couple began to approach you and lo'ak, you heard lo'ak mutter to himself and groan in annoyance. lo'ak was clear in how he felt about his big brother's newfound lover.
"oh, hello, lo'ak," ketsira greeted with a beaming smile, however when she noticed you beside lo'ak, that smile slightly faltered. "(y/n)."
you smirked at her dry tone. oh, how you loved when ketsira felt threatened by you. it only took your presence for her to act this way and you relished in it.
"hello, ketsira." you nodded your head politely as you leaned against the tree root behind you. you then acknowledged her lover who stood uncomfortably beside ketsira. "neteyam."
the boy flashed you a sheep smile and nodded his head. you figured that ketsira was not happy with the exchange because she immediately gave you a tight smile. she brought her hand up to rest under neteyam's jaw, pulling his face closer to her own. ketsira placed a gently peck on his lips before pulling away. you could've sworn that you seen her glance at you afterwards and that made you smirk to yourself.
ever since ketsira managed to get with neteyam, the girl was adamant on making sure that you weren't in the picture, despite you and neteyam being a thing in the past. it always amused you how hard ketsira tried to make you jealous of their relationship. although ketsira was still wary of you, you didn't really bring any attention to it. in fact, you could care less about how she felt.
"well, i'll leave you to it," ketsira chirped, giving neteyam one last peck on the cheek and turning around to leave. "meet me at my tent afterwards, neteyam, okay?"
neteyam didn't say anything as ketsira disappeared into the array of greenery that surrounded the area. the three omaticayans waited until her footsteps faded off before lo'ak glanced at each other with knowing looks. neteyam tilted his head in confusion as you and his younger brother bursted out into heavy laughter.
"what's so funny?" neteyam questioned warily as he looked you both up and down.
"you didn't have to walk me all the way down here." you mimicked neteyam with a deep tone as lo'ak latched onto your arm with a cheesy smile on his face. "i can manage just fine on my own."
"oh, i insist, my love!" lo'ak gasped in a high pitched voice, leaning his head on your shoulder playfully. "i wouldn't want my strong warrior boyfriend to get hurt on his way to the training grounds."
"okay, stop." neteyam deadpanned, bringing his hands up to brush your teasing off.
"oh, ketsira," you continued, wrapping an arm around lo'ak's shoulders to pull him closer to your side.
"oh, neteyam!" lo'ak gushed, rapidly blinking his lashes. "don't forget to meet me at my tent tonight!"
"enough!" neteyam yelled exasperatedly and you rolled your eyes with a grin, pulling away from lo'ak. "you two are the most obnoxious people when you are together."
"seriously, bro," lo'ak grumbled. "how can you stand her? ketsira is a nightmare. (y/n) was better than that."
that comment made neteyam hiss and you immediately elbowed loa'k's ribs which caused him to yelp in pain and hold his side. he sent you a glare and incredulously stared at you. you sighed at his obviousness and turned your attention to neteyam who was annoyed at his brother's statement.
"chill out, neteyam, we were just joking." you mumbled, picking up your bow and quiver filled arrows before stalking over to a clearing with a few makeshift targets in front of you.
after a couple minutes, jake sully appeared from the shrubs and had all his gear with him. he looked approvingly at his sons who were here early, but a slight smile lit jake's face up as he saw you already shooting arrows at targets. you noticed his gaze and immediatly out your bow down to go greet the older man.
"should have (y/n) around often," jake chuckled, ruffling his two son's hair. "you two boneheads are always late."
"lo'ak is always waking up late." neteyam muttered causing lo'ak to clear his throat in warning. no doubt, you figured that neteyam would cover for lo'ak each time they were late to training.
"what are we starting off with first, sir?" you asked, ignoring the two sully boys' glares that were directed at each other. jake let his arms fall to his side and his expression was firm now.
"we're going to start off with some sparring." jake responded. "just to see where you are in your combat skills. after that, i can determine what we need to work on as a whole."
you unconsciously let out a chuckle. combat was always your strongest suit and lo'ak knew that judging by the way he was now shifting uncomfortably at the thought. the boy was probably remembering all the times that he'd take all the blunt forces of your attacks while preparing for his iknimaya. of course, lo'ak passed with your guidance but the thoughts of your hits always seemed to stick with him.
neteyam, however, was always your rival in combat. for some odd reason, you were never able to conquer him in sparring. even after you two got together, neteyam didn't go easy on you and you appreciated him for that. it's how you managed to get stronger and prove yourself to the clan.
"i think neteyam should spar with her." lo'ak offered with a sly smile, nudging his older brother toward you and you pierced a glare into his face. he knew exactly what you were doing. neteyam was visibly uncomfortable, but his father grunted in agreement.
"you good with that, (y/n)?" jake asked and you nodded, pushing down any excuse that you wanted to come up with. "great. rules are no knifes. just your body. i want to see how well you can hold up with no weapons."
"of course, sir," you firmly said, while unbuckling your sheath that held your knife from the strap of your loincloth.
you and neteyam stalked towards the grass clearing where sparring was usually held in. you both stood across from each other; at least 6 feet apart. lo'ak and his father stood to the side, ready to spectate you both. neteyam's face was unreadable as he just stood with his arms at his side.
"whenever you two are ready, you may begin." jake announced and you two nodded in response, lifting up your fists and preparing to fight.
you hadn't sparred with neteyam since you were fifteen, so you weren't sure if you'd be able to take neteyam, but you at least had to try. if anything, you were different from when you were fifteen. you were stronger, faster, and gained knowledge from experience. there was no way you were going down without fighting. but knowing neteyam, he wasn't either. whether you were an enemy, friend, lover, or an ex, neteyam was not one to pull back his punches during a sparring match.
you both closed the gap between you two and you threw the first punch, pushing as much force through your arm as you could. neteyam swiftly dodged your hit, leaning to his side to avoid getting hit in the face. he recovered quickly and you watched as he pulled his own fist back, ready to repay you for your attempt. just as he was fast in dodging, you were too, as you bent down to evade his attack. you took note of his feet which were set apart and you smirked at the opening as you threw yourself into a squatting position, sweeping a leg toward his ankles. however, your smirk faded as he stepped back in time to avoid your foot.
shit, he probably saw it coming, you cursed in your head as you rolled backwards into a standing position and you lifted your arms up once more into fists. he ran at you this time, throwing combos at you now. his fists were coming at you from left and right with full force. you brought your forearms up to protect your face and you bit back a growl as his hits met with your arms. at some point, neteyam managed to land a hit on your jaw with a right hook and you grunted in pain.
you stumbled backwards, but you managed to memorize the pattern of his fists as you suddenly grabbed one of his wrists in time which shocked him for a moment. you abruptly brought your knee up, kneeing him in the abdomen and he wheezed at the contact. while he was distracted, you let go of his wrist, turned around for momentum, and delivered a swift kick to his face which caused him to stagger back in pain.
you wasted no time in coming at him again, opting to throw punches at him while he was still processing the kick. neteyam choked down the pain he was feeling, now attempting to dodge your hits. your punches were quick and fast. once one fist was pulled back, another was being thrown and neteyam was surprised to find himself struggling to keep up. in fact, you found an opening to kick his side. you did and he was knocked out of breath. you squatted down once again, sweeping your leg to meet his ankles. this time, the move connected and he was swept off his own feet, landing onto the ground with a hard thud.
you rushed forward, straddling his waist and threw your fists at his face. neteyam was quick to hold his forearms in front of his face. he used his upper body to raise himself up and toss you to the side. his body was now on top of yours, but before he could throw any hits at you, you swung your legs up to press your feet on his stomach. you yelled out as you found the strength to lift him up with your legs and toss him behind your head. neteyam tucked himself into a ball and he rolled against the ground, but he recovered as he used the momentum of the roll to stand right back up. you turned onto your stomach and lifted yourself up, about to charge at him until you heard jake's voice ring through the area.
"alright, that's enough." jake quickly interrupted and you both stopped in your tracks to look at him. "good job on carrying your weight, (y/n). if i remember, neteyam has always been able to beat you."
"right." you laughed in between heavy breathes as you stood up. you dusted the dirt off of your body, while the olo'eyktan praised you and neteyam's skills.
"well, you might be able to catch up to him soon." jake chuckled before giving his eldest son a nod, who grinned in turn at his father's approval. "let's move on. all three of you grab your bows and meet me in the middle of the forest."
while jake sully made his way deeper into the forest, you did just as he instructed, bending down to grab your knife. as you tied it back onto your loincloth, you noticed neteyam's eyes watching you and you rose your brow at him expectantly. did he have something to say?, you thought and you were right because neteyam came stalking over to you.
"you almost had me." neteyam breathed out with an amused smile and you scoffed.
"one of these days, i'll knock you on your ass, neteyam. you can trust me on that." you quipped, turning around to follow the olo'eyktan and your hair whipped across neteyam's chin.
neteyam was speechless at your coldness and his eyes glared down at the ground while his brows furrowed together in bewilderment. before he knew, he was storming right after you and grabbing at your forearm. neteyam turned you around abruptly to face him and you were greeted with a very angry face. his heated glare was pierced into you.
"what's your problem?' neteyam seethed and you rolled your eyes.
"there is no problem." you snapped, whipping your arm out of his hold and glared back at him. "i'm here to train, not make friends. you should focus on that as well. we're warriors now, neteyam, we can't have distractions right now. not when there's war going on."
you turned to follow after lo'ak and his father, but you paused for a moment. "also, it would be best to keep our distance from each other. for you and ketsira's sake."
that was the last thing that you said, before spinning on your heel and sauntering off. you left neteyam standing alone with just his thoughts.
you were kind of right. the two of you were new warriors tasked to fight for the people and protect them from danger. you both had responsibilities and you couldn't afford to have distractions. not when you spent all these years working so hard to build up your reputation and title. not when neteyam had ketsira by his side and the girl was already wary of you. still, neteyam couldn't hold back the hurt that was building up in his chest.
you changed, he thought as he only watched you walk away from him. you were stronger now. tougher. not the naive and soft girl that he had met. no longer the girl who always had a beaming smile on her face. you were a grown woman that held her own. the war that you both had grown up in had finally caught up to you.
your skin was hardened and your walls had grown even higher since you both were together. you were pushing him into the past and the thought alone was enough for neteyam to clench his fists in frustration. for some reason, even after all that you had said, he still felt drawn to you.
neteyam felt challenged. he was determined to break down any wall that you were holding up.
@darkacademictrash @valenvl12 @fanboyluvr @jakesully-sbabygirl @dumb-fawkin-bitch @mazemymirror @neteyamsdreams @23victoria @treefroggies @aonungsmate @neteyamsmate4life @wh01sgape @graysonmalik2550 @einemutterrijen @vylanin @ttktt @youngbananamilkshake @lovedbychoi
i'll only be accepting the first few requests to be tagged in the next part. please let me know in the replies if you want to be tagged and if you want to be added to my permanent taglist, please message me privately and tell me what character you'd prefer to be tagged in. thank you so much for reading my work and have a great day :)
Sacrifices in Avoidance of Heartbreak - Leila Ouahabi x Reader
A/n: so i wanted to post a Leila fic on Leila's birthday but I ran out of time so it's a belated post... oops.
Leaving Barcelona wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you felt like you had to. Your teammates and friends, including your best friend were under the assumption that your contract was ending and you could not get a renewal organised with Barcelona. So you left after Barcelona won the Champions League, following Vicky to Manchester, but instead of going to City, you went to United. A choice that confused everyone, but Ona was happy to have you, the defender eventually finding out the real reason that you left Barcelona one night when you were missing Spain a little too much.
You’d only spent a few seasons at the Spanish club, but you fell in love with Barcelona, and your best friend at that club. But she would never love you back, and hearing about Leila being with someone else was enough for it to feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest. So, you left, to avoid that heartbreak.
The problem is, avoidance behaviours do not solve the issues going on. The dwindling contact with your former teammates was concerning, and whilst they could see you were okay from your social media and WSL games, you missed Leila, your Barcelona teammates and Spain. The Mancunian weather was a lot to adjust to, and you drove to preserve your Spanish skills, plus it entertained Ona with conversations in Spanish that confused the rest of the team, minus Ivana.
United ended up fourth in the WSL in your first season, and whilst Ona spent her off-season heading back to Spain, your avoidance kicked in, determined to avoid the heartbreak you were still feeling a year later.
It was ridiculous, and you knew it, but you couldn’t handle seeing Leila and knowing you would never be good enough for her to look at you as more than a friend. Your self-sabotage having most likely wrecked the friendships you had with your Barcelona teammates.
“It is always weird when players leave.” Patri reminisced, reflecting on how many players were leaving Barcelona this summer, Leila included.
“They always have a reason, but they will always mean something to us. Contracts or not.” Alexia tried to comfort her teammates, but the group were slowly losing the happiness that the Spanish sun gave them earlier, sunbathing forgotten as Ona made a noise, her eyes closed but also hidden by sunglasses as she spoke.
“Not everyone leaves because of contracts. Y/n came to United to escape heartbreak.”
“Heartbreak? Who broke their heart?” Mapi frowned, sitting up and exchanging looks with Leila, who had no idea of what Ona was talking about.
“Hmm, Y/n was in love with Leila, I think they still are, but left instead of telling her…” Ona trailed off as she opened her eyes, realising Leila was staring at the ground, playing with her fingers.
“Ona…” Alexia murmured, wondering whether Ona even meant to disclose this information, but it was too late.
“Wait, you guys did not know?”
“Do they know Leila is going to Manchester City?”
Leila did not hear the response however, her mind drifting to the last few times she had seen you before you left Barcelona.
You’d been drifting away for a little while, being less touchy and affectionate, leaving rooms early and talking less when teaming up with Leila during practice.
There had always been something that had bothered the defender though, the way you held onto her longer than you held onto anyone else during your goodbye hugs, how your tears seemed to be caused by a deeper reason than leaving Barcelona, especially after something Leila had heard you say before.
You adored Spain, and would not leave unless you had no other choice, even admitting you’d love to settle somewhere there one day, after football. So to find out that you left the place you were in love with, because you fell in love with her, and she was just finding out now? It had been a year, and Ona admitted you were still in love with her?
“What was Y/n like?” Ingrid enquired to Mapi, having been silent for a majority of what was said, since she had never really met you, with the season Ingrid arrived being after you left during the summer.
“The sweetest person…” Leila murmured, getting out her phone to do who knows what, halfway between pressing your contact and calling you when an instagram notification caught her eye. A photo of you offering the camera a peony wasn’t something she expected, but the caption made her smile nonetheless.
‘roses are cliche, so i bought peonies’
“The sweetest?” Ingrid smiled, a knowing look on her face that left Mapi confused, but Leila was busy commenting an emoji on your instagram post.
“Sweet, unselfish, prefers to assist rather than score.”
“That was with Barcelona. With United, they score.” Ona countered Alexia’s point, leaving the midfielder to raise an eyebrow.
Leila’s focus drifted again as she opened her messages, finding her last message to you had been left on read, until the familiar speech bubble appeared. The Spaniard watched as one message finally came through.
‘Te echo de menos.’
You missed Leila. That was all she needed to know as a plan formed in her head for when she left to move to Manchester for the next two seasons.
You didn’t mean to hit send on that message, telling Leila you missed her. No doubt she would want to catch up when she arrived in Manchester now. Was that so bad, you asked yourself.
However, there was a slight issue, your still existent feelings for the Spanish defender, feelings that only a chosen few knew about because you were scared and insecure. Scared you’d be judged for leaving a top club because you fell in love, but insecure because you thought that you were not good enough for Leila.
Choosing to ignore your phone for the time being, you began to arrange the peonies you had bought, locating a vase and a spoonful of sugar to help the peonies last longer.
Your avoidance meant that after the euros, you didn’t hang out with your teammates outside of the training facility during pre-season. You wouldn’t admit it, not to Ona, not to anyone, but you were afraid Leila would be there. Seeing her again, after all this time… your feelings weren’t gone, your heart ached for her but she had no reason to love you back.
What you were doing wasn’t healthy, but you also uprooted your life from where you were happy in Spain and moved everything to England, and now Leila is here in Manchester too, reminding you of that pain in your chest every time you think of her.
You sacrificed your happiness to try to heal from heartbreak, or avoid it, but you sacrificed your happiness and broke your own heart leaving Leila and Spain behind.
You thought you had ruined everything as you fiddled with the paper straw in your cup, staring through the cloudy plastic lid to watch the ice cubes swirl around in your drink. An elbow in your side left you grimacing, about to elbow Millie back when she gestured to the scoreboard. You were next up to bowl.
Getting up to select the bowling ball you needed, you went to bowl, grinning and throwing your arms in the air when the ball didn’t go into the gutters and actually hit the pins.
You could hear laughter from your United teammates but you didn’t care, until you realised it wasn’t just your United teammates at the bowling alley. Your face fell, and you could feel how the goosebumps ran over your skin, stomach churning and heart fluttering. Some of Manchester City had joined, at the bowling lane next to where you and your United teammates were located.
Ona approached you, holding her bowling ball to bowl next but she paused, spotting the look on your face, and realising who you were looking at. She was yet to spot you, but Leila was in your close proximity for the first time in months.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t feel well. Could you bring my stuff to the toilets please? I’m going to go there then head home.” You explained, barely getting a concerned nod from the Spaniard before you were hurrying to the toilets, not realising that your speed walking caught another Spaniard’s attention.
Staring into the mirror in the toilets after exiting the cubicle, you grimaced as you realised you were sweating, your heart rate not calming down even after splashing water on your face and trying to focus on your breathing.
“I have your things.” Ona announced as she walked into the toilets, holding out your bag to you after you dried your hands with the hand dryer.
“Gracias, Ona. I will see you tomorrow, hopefully…” you swallowed nervously, fiddling with your keys in your hand as you headed towards the door, opening it only to freeze.
Leila smiled softly, but her face fell as you all but scurried away and out of the bowling alley in general, disappearing into the car park and out of sight.
“They hate me.”
“They love you, but think you would not love them.” Ona replied, sending you a text asking for you to tell her when you were home safely, before taking Leila back to the bowling lanes, explaining that you had felt unwell and gone home, so someone else would take over your turns to bowl.
It kept Leila up at night, the look on your face, the pain in your eyes that you didn’t realise she could see. Pain and tears. She found out from Ona that you got home safely, and it was only through persuasion and reminding Ona that she was the reason Leila knew of your feelings that Ona gave her your address, but warned her that if things went south, she would leave you alone.
Leila knew your schedule from when the two of you were at Barcelona, she knew how you functioned before and after training, and before and after games. After anything, you’d shower, make food then fall asleep watching something either in bed or on your couch unless you’d been invited out, in which you’d shower, eat out somewhere or eat before heading out, and crash in your bed after.
Life got busy for a few days, but once Leila had the chance, and she knew you were home, she decided to take the chance and go talk to you. Maybe it was invasive, going to your home after getting the address from Ona, you’d probably kill the young Spaniard but you and Ona had almost a sibling relationship after all this time. You’d get your own back at Ona somehow.
It took longer than expected to find where you lived, tempted to call someone for help since google maps’ directions weren’t the most helpful, but eventually Leila’s hand hovered over the door before spotting the doorbell. A doorbell that she wasn’t sure worked, until the door opened, revealing you wearing an apron over your pyjamas.
You froze the moment the doorbell rang, putting down the wooden spoon and turning down the hob before hurrying over to the door, forgetting to look out the window to check who it was.
“Leila! What, what are you doing here?” Your voice shook slightly, hand tightening on the door handle as the temptation to slam the door in your crush’s face crept into your mind, but you didn’t do it. Instead you let Leila in, leaving her in the hallway as you hurried back to the kitchen to stop your dinner from sticking to the pan.
“Why are you here, Leila?” Your voice thick with sadness, Leila hesitated as she stood at the counter next to you, observing you stirring what she assumed was what you were making for your dinner.
You didn’t hear what Leila said at first, turning your head as she repeated it, but you just hummed, you missed talking in Spanish. You spoke in Spanish to Ona a lot, but the rest of your teammates usually looked confused after.
“We need to talk about what? It’s been months, I don’t see how we have much to talk about-” the wooden spoon fell from your hand into the pot, your fingers clinging to Leila’s zip up hoodie as she pulled you into a hug. She didn’t hold onto you tightly, expecting you to push her away, but your body betrayed you as you leaned into Leila, your face buried in her shoulder as you moved your arms to hug her back.
Only pulling away when your timer went off, signifying that your dinner was done, you couldn’t look Leila in the eye. Your focus stayed with your dinner and trying to get it served whilst still warm, and not make a mess in the process.
“I know why you left Barcelona.”
You hummed, gently tilting the pot to pour your dinner into the bowl you had out, hoping not to spill it but Leila’s lack of subtlety took you by surprise.
“You left because you are in love with me.”
Leila’s eyes widened at the clattering noise of the pot hitting the rim of the bowl, hurrying forwards to help you before you split your dinner on the counter.
“Who, who told you that?” Your lack of denial left Leila’s eyes softening, deciding to try not to get Ona in even more trouble by saying it was the younger Spaniard that told Leila and the others during the off-season.
Shaking her head, Leila sighed, “you left without telling me, you thought I did not love you back?”
Staring at the steam rising from the bowl of food, you let out a sigh in return of Leila’s sigh.
Leila looked up from where she had been looking at the floor, realising what you had said, what you had finally admitted after leaving Spain so many months ago without really talking to Leila again.
“Excuse me?” Raising an eyebrow, you turned to the Spanish defender.
“Why am I an idiot? For sacrificing my love of Spain to protect myself against the heartbreak of falling in love with my best friend and her not feeling the same way.” You deadpanned, about to fold your arms but Leila reached out, her hands on your hips.
“Because she feels the same way, idiota.”
“She, you, you what?” You spluttered but Leila shook her head, pulling you towards her so you were within almost kissing distance.
“Te amo, idiota.”
“Yo también te amo, Leila.” Biting your lip, your gaze rested on Leila’s lips, returning to her eyes as she smirked, leaning forwards so her lips met yours, your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself. Dinner going cold and forgotten on the counter.
/// hopefully some accurate translations ///
Te echo de menos - i miss you
Gracias - thank you
Sí - yes
Idiota - idiot
Te amo - i love you
Yo también te amo - i love you too
Hi can you do skz reaction to there s/o skipping meals if you haven't already thank you ❤️
stray kids reaction to their s/o skipping meals
genre: hurt / comfort, slight angst
warnings: mentions of food, skipping meals, indicated eating disorder - reader's discretion is advised!
would be really concerned. he's prone to not taking care of himself as much in the past, so he sees the signs of you not taking care of yourself in certain aspects of your lifestyle. he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable by bringing it up, but he keeps a close eye on you. every time you visit him in the studio, for instance, and he hears your stomach rumbling, knowing you haven't eaten, he will suggest having a lunch date together <3
he knows. he just knows. his mind is automatically occupied with your health and he constantly asks you if you have eaten well. you lie to his face and he knows it. a frown would appear on his features as he realises this is more than just a little habit of yours. will always encourage you to eat well and stay healthy. physically feeds you. "go 'ah' " and opens his mouth wide for you to mimic him because he loves babying you :(
it's when he can't think of the last time you actually ate a meal... yeah, then he starts to clock onto it. he will have you still down with him and have a serious conversation about it because all he wants is for you to be healthy and happy, and with you skipping meals, it is clear you are not either of those things. the subject gets him quite emotional because he wants to take all your problems away all at once but he knows he can't :(
at first, when you reject his offer to get some food for you, he doesn't think much of it. but then it happens again. and again. and then again. and soon he's got alarm bells ringing in his brain as he realises you go on days without having a full meal. he makes sure you know how much he loves you and how against this he is. because he just wants you to be happy with yourself and not have the need to feel empty.
jisungie would get super pouty when he notices you reject his food offers despite your stomach rumbling like a volcano. he'll gently be holding you close and feed you himself, or at least get you to try a little bit of his meal. baby steps. he's extremely gentle and caring in this situation; he definitely knows not to push you too far or hard, seemingly to find the right balance between soft and stern.
felix knows too. he's struggled with food in the past. so he knows almost immediately that you have a problem. he can relate to what you're going through which makes him the perfect person to talk to you about this and help you through it. he hates seeing you struggling with eating and feeling bad about yourself. his main goal in life is for you to be happy and confident in yourself, and he's not going to rest until that happens.
seungmin's go-to date idea is simply going to a restaurant or staying in, to get a takeaway. he can be a traditional guy, so why not? however, each time he suggests doing something like this, you always turn it down, saying something along the lines of you not being comfortable. seungmin's prying eyes seem to get you to end up telling him that you've been skipping meals. he'll hold your hand and listen to your reasonings, telling you he's going to support you through this.
jeongin it's a lot. and he remembers a time when you used to indulge his behaviour by eating a good meal yourself. he made sure you were well fed, never hungry. but nowadays, you struggle to eat a small snack, let alone a big meal. seeing you go from eating a healthy, normal amount to barely anything at all breaks his heart. he will mention it a couple of times, but most of the time he's coming up with ways to try and feed you.
skz taglist: @hearts4sungie, @seokshineswiftie, @alyszaen, @jtrstp, @a-wandering-stay, @hyungenie5, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @chammak-challokys, @whatisnttakenbynow
— gif credits to the owner
summary: in which aaron comforts the reader who’s mentally exhausted.
— for @my-mummy-dust (who also helped me write this )
there was no other way to describe it, other than you were off. over the course of the last few days, you began to feel empty on the inside — like you were the shell of the person you used to be.
there was no explanation for it, nor did you know when it started. although, you were sure if you asked spencer, he’d provide you with a lengthy answer, which on any other day, you’d laugh at his absurdity, but not even his ridiculous facts could fix you.
you knew that your team would catch on quicker than you’d want them to, seeing as they were profilers. you knew they would catch onto how distant you’d become, conversation or team meetings. how you weren’t as aware of your surroundings while on the field. but one of the things that all of them noticed the most was how your personality, so bubbly and cheerful it was contagious, was now gone. leaving nothing but a dull, disconnected person in its wake; who just so happened to be their teammate who they loved so deeply.
when you were alone, you’d think about how something like this would cost you your job — they’d see how you were unfit for the role, and take away the only thing that you could keep ahold of. you seemed to have lost interest in all your hobbies, them seeming more like a chore, rather than something you enjoyed.
you snapped out of your head when you heard your name being called for the third time,
“yeah? sorry derek.” you smiled apologetically.
“don’t worry about it, i was just asking if you got anything for the profile.”
you hummed, pulling a chair out for him to sit with you, as you shared your ideas.
just before he got up to leave he said, “hey, you know you can talk to us, right? if anything’s going on, we’re here for you. all of us.”
you felt so guilty. they probably thought they did something wrong, and you were pulling away from them because of it. you wished you could tell him why you were like this, how you weren’t doing it on purpose, it just happened.
“i know, thank you.”
he gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, when he left.
hotch had instructed the team to take a break, and clear your heads for a bit, so you could see the case with a fresh set of eyes.
it was him who worried the most, but the worry was always from afar, too afraid to come close, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pouring his heart out. he didn’t want to put you in a compromised position. what he felt for you, wasn’t right — a boss should never feel like that for his subordinate.
yet, that never stopped him from doing those little things for you: making sure your favourite snacks were stocked in the break room, he always bought the specific brand of pens that you liked, when he went out to buy his own. in the summer months, he’d leave a smoothie and a baked good on your desk, every monday, because he knew you found it hard to sleep with the heat, and were extra grouchy in the morning.
even if you didn’t know who it was, you still left thank you notes for them to find. they warmed aaron’s heart, and never failed to bring a smile to his lips — he kept all of them.
“hey, hotch, could you pass this to (y/n), please?”
he nodded as he took two cups from jj, and made his way over to you.
upon hearing a cup being placed on the table, you looked up at your boss, while muttering a small ‘thanks’ to him. he smiled in return, looking around for others, before taking the seat next to you. “i.. um.. i noticed you’ve been acting a little distant lately.” he started, voice hushed, as he stuttered to find the right words; before he could continue, he was interrupted by you apologising profusely, saying that you didn’t mean for it to affect your work. he quickly reassured you, “no. it’s not about work, your work is fine. i just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”
“i’m fine, hotch.”
he raised his eyebrows a little, “okay, i just- if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, my door is always open.”
your touch burned a fire in him, that he had no desire of putting out. “thanks, but i’m fine.”
reluctantly, he moved his arm out of your hand and left the room.
later that night, you stared blankly up at the dark ceiling, trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but it was like your eyes were glued open — no sign of sleep present.
becoming frustrated with yourself, you sighed. why couldn’t you sleep? you didn’t understand what was wrong, why your body refused to listen.
sitting up, you began to feel the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes — you weren’t upset, so, why were you crying?
in his room, aaron was pacing, back and forth. his interaction with you was replaying in the back of his mind, and he cringed at his own words.
my door is always open? he was so out of it.
pinching the bridge of his nose, “what an idiot.” he murmured.
a quick knock on the door, pulled him from his thoughts,
“does the offer still stand?” you asked, the look on your face shifting from a frown to hopeful, when the door was opened.
“yeah, come in,” he moved, “do you need anything? a drink? something to eat? i can order something.”
you shook your head, whilst following him to the couch. “then talk to me,” he spoke, “(y/n). what’s wrong?” he longed to reach over and intertwine your fingers, thinking about how your hands would fit into each other perfectly.
“that’s the thing.. i don’t- i don’t know. i don’t know why i’m like this, aaron.” when your gaze met his, he saw the confusion and the anger that lingered in your eyes. “i’m pulling away, but i don’t mean to. i can’t focus, i can’t do anything, and i don’t know why.” you cried, “there’s something wrong with me.”
somehow, you wound up in his arms, head resting against his chest, as you broke down.
“sometimes, there’s no explanation for the stuff that goes on in your mind. we can’t make sense of why we’re acting the way that we are, and we don’t need to.” he began running his hand up and down your back, “what we need, is to fix it, in whatever way is best for us.”
for a while, you two stayed in the same position, not speaking a word, whilst you settled.
“hotch?” you whispered, eyelids getting heavy.
“where do you get those smoothies from?”
his breathing hitched, and his eyes widened slightly.
“i had a feeling it was you,” he didn’t have to look to know that you were smiling; that thought alone made his cheeks tint a soft pink. “i’m glad it was.” you added on, pulling him down to lay next to you on the couch, your breath tickling his neck.
his back would be killing him the next morning, but he didn’t have it in him to care.
aaron would endure all the pain in the world, if it meant that he had the chance to have you sleep next to him every night.