#either for me to get on his good graces and somehow get him to raise my grade

[minglana]

going to exam revision, light some candles, cross some fingers, pray, etc for me😭😭😭

[iplayghoul]

𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁. 𝗼𝗻𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗼𝗽𝗼𝗻

warnings: mentions of weed, reader is a dealer, black coded reader, strangers hooking up 🤭, squirtinggg, i like the word cock, sum dick in there too. pussy is refered to as a 'she', use of 'ma' and 'mama', p in v, thumb in ass shit, oral (f & m receiving), use of the n word

word count: 2.4k

notes: its ony's birthday! 🎂 ive come out my cocoon to deliver this delish lil smut for yall🤭 please enjoy, i havent written smut full out in a bit so! comments, rbgs wit comments all appreciated mwah

"𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝘂' 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱? 𝗣𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗱𝗿𝘆?" 𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗱. "𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁."

"In five minutes? Oh yea', Con' I'mma do 'em up for you, real good. Mhm, you lucky Sash' my girl." Glossy lips smacked as you ended the call with Connie. Tossing your phone on your bed and heading to the small office space in your apartment. Various tools were laid out across the table. Humming a little, your lavender bunny slippers shuffling as you enter, you hook the handles of two pink glittery packets on your acyrlics. You weighed the packets again and checked the information Connie messaged you. According to Connie, his best friend 'Ony' wanted some good strains you were selling, so of course he hits you up to get the packs for his friend.

Your doorbell went off once, hurrying you to hop down the stairs, holding down your braless, pierced tits behind the thin strapped tank you had on. You peeped at who was outside your apartment, staring for a long two seconds at the buff, darkskinned man with a nose piercing and a fade. The white wife-beater paired with a grey hoodie that matched his sweats, ain't do his muscles justice either! Bejewled teeth bite back against your lips, and you swing the door open, slightly pulling your care bear themed shorts down. His lips grabbed your attention immediately.

Actually, you had to take in his presence quick. His bottom lip was a pretty pink and his top lip dark. His hands were big and so was the broadness of his shoulders. He looked a little nervous too. "You Con's boyfren'?" His lips curled a bit, "Fuck did that nigga tell you ma?" Shit. He spoke so softly you could barely hear what he had to say, only the low base of his voice helped you hear him. You bounce onto your other leg, swallowing hard, "'M just teasin', you 'Ony'?" He licked his lips and hummed with a nod, "Yea, 's Onyankopon." Not one for small talk? "Yea, come in n' lemme get it for you." You eye him and try your hardest to make small talk as he puts his hands up on your door frame, you already had to look up to see his face.

The packets were in the pockets of your shorts, really, with free stickers in 'em too! But you were not about to fumble some potentially lethal dick. You gulp feeling the softness of his body brush against yours as he accepts your invite in, the music from your speakers gracing his ears as you follow him to the living room. You pat the couch for him to sit and walk to the half bath, wasting a few seconds to 'get the packets'. With each interaction you became increasingly aware of what you were wearing. You peeped in the mirror and the heart shaped print of your nipple piercings becoming more prominent.

"Ya'know, youn' really talk dat much... or loudly, do you?" You shuffle back into the living room. He rubs above his lips and manspreads, hands moving to rest beneath the band of his sweats. "If I'm bein' deadass, I'ain got much to say, Con' ain't tell me you was cute ma. Ion really ever like raising my voice eitha'." Somehow, your body temperature just kept going up and your eyes kept drifting back to his lips. You plop down onto the couch, "You got a bitch ri-now?" He leans his head back against your couch and your peer at the way his lips purse out, and his adam's apple bobs. He seemingly manspreads wider, his large build making your couch cushions seem tiny. "Nah, why?" "Jus' wonderin'." Your lips began to feel shaky with every word. The entire encounter was like a meaningless dance around the elephant in the room. And fuck, you were gonna' fuck Constance punk ass up when this night was over. "So listen, I can give you the packets now, 'n you can pay me," You toss the packets onto the coffee table, his eyes remain trained on you. "Or, you c'n getcho dick wet." You mumbled, eyes drifting to connect with his.

A sharp inhale and you see the way his eyes open slightly to peak at you. Fat thighs squeezed together as you sat back with your socked feet up on the couch. "Don't that sound good, Onyankopon?" The way his chest rose with his breaths paused for a minute, reveling in hearing your sweet voice utter his name. His hands push further into his sweats, giving his dick a few long strokes before slipping it out his sweats. It was heavy, so heavy that he held it up for you and let it rest on his wife beater, on his belly button. Being the 'pretty dick' fiend you were meant you needed him in your mouth, immediately.

Quickly lurching forward, you press glossy lips to his pretty cock. His dusted pink tip was fat, and as his dick got darker down the shaft so did it get fatter. The nigga was HUNG, and you could mearly slide your tongue around the circumference of his cock head.

"C'mon mama, do watchu wanna do." It was enough incentive for you to swallow his dick down, relishing in the way it squished down your throat as your held your breath. With each stroke that relieved your airway you took a breath, folding your lips in to glide across his cock as globs of spit dribble across the shaft. You slurp and gag a little with each slip of his dick in your mouth, his hips gyrate and buck up. Ony keeps his eyes on you. Frowning as he interlocks his hands behind your neck, stuffing and forcing your face down on his cock. His head drops back against the couch, fucking his dick up into your mouth with heavy groans filling the room, even above the slow beats of your music. You needed him to tear your shit up within the next two seconds before you start to go crazy.

"Fuck, take all dat shit off, ma." Ony grips your jaw as he pulls you off his dick, spit dripping down your chin and lips plumped up. You wobble on your knees to stand up and undress yourself while he shrugs off his hoodie and wife beater. Tattoos decorated his pecs and arms, the dark ink prettily accentuating his melanin. He nods his head to the side, "Lay back right there, pretty." Plump pink lips pout a little but you follow his directions regardless, laying back into the cushions and spreading your legs. "Ain't nun' wrong with puttin' it in dry," you mutter below your breath when his lips connect with your clit. He mumbles something like 'don't piss me off' and his tongue is all over you.

His hands are big enough to grip the entire spread of your thigh, forcing your leg back as he worked his tongue in circles around your clit, sloppily spitting through your folds and caressing your hole with his tongue. He ate it like a starving man, his frowning and groaning into you growing more frequent as he pushes his face deeper. Your nails ghost the back of his neck, feeling the vibrations of his groans while the other played with your nipple. He tilts his head at an angle, flattening his tongue against your clit and you flinch, the electric pleasure shooting through your tummy and he smiles.

"Right there?" He peers up at you just as your eyes started springing tears. He bites down on his lips, and gives your clit a few kisses. You gasp and start pushing on his shoulders, understanding where he was going . Ony, undisturbed, curls his tongue into your clit, sucking and spitting on your cunt and maintaining the angle. Your tummy begins to tighten, clit pulsing with every lick, holding your breath and arching up into him. A sharp smack on your clit forces a cry out of you, "Stop holdin' yo' breath or imma' leave you right here," Fuck. You let out exasperated breaths as you desperately gyrate your hips into his mouth. Your clit, swollen and fat started to feel almost numb, you can't help but slap his shoulders and whine. "Shit, shit, shit— Ony, that's enough." It only edges him on, sucking up your creamy releases and forcing himself impossibly closer to you. You head was already pressed up against the armrest leaving you no escape, eyes rolling in different directions and mouth agape. Ony's mouth is latched onto you, bouncing your entire body into the couch cushions. You could only moan 'yes, yes, yes' with each rocking of your clit in his mouth.

Your toes curl and you're pushing his head into your pussy, chasing a bigger release than the one you just had. "Fuck, yeah, eat it just like that, baby," Your grip on everything begins to loosen and your lower body feels like static; milky slick squirts out of you as your body begins to relax and you hold Onyankopon's head in place as he drinks it all up. "You're fucking insane," You huff out at him when he lifts his head up to look at you, your release dripping off his nose and chin. "Watchu' said? Put dat shit in dry?" he rasped. "Turn over and put yo leg up on the seat." You give a start and look at him, feeling a mess.

"You not gon' let me recover, bitch?" He licks his lips and sits up on his knees, grabbing your ass like he was preparing to put you in position if you didn't do it. Consistently maintaining eye contact. "Don't call me no bitch," You hear him say low, "And turn the fuck over," He gives your ass a hard shove. You flop over onto your stomach, arching your ass up for some backshots, before sitting up to pull your right leg from out under you and kicking it up onto the top of the couch. You feel your inner thigh burn from the near split position, gripping onto the arm of the couch. Ony's fingers toy with your cunt and spreads you about the length of his dick, pumping it a few times before moulding circles around your clit with his tip: movements calculated. "Shit," You mumble softly, noticing the ever-increasing slip of your pussy. He slows the teasing of your clit, a large hand gripping your ass and pushing you down simultaneously. He lets his tip catch your sopping entrance, pushing in slightly and ignoring your whines as he basks in the wetness pressinh on his tip. "Ony stop playin' 'n put that shit in, God." He pulses his tip back and forth, slowly sinking deeper but not deep enough for you to even get two inches of his cock.

He whispers something lowly and you're unable to hear him. Just as you opened your mouth to ask 'Watchu sayin' nigga?', so did it hang open when he stuffed his full length into you swiftly. "Holy fuck," Was all you could force out of your mouth, his girth pushing against your walls as he sit in it. His hand spreads your ass and you feel him sink his thumb into your ass, his grip on you tightening. Your eyes already start rolling back into your head with the slight movements of his dick in you while he shifts to adjust his knees on the couch. You grip the couch hard and press your head against it when he starts using your ass to gain leverage, momentum.

"Think you c'n take sum fat dick?" Onyankopon mutters above you, the hand with his thumb in your ass slowly dragging you off his cock and back. "Yeah, yeah, gimme— gimme whatever you want, baby." You swallow, attempting to comprehend his question amidst the aching of your pussy that hungrily slobbered all over his dick. Maintaining the slow drag, he reaches down with his other hand to grip your neck, giving you a few tugs to manhandle you into a comfortable groove; before finally hammering his hips into your ass.

Ony groans and curses low while you struggle to hold onto the couch, his strong arms on your neck, forcing your ass back onto him. "Fuck! fuck— fuuuck, Ony," You let out a sob with each stroke he put on you, feeling incredibly full with just his thumb and girth combined. Your pussy was spread and aching around him, slippery and loud and nasty. "Fuck— she talkin' to me?" Onyankopon grins above you and only snaps his hips down into your ass harder, letting it sting. Your pussy was dripping, strings of slick falling from your cunt onto the couch and dripping down to tickle your sensitive clit with each stroke.

You were a mess, with every curse and 'ah!' came drool spilling from your mouth, slobbering about the couch and spreading it down to your fattened nipples. Your hand toyed with the piercing and you only felt more full, your tummy swelling more with each invasion of his dick against your walls. "C'mon take it, take it," Ony removes his hand from your neck to slap your ass hard, forcing his other thumb deeper in you, moving the other to play with your clit. White, foamy, release plops down like whipped cream onto his fingers as he rapidly and roughly guided them around your swollen clit. The same realese making his cock hot and melting in your pretty pussy, coating his every inch and forcing low moans out of him. "Ain't this watchu wanted? My dick wet as fuuuck, mama," You moan back some unintelligible response, you could barely hear the words coming out his mouth. Your entire being was totally focused on the way you began to tremble and squirt small spurts of cum gliding down your legs.

Onyankopon holds you still, hiking one of his legs up and fucking into you unimaginably deeper, sloppier, nastier. You squeal and grab his hand that's at your clit, slapping his arm and biting the softness of the couch's limb while your cry and whine. Ony ignores your attempts to tap out amidst the convulsing of your legs and hard quivering of your body. Your head was pounding now and you go completely blank for a split second, your full releases forcing itself out of you for the second time without your consent, in thick streams.

Your gasps and desperate as you attempt to get yourself together, all while Onyankopon can't help but nut deep in you before pulling out and slapping your clit a few final times with his dick. Your body refuses to move from the complicated position, Ony silently pulls your leg off the seat and carefully moves you onto your back. He wipes some tears off your fucked out face, hesitating before getting up and digging in your fridge for water before returning with two bottles. He opens one for you, feeding you the cold comfort that soothes your thoat while you hold onto his wrist.

"You straight?" He asks before leaning to dig in the pockets of his sweats and pull out a bit if cash. "Mhm," was all you could muster, watching him throw the money on the table before grabbing his phone. "Shit," He half grumbles with a soft chuckle before showing you the bright screen. Six missed calls from Connie.

[faeriichaii]

hi!! i’ve never requested smth before but your writing is so good im gonna give it a shot💫 could i request a legolas x human reader where she somehow accidentally touches his pointy ears not knowing that they’re sensitive for elves and legolas asks her to keep doing it (fluff/like half smut more like teasing maybe?) and legolas is just this soft baby who begs her for her touch 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Sensitive ~ Legolas x Human!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much!! You're like so sweet <33 Oh that sounds very interesting 🤭 I like the idea!! I think I once read like one with a bunch of the elves where the reader accidentally touches their ears and like!! So I hope you enjoy the story <33 (and ngl I was so close to turn it into a smut rip)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff, lil bit smut (if you squint your eyes) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 875 ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Aini Nin ~ My Angel ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Gi Melin ~ I love you ࿐ྂ

Summary: You knew that Legolas could endure quite a lot, but what you did not expect is his reaction to touching his pointy ears

You loved keeping watch during the night. Everything seemed so calm and quiet and it was the only time of the day where you really get the chance to be by yourself. Where you get the chance to think about everything that happened so far and everything that still has to come. Sometimes Legolas joins you during your watch times. These were your favourite moments with him. You always have the most wonderful talks and share your thoughts with each other.

Being alone with him fills you up with joy and warmth. One could almost say you get drunk by his intoxicating charm that he shares specifically with you. Both of you were once more sitting on the logs, around a fire that has been put out for quite some time now, talking about the future ahead. “Do you think your father will like me?” You suddenly asked him, using a stick to draw a heart onto the dirt beneath you. “There is no way he could not. He will adore you as much as I do Aini Nin.”

A bashful smile graced your lips, as you wrote your initial, as well as his into the heart. “I can’t wait to meet your hometown my love. And your father. I want to see everything and get to know all about Mirkwood.” Looking up at him, you caught him already staring at you. His eyes were shining with love and care for you. “And I wish to visit your hometown. Learn all about your family and the customs you share.”

His arm snaked around your waist, in order to pull you into his warm side. Dropping the stick you used for your small drawing, you leaned into him. “Do you think we should take Gimli with us?” A laugh escaped Legolas lips at the thought of the dwarf running around the palace grounds. “I think that would either end up in multiple deaths or banishment on his side.” Chuckling at his response, you leaned your head onto his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“I love you.” You said, gazing up at him lovingly. “Gi melin, Meleth Nin.” He gave you a soft kiss on the lips, which you immediately reciprocated. You still were looking at him, shining in the moonlight like an angel sent from heaven, as you noticed one of his braids getting loose. “Oh Legolas, can I re-braid your hair?” “Of course.” With that you stood up to take your place on his lap. His hands gently laid on your waist, as you undid his hairdo.

“I wish I had soft hair like you do.” You said, brushing your fingers through his white strands. “Your hair is already perfect as it is Aini Nin.” He softly whispered, as he leaned into your touch. A gentle smile graced your lips. Quickly giving him a loving kiss on his temple, you resumed your work on his hair. Parting the strand into a few sections, you began to weave your fingers through them. The quietness of the forest was interrupted, as Legolas let out a hitched breath. You raised an eyebrow at the sound that escaped him but continued to braid his hair.

His hands tightened around your hips, as your fingers accidentally brushed against his ear. You noticed that his ears slowly gained a red colour by the tips. A smirk played on your lips, as you let your hand brush against his pointy ear once more. Legolas let out another shaky sigh. “Are you alright my love?” You asked him, playfulness evident in your words. “Yes, it’s just… my ears. They are sensitive.” A little giggle left your lips, as you abandoned the braid and instead focused on his ear. You gently let your fingers trail along the pointy form. The elf underneath you let out a soft whine at your touch, slightly leaning into your hand.

His breathing got ragged, hips also moving up into you while pressing you down on him. “Should I stop Meleth Nin?” You innocently asked, playing with the tip of his ear. “No, please. Don’t stop.” A whine followed his words, as you put your other hand around his other ear, massaging both of them equally. Warmth spread through your body at the sounds that escaped your lover underneath you. The elven prince tried his best to keep as subtle and quiet as possible, in order to not wake up the others around you. “Do you love it when I play with your beautiful elven ears?” “Yes.” His breathy answer was muffled, as he hid his face in your neck. “Please don’t stop.” He whispered, giving you a gentle kiss on the exposed skin. Legolas cheeks were rosy and so were your own. You knew that elves could endure quite a lot, but you did not expect them to have wobbly knees after just a touch to the ears.

Suddenly you stopped your little ministration, making the prince underneath you whine sadly. “I am sorry my love, but you don’t want to wake the others now, do you?” You said, smirking slightly at his flustered expression. His hands tightened around your waist, as he brought you closer. His warm breath hit your ear. “You are going to regret this.”

[sunburstl0v3]

CHAPTER TWO

✿ Ken x Fem. Reader x Barbie ✿

SUPER SHY

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 떨리는 지금도, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺

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The two chatted with each other while they walked to Barbie's Dream House, and quickly reached their destination. The whole house was packed with all kinds of Barbies and Kens. Music pumping and dancing could be seen from the entrance, "Aw! Don't tell me were late!" Ken suffered, letting go of [Y/n] and running towards the house, making sure he got to Barbie.

Which left [Y/n] all alone.

[Y/n] glanced down at her heels, how they somehow hurt her toes on the inside. And was this dress even flattering for her? [Y/n] pulled on the dress slightly, feeling tight in the wrong places, "Even though we had the same body...it didn't make a difference." She mumbled, walking towards the party.

Ken was right, there were flashing lights, Barbies cheering and dancing while Kens stood and watched. [Y/n] was mesmerized, by the way Barbies moved their bodies and danced all in sync, a smile graced her lips, as she bobbed her head lightly to the music.

"Hi, Barbie!" [Y/n] spotted Ken, the Ken she had just met, trying desperately to grab her attention, "Hi! Barbie!" he waved over again, either being ignored or she literally couldn't see him in her dance. But while [Y/n] watched Ken being ignored another person came up to her, "Hi I'm Allan."

The [e/c] eyed woman looked over and found a man with brown hair, and suspenders, which she couldn't help but eye at, "Allan? Oh, you're Ken's best friend." Allan nodded, simply proud of that fact. "Oh yeah. Oh, but anyways welcome to Barbie Land." Allan grinned, and [Y/n] hummed.

"Thank you, it's been great so far." [Y/n] had no clue if that statement was even true or not, but oh well. Allan looked back to the dance floor, "You'll get used to it, all the dancing I mean."

"No, like I get it. How could you not if you're not Barbie." [Y/n] replied, nodding along, the music starting to get a bit annoying... Allan sighed, "I get it like, not being a Barbie or Ken." Allan ruffled his brown hair, but it just fell back down to his normal natural look. [Y/n] couldn't help but eye that as well.

"But you have a title, I suppose." [Y/n] pointed out, "Ken's Best Friend." She used her fingers to use quotation marks. Allan huffed, "Yeah but not just Allan,"

At least you're somebody, right?

Allan was technically right, but how would [Y/n] know, "I guess you're right. But I would be really happy with that title." [Y/n] frowned, unnoticed by Allan. "I'm just...[Y/n]."

Did I just make it awkward? [Y/n] pondered, biting her lip, glancing back at Allan it seemed he didn't care, he was unphased, "So what do you do at parties, like this?" [Y/n] finally asked, Allan grinned, "We dance, sometimes Barbie sings, and then afterward the Barbies have a sleepover, and we all leave."

That was exactly what Ken said, [Y/n] raised an eyebrow looking back at the dance circle. "Are they just playing the same song again?"

"I know right, it's so good!" Right. This was all a bit overwhelming for [Y/n], what happens after? If they were right and [Y/n] wasn't a Barbie and definitely didn't have a Dream House, where would she go now.

Not used to this feeling of dread, [Y/n] excused herself and made her way to the punch table. [Y/n] carefully moved through the crowds, quietly saying "Excuse me." which went unheard. [Y/n]'s eyebrows furrowed, and she pushed harder through the crowd, earning some bizarre looks in the process.

Finally, she made it to the table and grabbed a pink champagne glass, filling it up with punch, (which was invisible). [Y/n] gulped down the drink and slammed it down. The [s/c] woman looked back into the crowd, seeing some Kens dancing with some Barbies now.

Turning to the right, [Y/n] faced back with Ken, the Ken. He was leaning against the house, a pink glass in his head. Swallowing a few nerves, [Y/n] strutted over to him, he was the only one she was familiar with.

"Hi, Ken." [Y/n] spoke softly, surprising Ken slightly, "Hi [Y/n]. Enjoying the party?" Ken smiled back, standing up straight now.

"Yeah, it's going good?" She answered, "If standing around watching the Barbies dance the whole time is good then I'm having a fantastic time." Ken giggled, her [e/c] eyes snapped to Ken's face, "Isn't is awesome!" Ken replied.

Ken glanced back over at Barbie, as did [Y/n], "I just wished she would pay more attention to me." [Y/n] hesitantly nodded, peeping back to Ken's face. Ken's blue eyes sparkled against the moonlight; his eyes held so much devotion.

"Does every Ken feel like this?" [Y/n] asked, rolling her head slightly over. The blond paused, taking in a breath, "Of course, all Kens love Barbie." Ken faced the [h/c] surprising her in the moment.

"Maybe you'll find a Ken!" He gasped, making [Y/n] snicker lightly, "Maybe. And maybe Barbie will actually pay attention to you." Ken laughed at her joke(?). [Y/n] gazed up into the sky, the stars shined brightly as did the moon, "Can I say something?" she muttered, but Ken nodded, only half listening as he ruffled his hair in hopes Barbie looks at him.

"Even though this party is for me...it doesn't feel like it." [Y/n] uttered, dumbfounding Ken. "What do you mean it doesn't feel like it's for you?" Ken responded, "Cause you haven't danced, like at all!" [Y/n] frowned, as he was partly right, she didn't even do anything but drink and talk.

"Oh but...I can't dance." [Y/n] explained but Ken was not buying it, "Oh come on! I'll help you." the [s/c] cheeks warmed, "It's... It's alright! You don't have to; I was just being stupid. Of course, this party is for me!" [Y/n] cleared up but without warning, Ken grasped on to her arm and pulled her out to the dance floor.

[Y/n] mouth was left agape, and her eyes blew open in surprise as Ken lead the two of them to the dance floor, "Ken what are you doing!?" She whispered shouted, pushing past Kens and Barbies.

In a second the two of them jumped on the dance floor, startling the Barbies and Ken's Barbie who looked at them with confusion, "Don't mind us!" Ken laughed, pulling [Y/n] closed to him, "Just follow my lead." He grinned, grasping her hand.

[Y/n] gasped as Ken began to dance, she began to learn some of the moves and started to dance the same way Ken as did the other Barbies. [Y/n] moved her hips to the rhythm and jumped, it was so much fun.

As the song ended, [Y/n] couldn't stop herself from laughing, clutching her stomach, "That was so much fun!" [Y/n] chuckled, turning around to face Ken.

"Hi, Barbie!" Ken waved ecstatically at Barbie who was giggling with the other Barbies, but then she looked behind her. A giant smile graced her pink lips, "Hi Ken!" she waved back.

Huh?

"Um, Hey Ken!" [Y/n] tapped him on the shoulder, but Ken didn't turn, instead, he walked over to Barbie and started talking to her, something about being boyfriend/girlfriend.

Oh um.

[Y/n] turned around, her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. She bit the side of her cheek and walked away from the dance floor back to her original spot.

Her hands curled around the ends of her dress, and she held on tightly for whatever reason, she felt insecure.

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[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A FRESH START [20]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, mentions of death experiences, anxiety, PTSD references

Word Count: 5,066

Updates every Thursday

#20: SHORT STICK BEARS HIS WRATH

.

"you can't heal if you pretend you're not hurt." -aliza grace

.

Grogu had a habit of making friends wherever he went. So, it didn’t surprise Din to see that a bulk of Ari’s crew were gushing over his son and offering him different things to play with. After parking the N1 and walking to the address Ari messaged him, what looked like an old fighting gym, he entered to see a small group of people surrounding Grogu who stood on the table and babbled. They listened intently, cooed back to him, and offered him a variety of objects to either eat or play with.

Din’s eyes landed on Ari who was sitting in a desk chair, feet kicked up and ankles crossed, while frowning at the sight. When her gaze drifted toward him she blew out an annoyed breath of air. “Finally. Can you please take your son and go? It seems while he’s around my crew is,” Ari turned to yell out the next words at the people surrounding Grogu, “Incapable of doing their kriffing jobs!”

“The stressors of running a criminal empire.” Din snorted.

“Aw, you think my little show is an empire?” Ari grinned impishly. “That’s cute. I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ve reached that level of notoriety yet.”

“Yeah, well, I have faith in you.”

Din knew her main skill set was in smuggling. He assumed that’s what she was still doing, just branching out and roping others in. Still, Din wasn’t too worried about breaking up her party or shining a spotlight down on her. Of all the evil Din had seen in the galaxy, Ari was harmless. Well, mostly harmless.

“Hey boss, can we keep it?” A large man turned and pointed to Grogu who had his hands up in the air as he babbled about a story.

“Him, you idiot.” Ari corrected. “It’s Mando’s son.”

“Oh, sorry.” The man replied. “Can we keep him?”

“See what I mean? Useless.” Ari scoffed. Din called out for Grogu who took the time to gather up all the snacks being offered to him then jumped into his pram to drift over. Ari crossed her arms and snapped for the others to get back to their jobs. They gradually drifted away. She looked at him. “So? How’s the doc?”

Din tilted his head. “Left him thirty minutes outside the city to crawl back.”

“That all?”

“I may have…” Din chose his words carefully. “Stacked the odds against him.” Ari chuckled in amusement and he nodded. “I need you to keep an eye on that for me.”

“How so?”

“Make sure there’s a corpse, and if there isn’t,” Din shrugged nonchalantly, “Make one.”

The request rolled off his tongue as if he were in Nevarro going to his neighbor’s house to ask for some sugar. Din saw no issue in his request. If he wasn’t on such a time crunch in his eagerness to return to you then he’d stick around and double check for himself. 

Ari nodded. “Alright. I’m counting that as two favors now though. So, you owe me.” Din dragged his helmeted gaze to look at her and raised an eyebrow in skepticism as if she’d be able to see. Ari read the tone enough to snicker. “Fine. Fine. We’re even then.”

“Deal.”

“So,” Ari whistled, “If you and your ‘not wife’ ever tie the knot will I get invited to the wedding? Do Mandalorians have weddings?” 

“Stop talking.” Din shook his head and turned to leave. He chuckled under his breath. Grogu followed after him⏤ the child’s cheeks full of some local dessert. Great, now he’d be bouncing around the cockpit of the N1 for Maker knows how long.

Ari called a good-bye after him as he left. “Nice seeing you too, Mando! Safe travels!”

Nima told you not to freak out. Her exact words had been, ‘Alright, everything is okay and you are safe and it’s all going to be fine but you need to know this’. Your first horrific thought was that the news would somehow involve your boys. It had been a knee jerk fear that filled your entire soul with dread. Then Nima followed it up with, ‘Kurt’s trial was put on hold’.

And, as wild as it was, you felt relief. That had been your initial reaction. Before Nevarro, hearing those words would have made you immediately throw up. But in this situation, all you could think was how grateful you were that the bad news didn’t involve Din or Grogu.

“I’m sorry.” Nima murmured and you could see how devastated she was to share this news with you. She was the kind of person who felt every emotion she had so deeply. It’s why she was so lively and bubbly as her day to day happiness shined through. However, in moments like this, it broke your heart to see her so empathetic to your own pain. “I went back and forth on telling you, but you made me swear to update you on any news I thought was important and this seemed important. Plus, I didn’t want you to hear on accident from somewhere else or⏤”

“Nima.” You reached out to squeeze her arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” The longer the news lingered in your mind the more it began to unravel your sense of peace. “What happened? Do we know why?”

She shook her head. “They won’t report it yet. Just that it’s delayed.”

Could trials be delayed right in the middle of it? You didn’t know a lot about law or the system surrounding it. Nima was rambling about something or another, trying to bring you comfort, but your thoughts drifted away. You wished Din were here. That wasn’t a surprising thought. Every single day since they left, multiple times a day really, you’d see something or think of something that made you crave their presence more than the baseline. Just yesterday you bought a bag of Grogu’s favorite blue cookies from the sandwich shop just for the hell of it. 

You heard your name, mumbled in concern, and your focus snapped back to Nima who was staring at you as if she was waiting for you to crumble. Slowly, you could feel the edges of your nerves beginning to fray, but that’s what work was for right? Distract you from all those dangerous thoughts and fears.

“Seriously. I am okay.” You reassured her once more. “This stays between us, right?”

“Of course.”

Your day carried on as if the news hadn't been shared with you. It would be the one day you wanted to keep busy that all of Nevarro decided to be the picture perfect definition of health. It was in part due to the droid being repaired which took off a lot of lower level urgent cases rather than emergent and it even saw some people with active conditions routinely. That would be it's primary purpose until the new guy that Karga hired eventually got out here.

When you went home for the night, you had only been moving around the kitchen for a few minutes, getting dinner ready, when your com rang for a holocall. You set your armband on the island counter to stand and answer. Grogu’s face immediately filled the entire screen with a loud ‘Ma!’ which pulled a laugh out of you. You needed that. 

“Grogu, share.” Din replied though you could only barely see him behind Grogu’s face.

“No.” Grogu replied simply before he began to babble about his day. He was getting better at expressing himself every day and you were picking up on words like ‘new friends’, ‘more food’, and even something that sounded like he was trying to tell you there was someone he didn’t like. Din sighed loudly, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Uh huh.” You nodded your head, giving the little green boy your full attention, “Tell Ma all about it, baby.” It wasn’t until a solid five to ten minutes later that Grogu was appeased with the amount of attention from you that he was willing to share with his father. He wiggled out of the camera’s space so you could actually see Din, and the boy waved with a quick ‘Love Ma!’. You actually felt your heart tighten in your chest. “Love you too, baby.”

Grogu crawled away, probably to stir up trouble where he could find it on the small ship, and you bit back tears. The longer you sat with the news about Kurt the more you felt wired and anxious. Getting to talk to Grogu and see the cheerful boy made a world of difference.

“Mama’s boy.” You heard Din mutter with a chuckle while watching Grogu crawl away to wherever he went. His gaze quickly focused back on you and he let out a soft sigh. “Ner kar’ta. How was your day?”

“It was fine.” You leaned against the counter.

For the next half hour, you and Din talked about anything and everything. He told you about how the rest of his trip on that Outer Rim planet went, and he told you he dealt with Daelar. Din didn’t give you details on the specific, but you found that you didn’t really need them. You didn’t really care. Then you told him about your day, but gradually the two of you got off topic and trailed on about other things. Din was speaking, you could hear the sound of his comforting voice, but you found yourself accidentally zoning out. Your mind not falling into a specific thought, but just drifting away. It wasn’t until the third time that Din called out to you that you realized he had been doing so in the first place.

“Hm? Sorry.” You shook your head.

Even through a holocall, halfway across the galaxy, you could see the worry that Din wore. He had shifted forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, and there was a tension in his shoulders. If that didn’t give him away then the tilt in his head and the tone of his voice did. “What’s wrong? You’re troubled.” He didn’t ask if you were troubled. He just knew you were. “Tell me. Are you okay?”

“I am. I promise.” You replied. The last thing you wanted to do was worry him. Knowing Din, if you told him about Kurt he would do something drastic like immediately come back to Nevarro. Which, on one hand, was tempting, but it would just mean he’d need to leave again. Plus, you knew how important this mission was to him. You were not going to intercede with your own issues and drama. So, you decided on a lie of omission. “This afternoon there had been a patient with a chronic illness I didn’t remember much of. He was also Rodian and their anatomy is a blur to me. So, it was a lot of research and just working on the fly and I guess my brain just won’t let it go. I’m second guessing myself.”

Din’s entire body relaxed, but he stayed leaned over so he was closer to the camera⏤ closer to you. “Don’t. You’re incredible at what you do and immensely clever when you need to think on the spot.” You felt your cheeks warm at his blatant complements. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the greatest physician in the galaxy.”

You snorted. “Right. And that’s your totally unbiased opinion.” Din nodded. “All that medical knowledge you have makes you an expert in that decision.”

“I have twenty plus years of working a cautery, thank you.” Din replied with a chuckle.

“Yes. Obviously, so qualified.”

“Fine.” Din’s voice took a teasing edge. “You’re the best physician in all of Nevarro. Is that better?”

You let out a loud laugh and just as it had eased your anxious heart with Grogu, Din settled your soul as well.  Din was immensely proud of himself. You could see the smug air about him even through the holocall. When your laughter died down, you rested your chin on your hand to hold up your head.

“I miss you.” You mumbled.

Din sighed. “I miss you too, ner kar’ta. But it won’t be much longer.” You perked up. “I am stopping to speak to an…old friend.” The way he said the words made you doubt that this person was an actual friend⏤ or that the relationship was tumultuous at best. “Then on to Mandalore.”

A soft smile filled your features at the news. 

“Ma! Ma!” Grogu was yelling again as he tried to get into the picture.

Din scooped the boy up to set him on his laugh and playfully scolded. “You had your turn, ad’ika. It’s my turn with Ma.”

“No. Me.” Grogu argued.

You watched in amusement as Din continued to tease Grogu into a silly argument on who got to have your attention. Maker, you needed them back soon.

Ever since Nima shared the news about Kurt, nightmares plagued you. It was an odd mix of past and future. Some nights Kurt would be carving into you, telling you that you didn’t deserve to live, and other nights you’d have to watch helplessly as he hurt Din and Grogu.

You preferred the nights where Kurt made you bleed.

That added to the fact that while on Mandalore Din was not going to be able to call you due to interference really distracted you. Sleep deprived and anxiety riddled while working in a clinic with medical tools was not the ideal combination. The bacta tank needed refreshing in case of emergencies and during a quiet moment in the office you had told Aayla you planned to get it done. It was dirty work, cleaning the bacta filters, but you didn’t mind it. You hoped forward motion, keeping yourself busy, would keep you awake and sane.

So, when your hand slipped on the mechanism, causing the thick filter door to slam shut on your hand, it had been entirely your own fault.

"Fuck!" You screamed in agony as you felt the bones in your fingers snap. Blinded by the panic, your natural instinct was to try to pull your hand out, but the door was closed too tight for it to budge. All it did was send sharp, lightning strikes of pain shooting up your arm.

Aayla was by your side in an instant and she was shouting commands or reassurances at you, but your mind was in a fog. Maybe it was the pain or the exhaustion, but your body slumped forward onto the bacta tank as your vision went black.

It came back seconds later, but you didn’t feel the same. Rather than pain, you felt the telltale sign of something running through your veins to bring you relief. You were also now lying on a cot rather than standing over the bacta tank.

“What are we supposed to do when the doctor needs a doctor?” Mayfeld scoffed. You couldn't see him from where you laid, but his voice was easily recognizable. So was Vanth’s who replied.

“Use the droid.”

“The droid? That’s your solution? Let the kriffing droid work on the woman Mando is head over heels for?” Mayfeld cried. “He’s better about the damn things, but if he heard about this he’d come back to Nevarro just to kill us. Then he’d somehow save our asses from the brink of death just so he can kill us again.” 

You groaned and all your words came out groggily, “Stop talking. Both of you.” There was the sound of steps and suddenly it was Vanth’s face in your vision grinning down at you. “Why are you in here again?”

“Well, because the doc went and got her hand jammed up in some machinery.” Vanth replied. His words reminded you of the injury and you lifted your left hand to see a splint wrapped around your last three fingers. The ring finger was the worst, but all three were discolored and swollen. Vanth’s teasing tone switched to sincerity. “How’re you feeling, little lady?”

“Drugged.” You complained and rubbed your face with your good hand. The lack of pain was nice, but you hated how certain strong medications could make you feel.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld chimed, “That’s the e-bacta shot we gave you.”

“E-bacta??” You scoffed. “Where the hell did you get the e-bacta and why did you bring it into my clinic? That shit is illegal for a reason.” This version of bacta was so potent and strong that it was only one step down from spice, really. Addictive as hell and hard to keep from degrading. “Why did you do that?”

Vanth pointed at your broken hand. “Because that looks kriffing miserable. We’d put you in the tank altogether just to be cautious but we had to break the damn thing to get you unlodged from it.”

“Shit.” You forced yourself to sit up and the room spun. Both men reached out to steady you. “The tank is broken??”

Mayfeld snorted. “Yeah, and so is your hand. Focus on that instead.”

You rubbed your face in a poor attempt to gain some clarity. “Please tell me no one told Mando.”

Maybe he’d still be on Mandalore and there’d be no service for someone to tell him you got hurt. This was just like a few days ago when you learned about Kurt. You couldn’t make Din worry. He needed to focus on his own task and not be thinking about you.

“Told Mando?” Mayfeld cried. “Nobody wants to make the call and tell the indestructible tin can that we let his girl get hurt.”

Vanth shrugged. “We were gonna draw straws later. Us, Karga, Nima, Peli. Short stick has to bear his wrath.” He grinned at you. “But now that you’re up and talking, little lady, looks like we don’t need to do that.”

Mayfeld nodded and pointed at the man. “Yeah, good point. She should tell him. He won’t kill her.”

“Either stop talking or give me more e-bacta.” You grumbled.

Ignoring the well meaning but overbearing men, you cradled your broken hand in your lap. The splint on your hand was decent. You’d need something more permanent, but for a patch job it was solid. The sound of doors sliding open made you glance up to see Aayla fluttering in. She put her hands on her hips with a solid attempt of intimidation.

“I already chased out Nima. Now you two, as well?” 

The men glanced at you and you tilted your head and added. “Go. Don’t tell Mando.” As they neared the door you called out one last time. “And…thanks, guys.”

You did appreciate them and how much they cared. Even if some of that caring just came from a healthy fear of Din. Not that you thought Din would actually hurt either man. They were friends and this had very clearly been your fault.

“Did you do this?” You pointed to your hand and Aayla nodded with a sheepish grin. “It’s good. It’s really good, Aayla.” The woman beamed at your praise and you chuckled. “Did you get any scans yet?”

“Yes. We did.” She brought over a datapad and opened up the program that held all the imaging. You took it from her to look over your own scans and winced. Dank farrik. Hairline fractures on your pinky and middle finger, and an actual break in your ring finger. No wonder you blacked out. “Do we need to get you to a facility? Does your finger need surgical correction?”

You praised her line of thought then shook her head. “The fracture will heal itself once splinted. In order to test the tendons I need the swelling to go down just a bit so I can try moving my finger.”

Aayla stepped away and then returned with a cream and some ice. She got you situated on the cot and lifted the bed so you could lay back without being entirely flat. She was going to be a good doctor one day. After she went through school and all that. You leaned your head against the pillow and shut your eyes. It would be best for you to get some solid shut eye while the e-bacta was in your system. 

Since reaching Mandalore, everything had happened fast. Back to back to back, Din had what should have been considered one of the worst days of his life. Nearly dying three times qualified as a terrible day. However, Din was not dead. More than just not dead, he was redeemed. 

Din Djarin was no longer an Apostate.

He was Mandalorian once more.

That alone could make this a wonderful day, but the knowledge that this meant he could proceed in pursuing you was overwhelming. If he thought about it for too long it’d send him to his knees. The first thing he wanted to do was call you, but that plan was derailed when Imps bombed Bo Katan’s home. Considering the woman had saved his life, and watched Grogu when he was unable, the least he could do was get her to safety. Maybe the covert wasn’t the best place for Bo Katan Kryze, but Din needed to go there anyway so why not use it as a shelter.

As Nima liked to say: two porgs, one blaster.

When everything had settled, the first thing he did was find a quiet spot to call you. Grogu was passed out in his arms and Bo Katan was sitting not too far away in contemplation.

“You alright?” Din questioned.

Bo hummed. “Suppose so. Not how I expected this day to go, but…”

“I’m sorry. About your home.” 

“...Thank you.” Bo said after a beat of hesitation.

Din could tell she was still in distress. Lost in her thoughts. He could’ve pressed further, attempt to help her some more, but it would have to wait. If Din didn’t talk to you right now he’d burst. The excitement of being redeemed mingled with the knowledge that for a brief moment today he thought everything had been over. 

He activated the holocall and leaned against the cave wall. 

When your face appeared on the screen, Din sighed in relief. Being trapped on Mandalore, sending Grogu away, your face had been the last one he thought of. “Ner kar’ta.” He breathed out. Din didn’t even care that Bo was only a few feet away and able to hear his entire conversation. “You are…”

He was going to call her a sight for sore eyes, but you looked more than exhausted. Something was wrong. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and you didn’t have that same glow that Din admired. Before he could question, you spoke, “You can call! That means you’re not on Mandalore anymore, right? How’d it go?”

“I am redeemed.” Din said with pride and despite how tired you look the smile you wore brightened in excitement. You cried out about how happy you were for him and how proud and how much you missed him and couldn’t wait to see him. Hearing that praise from you was somehow better than hearing the Armorer confirm he was no longer an Apostate. Din shook his head, deciding to steer right back to his concern, “You look terrible, ner kar’ta.”

You forced a chuckle. “Exactly what a girl wants to hear.”

“You are the most stunning woman I have ever known, and every day I get to see you, bask in your beauty,  is a blessing I am undeserving of.” Din said sincerely and he watched your face twist in mild embarrassment. Your smile turning cute and sheepish. He grew serious once more. “But right now, you look ill. Hurt. So I will ask again," Din shook his head, "What. Is. Going. On?”

You twisted your lips, weighing pros and cons, and then with a sigh you lifted your right hand so it came into the screen’s view. Din’s eyes widened at the swollen and discolored look of your fingers wrapped in a makeshift split. 

“Me’bana!? Cuyir gar o'r aaray??” Din barked. Grogu stirred briefly in his arms. “Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc!?”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, honey.” You sighed with a small amused smile.

If Din wasn’t so caught off guard and worried about the state of your hand, the nickname that fell from your lips so easily would have made him flush in warmth. Din shook his head. “Are you alright?? What happened?”

“It was stupid.” You shook your head. “Cleaning the bacta tank, I slipped up. Got my hand caught in the filter door.” That wasn’t like you. Typically, you were very cautious and careful with your work. “It looks worse than it actually is, I swear. The swelling has gone down a lot.”

Din narrowed his eyes at your wording. “How much time has passed? When did this happen, ner kar’ta?”

“...Yesterday?” You said it like it was a question.

“Ner kar’ta.”

“Yesterday morning.” You confirmed sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were on Mandalore. No service.”

Din tilted his head, “You tried to hide it at the start of this conversation. If I didn’t press, would you have told me about your accident?” You pressed your lips together and winced. Din blew out a breath of air. “Dank farrik. Ner kar’ta…” 

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You said softly with a frown.

Din shook his head again, keeping his voice firm. “I need to know these things.” The thought that you were injured was staggering, but knowing you could be hurt and keep it from him? All he wanted in life was to protect you. Take care of you. “You need to tell me⏤”

“Why?” Bo suddenly called out loud enough that your face morphed into confusion at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Did you tell her about how you nearly died three times today?”

Din flinched and your jaw popped open. The exhaustion seemed to be wiped away and replaced with a mix of anger and shock. “You what!?” Din began to speak but you cut him off. “You nearly died today!? Din! What the hell is the mystery voice talking about!?”

“Well, it wasn’t⏤”

“You were gonna scold me about my broken hand and not mention multiple near death experiences??” Din winced. That was a fair point. He didn’t see it from that side. The sight of your discolored and swollen digits had blinded him about every other detail of the day. “Din Djarin⏤ Do you have a middle name? I want to yell your entire name at you but⏤ never mind. Just⏤ Maker! Are you alright? Are you safe? Is Grogu⏤”

Din cut in, “Yes. To all of it. Grogu is safe,” He lifted his arm enough that she could see the snoozing boy, “I am safe, I am okay. In fact, I am less injured than you are right now.” He sighed. “And, you’re right. That wasn’t fair of me. I just… I panicked.”

Your gaze softened but the concern remained. “Yeah. I guess… As long as you guys are safe.”

“We are, and we’ll be home soon.” Din promised. Your lips twitched up into a smile. “Who is taking care of you right now?”

You chuckled. “Uh, me?”

Din hummed in displeasure. He should be there to help you⏤ to take care of you. It killed him to be this far from you. A part of him wanted to stand up right now and fly home, but he needed to talk to the Armorer tomorrow. He needed to have something forged.

“Maybe you should stay with Nima…”

“I can take care of myself, Din.” You grinned. “I’m the greatest doctor in the galaxy, remember?” Din chuckled under his breath. “You really are okay, though?”

Din nodded. “I swear to you, ner kar’ta.”

They only spoke for a few more moments because Din was adamant you go to bed even though it wasn’t very late in Nevarro. You just looked so exhausted. Maybe he’d talk to Karga about a vacation. If they got the new physician to move to Nevarro then the city could afford to spare you for a few days. Vanth could stay a little while longer to cover for him. Din just wanted to take you somewhere nice⏤ somewhere relaxing. Though he should probably focus on actually courting you before he starts thinking of honeymoon options.

When the holocall ended, Din glanced over at Bo who simply tilted her head at him. He scoffed, “Really?”

“Seemed like pertinent information.”

“Your hand still looks like shit.”

You glanced up at Nima with a tight lipped smile. “A little rude considering I saved your hand.” She snickered. She wasn’t wrong. The swelling had improved but the bruising still looked Maker awful. Though, with Aayla’s help you were able to get a real splint on it. “I thought you were bringing me lunch.”

“I thought you were going to come with me to lunch.” She argued.

Luckily, the clinic wasn’t busy. So you shrugged out of your white coat, leaving you in just your scrubs, and then followed Nima who was leading the way with a bounce. There had been no further news on the Kurt situation which left you in turmoil. However, Nima had been doing her best to distract you and anytime anxiety did try to wash over you, you just reminded yourself that your boys would be home in the next 48 hours or so. 

“The Razor Crest project is going so well.” Nima clapped her hands. “I mean, we’re still missing some key pieces, but Peli and I are nearly done with the engine rebuild. Can you believe that?” You hummed in interest. It’d be nice to see it eventually. The Crest was such a strong presence in so many of Din’s story and Grogu’s pictures. Obviously, this wasn’t the exact same. Version 2.0, but still. “Peli said⏤”

The sound of a low rumble filled the air. As you, Nima, and all the other citizens standing outside paused to listen to the sound, a large shade began to cover the city. As if the sun was being blocked out. You looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge ship.

“Shit. That’s a Corsair.” Nima mumbled in shock. Just as the words left her mouth, an alarm began to blare loudly and the voice of a droid called for evacuation to the lava fields. You didn't even have a spare second to panic because that’s when blaster fire rained down on Nevarro.

mando'a translations

ner kar'ata: my heart Me'bana?: What happened? Cuyir gar o'r aaray?: Are you in pain? Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc?: How were you injuried?

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis

[chocolatechubby]

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Bernie's Big & Tall

By Fatbrwncub

(posted with the permission of the Author)

The biggest problem--excuse me while I finish this last bite of cruller--is where to begin. It all seems to have happened so fast. One minute I'm standing in the unemployment line, trying to figure out where my next meal is coming from; the next thing you know, I'm getting the doors in my apartment widened so that I can get through. Oops! There goes another button.

Let me go back to the beginning--back to that unemployment line. My lover and I had been having problems making ends meet. There wasn't a great deal of a demand for my particular line of work in the winter---I was a lifeguard. At 6' 2" and 180 pounds, I cut a muscular frame, but everyone looks pretty much the same bundled up in parkas. My old job at the "Y" would probably have hired me back, but the pay stunk. And with a new lover, Sean, I had another mouth to consider. Sean suggested that I try modeling --his chosen profession, but as gorgeous as he was, he wasn't getting much work either. Why should we both be jobless cover boys? So, I headed to the unemployment office. Maybe something there would turn things around. Little did I know how right I was.

The place was depressing. Fluorescent light and peeling yellow walls covered everything like a moldy blanket. Cheap plastic chairs were set up for clients to wait for their turn to be humiliated by the next available counselor: "You'll have to take forms 2 thru 26 to windows 5 thru 14. Fill out lines A thru F on forms 30, 31, & 45; have them notarized and come back to me.... THEN I can tell you where the rest rooms are." As much as I needed the money, I wasn't up for that kind of run around. The YMCA was looking really good at that moment. As I got up to leave, I noticed the chair next to me quiver ever so slightly--as if a tremor were going through the building. The little table next to it was moving too. Now being hundreds of miles away from California, I knew it couldn't possibly be an earthquake. I was wrong. It was indeed an earthquake in human form. From around one of the peeling yellow corners, came the largest guys I had ever seen. His stomach seemed to go on forever, riding over his belt and spilling onto his massive underbelly like a tidal wave. Each of his labored steps made it quiver and roll. His arms, chest, and shoulders were so large that he had to twist his body slightly to maneuver the corner, yet each movement had an elephantine grace that was something to see. He was dressed impeccably in a suit that must have been tailor-made for him: it hung gracefully on his gargantuan figure. He was quite handsome, dusty blonde hair and neatly trimmed beard, and the bluest eyes. Growing up, the party queens I hung with always made fun of fat guys. Somehow, I always found something vaguely attractive about men with extra meat on their bones. I absent-mindedly rubbed my stomach as I watched him make his way to a Job Resource bulletin board on the other side of the room. He scanned the whole area carefully--deep in concentration, he seemed to be looking for someone. When his eyes met mine, his mood abruptly changed. His full round mouth had a slight smile on it as he zeroed in on me. I got the feeling he was studying me-not in that "cruisey" way, but as if he were trying to figure me out. He, raised a sausage-like finger, and motioned me over to him. For some reason, I wasn't taken aback at all. Something about him seemed so familiar. "Looking for a job?", he said. "Kinda", I replied. He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a candy bar and a folded piece of green paper. "Wanna bite?", He asked. "No thanks…", I replied "…but I could use work." He unfolded the piece of paper and tacked it on the bulletin board, smudging it slightly with the chocolate from his fingers. "Well then, you might wanna check this out." With that, he took a large bite of candy bar, turned around, and began lumbering back down the hallway. I was about to say something when he stopped and turned around again (no easy feat for a man his size). "How old are you?", he asked. Slightly startled by his abrupt departure, I blurted out "29." Before I could ask him why it mattered, he patted his mountain of a stomach and smiled a knowing smile: "Same age as I was when I started at BB&T. See ya' around Danny!" And with that, he and his tremors were gone.

BB&T? I looked at the piece of paper for a moment. I took it down from the board and began studying it--trying to make it tell me more about the big, mysterious stranger. But all it did was sit in my hand and smell of Hershey's. The only writing was a quickly scribbled address and telephone number: "Bernie's Big and Tall-525-BIGG. The chocolate had formed a ring around the writing so that it looked like a halo. I laughed at the idea of working in a big men's shop, but hell, I needed work badly. Besides, something inside me started recalling the times when I'd been oddly aroused by the large men who were the butt of my friends' jokes. Maybe by working there, I could discover what the attraction was all about. I walked over towards the pay phone in the corner chuckling to myself. That's when it struck me that he'd called me by my name-Danny. Did I know him? He really did look familiar....

The phone rang ten times before someone answered at Bernie's. When someone did pick up, they were so out of breath I had to wait a couple seconds for a "hello". Then I remembered what type of establishment this was---all the employees probably looked like the guy I'd just met. Well, if for no other reason, they could hire me to answer the telephone. I smiled. It turned out to be Bernie himself on the line. Before I had a chance to say "Hello", or introduce myself, Bernie cheerfully announced: "Danny! Joe said you'd be calling! When can you start?" I was stunned. I stammered out, "B-but you don't even know me!" "I don't have to!" was his amiable reply. "Anybody that Joe picks will work out fine!" I didn't have the guts to tell him that I had no idea who the hell "Joe" was, but then maybe he was an old friend of my family's. Who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? Especially from such a large horse!

Bernie's Big and Tall was in a little strip mall just outside of the city. It took me two maps and three detours to find it. I almost gave up, but something told me to keep looking. A small card shop on one side and a bakery on the other flanked the store, and were the only other establishments in the complex. I was sure the employees at the Big and Tall kept the bakery in business because it was too far away from anything else to have a regular clientele. The store itself was rather unimpressive: a sign painted on the window proclaimed "Bernie's" with a silhouette of a rotund man underneath. A couple of half dummies sat dejectedly in the window--the clothing which covered them obviously too large for their frames. The one rather curious and slightly impressive item was the door to the front of the shop. It was huge. Much larger than the doors in most retail establishments, it must have been custom made for Bernie's king-size clientele. What did it feel like to need extra room for everything? When I put my hand on the handle to push the door open, I got the strangest feeling that if I stepped across the threshold of this place, my life would change forever. "This is ridiculous!" I remember thinking to myself "It's just a job for goodness sakes!" I pushed the door open and went in.

Lone Star's "I'm Already There" was playing on a far off country music station as the bell over the door gave a little tinkle. The place had that slightly musky perfume of your grandfather's closet-that subtle scent of fine pipe tobacco and Old Spice. The shop was much bigger than it seemed from the outside, and had a second level with a balcony and offices that overlooked the showroom floor. For a moment, I felt as if I was on a sound stage for "Land Of The Giants"-everything seemed oversized. From the racks that were set up for the tallest of the tall, to the suits that looked like they were made for Guinness Book Fattest Man nominees. All were neatly hung on rotating racks or show room displays. I'd never worked retail, but somehow I felt right at home. From above boomed a lusty voice: "Danny!". I looked up to find a large man leaning on the steel railings of the balcony. It didn't seem possible, but he was even bigger than Joe from the unemployment office. Every part of him was fat-from his puffy hairstyle, to his big feet. He looked like a balloon character from the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I half expected to see wires attached to him with people below maneuvering him. "Bernie?" I queried and his hearty laugh confirmed it. "None other my boy! Come on up!"

Bernie's office was at the top of the stairs. As I bounded up, two at a time, Bernie let out a chuckle "That's something you don't see many of our salesmen do!" He ushered me ahead of him and I walked through another enormous door to find myself in a small room, made smaller by its furnishings. It consisted of a small oak desk, and a computer-standard office fare. However, the large refrigerator, stand-alone pantry, coffee maker and microwave were not. "Before we begin, may I offer you something to eat?" Bernie asked, already carefully maneuvering his way around the desk to the refrigerator. It was somewhat surreal watching this super-sized man practically squeeze his way through the cramped quarters. He opened the refrigerator to reveal a small deli: meats of all kinds, exotic breads and cheeses, beverages ranging from soft-drinks to fine wines, all carefully stocked within its quarters. Bernie rummaged through, and pulled out an overstuffed submarine sandwich and began munching. His grunts of pleasure permeated the office, and instead of revulsion, I actually enjoyed watching this man eat with such gusto. For so many years, I had deprived myself of some of my favorite foods in exchange for the washboard stomach that I possessed. Maybe, if I worked here, I could live vicariously through these guys. My internal reverie ended with Bernie's voice. "Well at least share a cup of coffee with me. I hate nourishing myself alone." I smiled my assent and Bernie squeezed his way to the coffeepot. I was not a big coffee drinker, but I figure a little kiss up wouldn't hurt my job prospects any. Besides, for some reason the coffee smelled particularly delicious.

Bernie produced two mugs-each with the Big and Tall logo I had seen on the front door of the shop. "How do you take yours?" he cooed. "Black" I answered. "Well you must indulge me one small addition to your mug…I make my own blend of spices that seem to really liven up the coffee-nothing much, just some cinnamon and vanilla. Stuff like that. You're not allergic to anything are you? I told him no, and he took a small packet from the standing pantry, tapped it lightly on the desk, tore the corner and emptied the contents into my cup. The granules looked like Folgers Crystals-little flecks of something shiny danced and fell gracefully into the mug. Bernie took a small silver spoon and began stirring the coffee. The aroma was like nothing I had smelled before. Memories of big Sunday breakfasts and hearty Thanksgiving dinners suddenly became as vivid as if they'd happened yesterday. Nights spent eating cotton candy and funnel cake at the local carnival-laughing with my friends and gorging on hotdogs-all seemed palpable. Bernie brought the mug close to my nostrils and placed my hands around it. "Drink, my boy. And then we can talk about your joining us at BB&T."

Almost mesmerized, I brought the cup to my lips and took a sip. It was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. The beans of the coffee blended with the spices and my taste buds seemed to spring to new life. The thoughts of all of the goodies I had denied myself over the years began to turn into a craving, then a hunger. I could feel my stomach began to growl for food. I had grabbed a McMuffin when I'd left the unemployment office, but that had been several hours ago. It was natural for me to feel starved. But in the middle of a job interview? I had to eat something. As if on cue, Bernie produced an enormous plate of chocolate chip cookies. "Have one?" Bernie again cajoled. "I--I--…" I stuttered, but no other words would come out. The cookies looked like manna from heaven. I could feel the drool forming on my tongue. I grabbed one and placed it in my mouth. It melted like butter, blending with the coffee and exploding my senses like an orgasm. My crotch leapt, writhing with the rise and fall of my breath. I came up for air, took another cookie and a sip of the coffee. Again, the exact same sensation-yet more intense. I thought I was going to erupt right then and there. I gulped more of the drink and began inhaling the pastries with lightening speed. In less then ten minutes the entire plate was empty. The wildest thing of all…I was still hungry!

I looked up at Bernie, who was standing over me with a knowing smile. "It's always better to talk on a full stomach." He went to the refrigerator and pulled out another overstuffed submarine sandwich-twice the size of the one he'd just eaten. "Are you sure I can't tempt you with one of these?" My mouth opened automatically, and Bernie floated over and placed the monstrous hoagie in my hands. I tore into it as if I hadn't eaten in weeks. In between bites, Bernie suggested that we carry our meeting to The Blue Whale, a restaurant frequented by he and his staff. As I rose to go, onions and lettuce falling everywhere, Bernie touched the intercom on his desk. "All right boys…" the echo of his voice could be heard in the showroom below "…time for our foray to The Blue Whale! Close up shop!" In between munching, I could hear, and feel great activity from the floor below. The floor vibrated much like it had done in the unemployment office. We moved out of the office and onto the balcony to a sight that would have sent my old faggy friends into a tizzy. Below were five of Bernie's staff-each one plumper than the next. They stood at attention as we came down the stairs. Bernie introduced me to each, ending with their newest salesman, Dominic. He had to weigh at least 350 pounds. "This is our baby!" Bernie gushed, pinching Dominic's flushed cheek. "Been with us about a year" he poked Dominic's round middle. "He's starting to fit in quite nicely." Bernie lumbered towards the door, pulling me along with him. "Daniel here will be joining us for lunch-and hopefully more. Make him feel at home." And still in a spin from all that had happened since walking through the doors of Bernie's Big & Tall, I was off to The Blue Whale.

The Blue Whale was quite nice--muted tones of aqua and gray gave it warmth and style. A Bach concerto whispered softly as Bernie and the other salesmen took their seats. We had been ushered to a table in a private area of the restaurant--one large enough for the substantial girth of our party. It was obvious that Bernie and the gang were regulars, because all of the wait-staff knew everyone by name. It was also pretty obvious that time that the entire staff of Bernie's was gay. Underneath a curtained archway, a cadre of handsome waiters looked ready to break into a chorus of "Hello Dolly". They giggled and whispered as if they were dance hall girls anxious to see which gentleman would pick them out of the crowd. The headwaiter, who looked to be about Bernie's size, clapped the others to attention. "Don't just stand there like a bunch of schoolgirls! Take these gentlemen's orders!" he barked. "Oh Jacques," Bernie cooed "...just bring us our usual!"

I was returning to normal, my appetite assuaged and my pants screaming to be unzipped-my distended belly playing hide and seek with the buttons on my shirt. It was time to ask about hours and pay, and all the standard stuff. As I opened my mouth to get down to business, the first of the waiters arrived with the appetizers. There was enough food to feed a small city. Plate upon plate of mouth watering delicacies passed before the table: shrimp wrapped in bacon, small puff pastries stuffed with creams and cheeses and meats-anything that I had ever seen at fancy buffets was now being placed under my nose. I thought of the spectacle I must have made in Bernie's office, and my stomach began to turn. The thought of more food was making me nauseous. And then the coffee arrived. Jacques himself brought out the ornate samovar and ushered it towards Bernie. "Monsieur Bernie" he chimed. "Ze coffee wis your special mix eez ready". As Jacques opened the spigot and poured the first cup, the table went silent. Unbelievably I could feel my stomach loosen. I could feel the insatiable hunger I had felt in Bernie's office return. It was as if I had never eaten the mound of cookies. Just the aroma of the incredible liquid wafting into my nostrils was enough to make me want to stuff something in my mouth. All around me, the other men were having a similar reaction. I remember seeing episodes of "Wild Kingdom" with sharks or packs of wolves in a feeding frenzy. There was a primitive ritual about to happen, and everyone knew it. As the coffee was passed around, Dominic, began to sweat. When a cup made it to him, he grabbed it, and chugged down the hot liquid as if it were the first drink of a dehydrated man. He then grabbed the nearest tray of hors d'oeuvres and began shoveling them into his mouth. Sweat glistened on his brow as he tipped the tray up and up until he was literally swallowing and chewing almost simultaneously. A waiter quickly scurried over and began wiping his brow and massaging his hardening belly. I sat in awe as I watched each of the sales guys fall into the same kind of trance-that is until my cup reached me.

I recall one of the adventures of Homer's "Odyssey", in which Odysseus and his men encounter the witch Circe. Once on her island, she turns most of the men into animals. Bernie had led his men into the modern day version of that adventure. I don't remember much about the rest of that meal. As my haze parted from time to time, I was aware of grunts and moans of pleasure coming from around the table. Slurping and guzzling and licking were followed by burps and the occasional button pop or zipper pull being loosened. Halfway through the fourth course, everyone abandoned silverware and began eating off of plates and trays with their hands and mouths. I found myself caressing and licking the gravy off of plates as if it were a lover. No mouthful seemed enough-I couldn't get the food in fast enough, and the sounds and sights around me seemed to urge me on. By dessert, each man was no longer able to feed himself. The waiters took over and began shoveling whipped cream, cakes and pies into our dazed faces. I can't tell you how much I ate, but I literally couldn't move. My belly was as hard as a ripe cantaloupe and I closed my eyes and slept.

When I awoke, the entire table had been cleared off. Any trace of the feeding frenzy had been wiped away, and all of the men had been cleaned up and were groggily coming to themselves. If it weren't for the screaming pain coming from my stomach, I would have thought it all a dream. Standing above me was a beaming Bernie. "I hope you got enough to eat." The boys and I do this at least three or four times a week. Don't worry about the bill…I take care of that." I sat up and blinked. I couldn't believe this was happening. Bernie handed me a packet of papers-the standard Human Resources forms to fill out along with information about my salary and benefits. My eyes almost popped out of my head when I saw how much I'd be making. It was at least five times what I would have made at the "Y". How could he afford to pay for all of this? Bernie saw my reaction. He said "Don't worry, this salary is only temporary. With raises and incentives you'll quadruple it in no time. So do we have a deal?" Was he crazy? I propped myself up on my swollen stomach and shook his hand. "On one condition" I said. He cocked his fat head and his chins wobbled. "What's that, my dear boy?" "That you give me some of that coffee to take home"

In the beginning, everything went along pretty normally. The store practically ran itself. And I was more than content--I was happy. The first time I noticed something different was after my initial lunch with the guys. The next few days, I was ravenous. I ate from morning till night. And I craved the coffee with the secret ingredient introduced to my by Bernie. One morning, about a week after I had started working, I rolled out of bed and began getting ready for work. Sleepily I showered, shaved, and stumbled into my clothing. I stepped into my dress slacks and pulled them to my waist. They wouldn't close. With my swimmer's lifestyle, I had been a perfect size 32 for years. I never had to worry about putting on weight. I went to the scale in the bathroom and stepped on. Since I had begun working at the store, I had put on ten pounds! "Not acceptable." I thought to myself. I sucked in my stomach, fastened my pants and made a mental note to go to the gym more often and most importantly--to cut out lunching with the guys. But somehow neither thing seemed to happen--I was constantly working until after the gym closed. And not going to lunch with the Bernie and the gang became as unthinkable as not having cup after cup of the delicious mysterious coffee. I began to have strange dreams: I would dream I was in the middle of Africa in the bush country, taking pictures of wildlife, when the earth would begin to shake. Suddenly an enormous Bull Elephant the size of a building would come crashing through the tall grasses and block the sun. I was terrified until it would dawn on me that I was the Elephant! Then, understanding my power, I began breaking down trees, even mountains--growing more enormous with each new conquest. After one of these dreams, I would always wake in a sweat, run to the kitchen, and raid the refrigerator--absent-mindedly eating until I was sleepy.

After about three months of this, I could no longer hide the results. I tried to wear my size 32 pants until they had all systematically exploded off of my frame. My suit jackets had begun cutting off the circulation in my arms, and my old shirts were laughable on my new frame. Between the daily lunches, midnight binges, and very little gym time, I had gone from 180lbs, to 230. My pants size had gone from the perpetual 32 to a 42.

One night, about a week before my 30th birthday, I tiptoed into the bathroom when I thought Sean was sleeping. I took off my clothes and stepped in front of the full-length mirror. My face was so round! I was beginning to develop a pronounced double chin. My thighs and ass were full and big, and my stomach was beginning to grow into this ball of soft flesh. And my tits! I remembered my high school gym teacher teasing Jeffrey Lowell and Scott Taylor: two fat kids in my class. He used to call their soft round mammaries "man-tits", kidding them about having bigger ones than most of the girls, (which was true). I used to find those two guys fascinating: the way they lumbered onto the field for class, the way they looked in the showers. I knew I was gay back then, but it was something more than that. And here I was with my own set of "man-tits". I touched the right nipple, and then the left--crossing my arms and inadvertently giving myself cleavage. Electricity shot through my entire body. My nipples had become so sensitive! Caught in my exploration, it took me a moment to realize that my lover Sean was standing behind me. He had come in to use the toilet and noticed me in the mirror. "You're fat," he said as he sleepily relieved himself, kissed me on my chubby cheek and padded back to bed. He was right. I WAS fat. But looking in the mirror, I wasn't sure that was a bad thing. I touched my nipples again and headed for the kitchen.

The next day at work, Bernie and the guys threw me a birthday party and presented me with two gifts. The first was a container of the special ingredient for my coffee, and the next was a new suit from the store. It was the first size that we carried for big men. I was still a size or two away from needing to shop at Bernie's and had decided to keep it that way. "No offense guys...", I said, "...but I plan on never wearing clothes from our store!" "Well we can always get it taken in." Bernie quickly replied. "We just wanted to show you how glad we are that you're here. Now cut the cake and have some coffee!" I declined the cake, but I had 3 cups of coffee. That evening determined to change my eating habits for my 30th year on this planet, I took off early and headed for the gym. On the way, I passed restaurant after restaurant, fast food joint after fast food joint. I kept thinking to myself, "You've got to lose weight." Yet every time I would ask myself "Why?" I couldn't come up with a good enough answer. Until I thought of Sean's comment in the bathroom: "You're fat!" "You could lose him", I thought. I steadied myself and pointed the car in the direction of the gym. When suddenly, a little voice spoke to me: "But if you go to the gym right now, you could lose YOU." Suddenly I was starving. I turned into a Kentucky Fried Chicken, ordered a 20-piece bucket, and ate the whole thing in the car.

When I got home, Sean had prepared a huge meal of pasta, fresh bread and salad. Even after my trek to the Colonel's, I wolfed down plate after plate. Sean announced that he had news--good and bad. The good news was that he had landed a choice modeling assignment with a top agency. The bad news was that the agency was out of the country and he would be gone for at least 5 months! I felt like I was going to die. I wanted to scream, "It's me isn't it? I'll lose the weight! Don't go!" But instead, I stuffed some more food in my mouth and hugged him tightly. I loved him too much to stand in his way. And if he found someone else with a swimmer's build who made him happy...so be it. Sean had to leave the day before my birthday. As he hugged me before he boarded the plane, he whispered, "See you later fat boy", in my ear and walked away. And I knew I'd never see him again. When I got home, I pulled out the suit Bernie and the guys had given me and put it on. I looked like a kid playing dress up. Even though I was working on a size 44 waist, the pants had to be at least a 46. I thought of Sean and suddenly felt free. I sat down with a mixing bowl of Captain Crunch and heavy cream and imagined myself filling out the pants.

What happened next is all a blur. Knowing that I had lost Sean, I poured myself into my work and my food. Both satisfied me intensely. The store was doing great business. It seemed that the more I ate, the more productive I became. I was growing daily. Every time I turned around, a button would pop or a zipper would break. I began to carry around safety pins to keep my clothes up--it became a running joke around the store. The guys who used to seem enormous to me suddenly began to look average. I became the star at the Blue Whale. The waiters would line up to be my encourager and with Sean gone, I used their attention to help me forget about Sean. Bernie, who was no slouch at the dinner table, would watch me in amazement as I polished off plate after plate of entrée after entrée with all the trimmings, the servers massaging my distended belly and cooing at my appetite. Then go to work on the dessert cart. I stood in the mirror more often now. I was officially fat by anyone's standards. My face was so round that sometimes I wouldn't recognize myself. Because I was constantly lifting heavy boxes, my arms were huge and firm, as was my chest. But my stomach became my favorite area. I would hang out at the bar around the corner from my apartment and drink beer after beer to the amazement of all the guys. I started wearing suspenders because no pants it seemed would hold my ever growing gut.

In the first month after Sean left, I put on 35 lbs. I tipped the scales at around 265. From then on, not a waking (or sleeping) moment went by that I didn't eat something. I even took food breaks in the store. Bernie was right about the suit I was given for my birthday--I DID have to have it altered...eventually it had to be let out--twice! Sean would call and we would have stilted conversations. He would ask me if I was still gaining weight, and I would avoid talking about it. He would tell me he loved me, but I knew it was just talk. The company had extended his contract--he didn't know when he'd be back. Every now and then, I would get a postcard from some exotic place saying, "Having a Wonderful Time, Wish You Were Here". But I was too busy to notice. I was becoming the Elephant of my dream. I could feel my power.

In the next few months, I surpassed all store sales records, and there was big talk of a promotion to store manager. Except for the prospect of leaving this location, I couldn't have been happier. At least, when I wasn't thinking about Sean. The 5 months had quickly become 8 and then 10. In that time, my physical gain had become as impressive as my professional one. In the year since I had begun working at Bernie's, I had gone from 180 to 380 lbs. My waist had gone from a 32 to a 62. I was beginning to make earthquakes of my own.

One night I awakened from a dream (in which my stomach broke through the walls of the Empire State Building) by a voice in the darkness. "My God! You're huge!" it was Sean's voice. He was standing over the bed. He sounded different somehow. My first instinct was to grab him with my big arms and engulf him in my newfound mountain of flesh and warmth. But anger quickly welled up inside of me and I sat up in bed--the third empty large pizza box falling off of my stomach. "Yes I am." I said proudly, "You got something to say about it?" "Yes..." he said-I could hear the smile in his voice as he moved closer. "We are going to need a bigger bed." And with that, he turned on the light. My mouth dropped. When Sean left, he had been a 6 foot 1 inch, 170 lb. cover boy: now standing before me was a 6 foot 1 inch, 285 lb. (he told me later) gorgeous Buddha. His round face now covered with a lush beard. It was obvious that he was gaining weight faster than he could buy clothes to fit him: the T-shirt he was wearing wouldn't fit over the big round belly protruding over his tight size 48 jeans. "How?!...Why?" I stammered. "By eating dummy!" he laughed. "And I have a feeling that the delicious stuff I borrowed from you to put in my coffee helped". "But I thought you didn't like me fat!" I was almost crying now. Sean sat on the edge of the bed--which groaned under the over 600 pounds of us. I could see how horny he was as his great stomach heaved. "You never asked. You just assumed I wouldn't want a fat lover. I loved watching you pig out. I'd come in the bedroom after you'd gorge and jack off. Didn't you notice how intense our love-making got after you started putting on weight?" "I thought you were over-compensating because you loved me." I said. "Of course I love you Danny, but not in spite of how much you weigh-your size turns me on! I want you as big as a house!", was his breathless reply as he kissed me full on the lips. "And I hope you're ready for me to join you." He took off his shirt to reveal burgeoning man-tits and the most beautiful belly I had ever seen. He straddled me, opened my robe and began exploring my under-belly, kissing it and licking lower and lower. I felt hungry and horny at the same time as I pulled him to my crotch. We broke the bed that night.

T hat was three years ago. When I waddled into work the next day, I was beaming. Sean and I made love all night, and then spent the entire morning eating the breakfast to end all breakfasts. During which, he told me of his adventures in Europe. He spent the first few months pining over me-not eating, not sleeping. Once he began drinking the coffee, his appetite returned and he immediately found solace in food and proceeded to eat himself out of his misery. Of course this began to show on his waistline, and after a month, he was let go from his modeling contract. As luck would have it, a photographer on the shoot also worked with a new European catalogue designed for big men. He introduced Sean to the head of the company and the rest was history. Sean spent the remainder of the tour eating and posing in the finest cities of the Old World. He really had a wonderful time and wished desperately that I had been there. We decided to get married and spend our honeymoon eating our way through all of the spots he had discovered in his travels.

When Bernie saw me, he sensed the change immediately. "My boy, either you had sex last evening, or discovered that Little Debbie delivers-which was it?" We were in his office, munching on crullers. We had positioned ourselves so as to be able to reach the refrigerator and standing pantry without moving: we had become so large that it was impossible for the two of us to move around. "Both" I laughed. I told him of Sean's return, and of his amazing transformation. I told him that my life was complete: I had a job I loved, and a partner whom I adored. Bernie smiled, and in it, I thought I caught a hint of bittersweet sadness. "Well then," he said. "…my job is done." And he immediately began opening drawers, removing papers and stuffing them in a nearby briefcase. Stunned, I spattered out "What are you doing?"- crumbs spewing across my white shirt. Bernie smiled, and calmly explained. "I am a business man my dear. I have many other BB&T locations to check on. Joe, the man you met at the unemployment office, is my lover. He's already gone off to our store in Portland, and now I can join him. We needed to find a manager for this store that we could depend on and trust to carry on my traditions. We found him." He reached over and patted my stomach, which was wedged against his desk. "But…but…" I searched for words. How could I tell this man that he had become my mentor, my father-my friend! I blurted out the first thing that came into my mind. "But where will I get more of Bernie's Secret Mix for my coffee?" Bernie laughed "make it yourself darling-I told you, it's just cinnamon and vanilla." I stared at him blankly. "But what about the secret ingredient? The stuff that makes us so ravenous?" Bernie chortled "The secret ingredient my boy, is you."

I looked down at myself. At 400 lbs., my 4X dress shirt was already gapping in the front around my stomach. People moved out of my way when they saw me coming because of my size. My whole world had become food-I expressed myself in how much I indulged. Was Bernie saying that this had been my destiny all along. I thought back to High School-to Jeffrey Lowell and Scott Taylor-to the big men who would intrigue me when I was with my friends. I realized, not only did I want to HAVE them, I wanted to BE them. And now I was. I guess he was right: it was in me all the time.

So now I run Bernie's Big & Tall Store #836. We consistently bring in the highest revenues of any in the chain. We also have the fattest staff. I've had my offices expanded to include a full kitchen, and have hired my favorite chef and waiters from the Blue Whale to prepare in house meals for my staff. I surpassed Bernie's weight about a year ago, and am so fat that I had to install a freight elevator to get to the second floor, because the steps are impossible for me to maneuver. I am fast approaching Guinness Book proportions. As for Sean-he now models for Bernie's catalogue. He quickly outgrew the standard sizes, and a new super-size line was developed. Sean also recruits new employees for the store. He now tips the scale at over 500lbs., and is the most beautiful roly-poly thing I've ever seen. So you see, dreams come true in the strangest places. Who would have ever thought that I would find my life's calling in an unemployment line? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm about to interview a potential salesman that Sean found, and I have to brew some coffee.

By the way…are YOU looking for work?

The End.

copyright 1998 by Fatbrwncub

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 2

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 4.2k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: Don't be scared to click the embedded links, you might get an auditory surprise (Ai voice cloning works wonders)

Past (ii) - You

[16 & 17] - THE CAPITOL

The man before you has a ten-year streak of picking which tribute will win. Or, at least, that’s what he’s been claiming for the past twenty minutes or so. He said it has something to do with a lot of strategic planning and background research, but at this point, he could say it had something to do with the phases of the moon and you’d still nod along. You had tried to listen closely when he first started talking, but—well, okay, that’s a lie. Everything these Capitols say goes in one ear and out the other. Actually, it doesn’t even make it as far as the first ear.

“I know how it sounds, but it’s definitely more than luck, I can assure you.” His hand catches your shoulder in his attempt to hold your very fleeting attention, trailing down your back more and more in his excitement. “Well, I won’t bore you with the details, they might be a touch too complicated for you to understand.” He laughs and you smile coyly, sidestepping his touch. You’re no stranger to the heavy-handed petting of men and women with ulterior motives, no matter how innocent they try to play it off as being at first.

It’s nighttime in the arena, and most of the tributes are getting a spare few hours of sleep before the nightmare continues. Meaning this watch party has turned into an actual party. Honestly, you don’t even know how you got trapped in a conversation with this guy.

You sip delicately from your straw, eyes roaming over the room of mingling bodies and wall-length screens depicting the games live—eager to look at literally anything but him. And that’s when you spot him: your saving grace walking by himself with his hands in his pockets.

You make eye contact with Finnick and smile, waving him over. He only hesitates for a split second, but it’s long enough that you worry he’ll leave you to fend for yourself. A fear that’s only abated when he calls out your name and approaches with a mystified grin.

“Finn!” Thank god. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” You exclaim in the most sickeningly saccharine Capitol voice you can muster. He stares with wide blue-green eyes, bemusedly mouthing ‘Finn?’ at you but you ignore him in favor of turning back to the man who somehow looks more starstruck than before.

“I’m sorry, but Finnick here promised me a dance.” You explain, pulling an excuse out of your ass. You loop your arm with Finnick’s, practically hanging off of him, and you hope beyond hope that Finnick is good at reading social cues. It should be obvious, right? You’re a big neon sign flashing ‘HELP ME’ in no uncertain terms. 

“I did?” He asks, clearly confused at such a friendly greeting, but you stare up at him pleadingly and you must be projecting enough distress that he gets the memo. His back straightens in understanding and he smiles at the other man. “I did. But you know us victors, as slippery as an eel.” The other man lets out a flustered laugh. Finnick tilts his head as the band starts up. “Oh, I love this song. You don’t mind, do you? Thanks.”

You only have a few seconds to wonder what the hell an eel is before Finnick takes your glass out of your hand and hands it over to the sputtering man.

Your arms are still looped together as he leads you to the area where the other couples have decided to dance. 

“May I have this dance?” He teases and you get a strong sense of déjà vu.

“Well, we’re already here, aren’t we?” You laugh. You loop your arms behind his neck, and big hands grab either side of your waist. 

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.” He sighs, any chance of him being serious is shattered by his smirk.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow before raising to touch your hairline when he spins you.

“You know; you being a damsel in distress, and me saving you by being dashingly handsome and charming.” He clears his throat obnoxiously and puffs up his chest playfully. You’re sure if his hands were free he’d stretch to flex his muscles.

“Mhm,” You hum doubtfully. “Those are…certainly words that could be said with your name in the same sentence.” 

“...I think that’s the most roundabout way anyone has ever insulted me before.” His jaw drops before he grins down at you in amused surprise. You laugh at his face, sobering up a little.

“But thank you, Finnick. Seriously. I’m sorry I keep relying on you to pull me out. It’s just…” You don’t know what else to do.

“No, it’s alright. It’s fun, honestly. We rarely get to exercise the little authority we have over them.” His mouth shrugs instead of his shoulders, an endearing motion. “Better enjoy it while you can, right?’’ 

You nod.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He straightens up subtly as your probing stare looks him up and down. “Don’t take this the wrong way. You look great, but you don’t really seem like a suit kind of guy.” There’s nothing about his outward appearance that gives away how uncomfortable he is, but you only need to talk to him for a few minutes to know this isn’t the sort of thing he’d choose to wear. Not that he looks bad in it; far from it. The coat is tailored to sinch at his waist and a few buttons of his undershirt are undone. The color of the jacket complements his skin tone quite well and the little pocket square makes his eyes pop. 

“Thank you. Try telling that to my prep team.” He rolls his eyes. “Apparently, telling them I feel like a circus monkey playing dress up isn’t enough to dissuade them, so I might need a second opinion.”

Circus? "Wait, you’ve seen a monkey before?” You ask in awed disbelief. His mouth moves wordlessly at your enthusiasm.

“Well…not in person, per se.”

Past (ii) - Finnick

[16 & 17] - THE NEXT DAY

Finnick pours the rest of his drink into one of the potted plants he walks past, unbuttoning his suit coat once he's out of sight. This really is the last time he's letting his stylist dress him up in this getup. He rubs his temple in an attempt to soothe his growing migraine. As far as he's concerned, his job here is done. He has no reason to keep watching the games. His tributes already died. He pushes the doors open to the wide balcony and stops in his tracks. Of the many things Finnick expects to find out here, your crying isn't one of them. His first thought is that you're mourning your tributes. His second thought is that Snow got to you. It's an odd time for Snow to drop that kind of proposition on you. There are too many people here, too open for that kind of conversation. He scratches that out and circles back to his first thought. When he wasn't busy rubbing elbows with sponsors, he was keeping an eye out for your tributes. Switching periodically from his kids to yours and he can't, for the life of him, explain why. They got pretty far, considering they were malnourished and had no combat training. The boy got crushed under a tree after an earthquake and the girl stayed with him until he died. Though, it wasn't long before a Career shot an arrow through her head. The balcony door shuts behind him, and you whip around. Neither of you says anything as you rush to wipe your face. There’s an awkward lull as you both silently assess each other. "If you tell me it gets easier, I will push you off this balcony." He doesn't answer immediately, instead taking a moment to look at you. God, you're beautiful. Even now, wiping away your tears and your hurt, you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He doesn’t say any of that. "I wasn't going to." He raises his hands placatingly. He waits for you to tell him to leave, but the demand never comes. He almost offers to but decides against it for no other reason than not wanting to leave you out here alone. Instead, he moves closer and leans against the railing. It's quiet between you both as you try to hide your tears. He looks at you from the corner of his eye a few times and scratches an eyebrow with his thumb. It’s odd to think the two of you were laughing and enjoying each other’s company only yesterday. "I cried in a supply closet the first time my kids died." He glances at your surprised face before looking back down at the view. He clears his throat around the words trapped in his throat. He’s never told anyone this before, he’s never wanted to. "A fourteen-year-old girl named Dahlia, and a sixteen-year-old boy named Nyle. They didn't even make it out of the Cornucopia." Nyle was decapitated by a tribute from One and Dahlia's throat was slit by a tribute from Seven. Finnick remembers crying so hard that he threw up in a mop bucket. "Why are you telling me this?" That is a good question. One with an answer Finnick doesn’t want to look too closely at, though it might—scratch that, it definitely has something to do with your big watery eyes staring up at him ingenuously. 

"Your first game as a mentor is always the hardest, and it doesn't get easier. But,” he shrugs and pulls the artfully folded, blue handkerchief out of his breast pocket, and hands it to you. Turns out this suit is good for something, "you do learn what to expect. You get used to that hurt, build up a tolerance to it." At least, he hopes so. This is his third year as a mentor and the burn is still there. How much longer until he tries to extinguish it by using substances? The Morphlings lasted two and four years, respectively. Haymitch lasted two months. You look between him and the handkerchief for a second before using it to wipe at your eyes. "It's completely different than being in the games. It's different watching." You whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. "Yeah. It is.” That's another thing they don't mention when you become a victor. The after is often worse than the during. It’s a thought he had when he saw you at your Victor Tour celebration. He doesn’t know what exactly made him ask you to dance, it could have been the tenseness you carried in your shoulders like a wounded animal being surrounded, or maybe it was the way your pretty face cracked and shattered like glass the longer the Capitols talked to you.

You were a commendable actor, sure, you’d certainly have fooled anyone else. But you just, you had looked so alone—completely overwhelmed with the piranhas circling you. So he threw you a line.

Your words swim through his head. 

And you want to save me? He didn’t say your assessment was right, in fact, he had ignored what you said entirely. But he never said you were wrong either. He doesn’t suddenly have a savior complex or anything, he’s got no delusions of being some kind of hero. It’s just. He knows how much he would have appreciated it if someone had stepped in on his behalf when he was fourteen, even for just a moment. It would have made all the difference. But there hadn’t been anyone. So, if he has the chance to change that for you—stop the crippling despondency before it sweeps you away—why wouldn’t he?

Finnick won’t overestimate his influence. If Snow gets to you, there’s very little he can do about it. But.

It doesn’t seem like he’s made you the offer yet. Doesn’t that mean something? Snow is nothing if not punctual, very cut-throat in that regard. If he wanted something from you, he would have asked already, right? So maybe, he lets himself think, maybe you’re safe.

He looks up to the sky. One of the many things he hates about the Capitol is the smog. They're in the mountains, but the sky is so polluted it's hard to even see the moon sometimes. "Can you see the stars well in Eleven?" He asks, waving off your attempt to hand him back the handkerchief. You can burn it for all he cares. "Yeah,” you nod. "We focus on agriculture, so there are no mills or factories to pollute the air." You move closer to where he's leaning and look up. It feels almost instinctual to copy you, to get closer and fall into your orbit. "Hmm," he hums, "same for Four. Ships come in and out of the harbor, but I don't think they do much damage." The calmest he's felt in his entire life is when he's staring up at the sky at night, sand under his feet, and waves crashing in the background. "A friend of mine loved looking at the stars. She never knew any of the constellations, so she'd make up her own with stories to go with them." Mags loved telling him all the stories she made up when she was his age. Even after the stroke took her ability to speak, she'd point up at a constellation and have Finnick retell them to her. "My dad knew the real constellations." There's a small, prideful grin on your face that he doubts you even know is there. But he does. He is very aware of it. "He'd tell them to me whenever we came back from harvesting." "The real constellations, huh?” He glances over his shoulder at the glass door leading inside. The game is down to its last few tributes. No one should come looking for either of you. "How about for every real story you tell me, I tell you a made-up one?" He grins at you, the bar of the balcony digging into his back as he turns around. Odd. He can’t remember the last time he’s been alone with someone—someone other than Mags and Annie—and has kept all of his clothes on. "Won't they miss you in there? I mean you’re definitely the main attraction in every room you're in." You nudge him gently with your elbow, looking up at him through wispy eyelashes. Your eyes are still a little red from your earlier crying, but they’re heavy and focused entirely on him. He's used to people flirting with him. Hell, he does it almost as readily as he breathes. But he isn't used to you flirting with him. That tentative way of yours makes him nervous. It’s nothing he’s used to. It feels too real. "I don't care what they think," he shrugs a shoulder, biting his lip to stop from smiling too broadly, "The real party's out here, anyway." You tilt your head, smiling up at him and his ears go warm. This is probably the fifth time he's talked to you and you've never smiled at him like that before.

“Deal.” You hold up your pinky to him, something so openly childish that he can’t help but laugh. 

“Deal.” He locks his pinky with yours and you nod at each other before dropping your hands.

"You see that up there? Those tiny clusters of stars," he watches your finger draw a W between five stars, "are called Cassiopeia. And those five stars above it are called Cepheus. They were husband and wife, queen and king. Cassiopeia offended Poseidon by saying her daughter, Andromeda, was more beautiful than the sea nymphs—close friends of his. So he punished her by sending a flood and a sea monster that would destroy their country unless they sacrificed Andromeda." Finnick looks from the sky to the side of your face as you continue talking. He follows the line of your jaw up to your mouth and watches as your full lips form the words of your story. The moon is full, the sky is bright, and he's entranced by more than just the stars. “After they died, Zeus put them in the sky together because Cepheus was a descendant of one of Zeus's lovers. A little weird, honestly.” Your face scrunches up in a decidedly cute way at the thought. “Cepheus sits with his scepter, and Cassiopeia sits chained to her throne as a punishment by Poseidon. As if having to sacrifice her daughter wasn’t enough. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?" 

“Yeah.” The yellow lights from inside blanket you from behind, while the moon’s white glare reflects in your eyes. “They are.” You catch him staring and look at him expectantly. You're starting to fidget and he realizes he’s been quiet for a concerning amount of time. “My friend…” he pauses and makes a quick decision, "my friend Mags, she calls that one the Turtle and the Fish. Eros was mischievous and vain, as most gods are. He wanted to show off to a sea nymph, so he made a turtle and a fish fall in love to prove his power transcended species. But fish don't live as long as turtles, and once its lover died, the turtle mourned for one hundred years at the bottom of the sea. Poseidon, who felt his subject's grief, put them together amongst the stars for all eternity." He turns to you and finds you staring at him. "What?" He asks with a laugh, embarrassed for whatever reason. "I know it’s pretty simple compared to yours, but—" He cuts himself off when you smile at him again. "No, I liked it." You nod at your own words like you're agreeing with yourself. "It was sweet. Your Poseidon is way nicer than mine. Maybe you can tell your friend one of my stories. To show her how different they are." You shrug like it's a dumb, throwaway idea, before turning away from him in a haste to look back up at the sky. 

He doesn’t understand. How can you just offer something like that like it’s nothing? You clearly loved your father very much and he picked up on the past tense when you talked about him. These stories are quite personal to you and he had assumed you hadn’t wanted them to be shared, but…Maybe he will tell her. 

“Oh. Good. I just—I’m not much of a storyteller, so…I might’ve completely butchered that.” He swears it sounds much better when he retells it to Mags.

“It was great, Finnick. You were great.” You pout up at him and it’s the most unfair shit Finnick’s ever seen. Made even worse by the fact that you’re defending him. To himself. “Can you tell me another one?” You ask guilelessly, and who is Finnick to say no?

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Present (ii) - Finnick

[ 23 & 24] - District Four 

"Mags: milk and cinnamon," Finnick places two tea cups before the two women, "And, Annie: a spoonful of honey." Mags smiles up at him in thanks as Annie takes a sip. He walks back to the kitchen to pour his own cup. It’s odd. He hadn’t always been a tea drinker. But now he practically puts on a new cup for every occasion, entirely your influence. He rests against the counter, letting it dig into his hip. It wouldn't be long before Snow announced the stipulations for the third Quarter Quell and Finnick can admit in the safety of his own mind that he's nervous. There were whispers among the Capitols and none of it painted a pretty picture. One of his clients informed him about a new Gamemaker, supposedly some kind of creative genius. He rolls his eyes at the thought. Yeah, he bets the guy is absolutely brilliant at torturing children. He drops five sugar cubes into the tea before grabbing a licorice root to stir it with. He joins them on the couch, staring at the sliced berries floating in his cup. There's something in the air. Word travels fast in close circles and it's no secret that there are more and more riots breaking out in the districts. Katniss and Peeta's win is still fresh on everyone's tongue. Snow has stayed quiet and with the Quarter Quell on the horizon, Finnick knows it—he can feel it in the atoms of his very being that it's going to end poorly. Or at the very least, worse than normal. What fresh hell will Snow come up with this time? Snow appears before a cheering crowd, foreboding even through the TV. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is the seventy-fifth year of The Hunger Games. And it was written in the charter of The Games that every twenty-five years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol." He places his cup on the table and leans forward, elbows on his knees. "Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell," Mags grabs onto his arm, frail fingers gripping his wrist. He wonders if she can feel the pulsing of his rapid heartbeat, "as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol. On this, the third Quarter Quell Games the male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district." Annie lets out a blood-curdling scream and it echoes past Finnick's ears. Her glass shatters on the ground and scalding tea splashes on his feet. He doesn't flinch. Normally, whenever Annie got like this, he would comfort her—talk her through it, but he can't move. The tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors and all of the victors of District Four are in this room. Mags’s physical state and Annie’s mental state guarantee one thing: regardless of who gets picked, they won't survive it. He'll be losing someone either way, and that's if he survives. If he survives, because Finnick is the only male victor for Four. There's no doubt, no one volunteering for him. He will be reaped and that, that was just— He rubs at his eyes with the base of his palms, fighting back a migraine. He makes a mental list: he'll be picked, Johanna and Blight will be picked, Chaff will be picked and— His hands move to pull at his roots. There are only two female victors in Eleven. There are only two, but Seeder loves you like she raised you herself. There's still hope, still a chance that you won't be picked, that she'll take your place if you're reaped. You'll be safe. And then, he remembers: Seeder is a mother, she's a wife. There are people that need her. He won't put it past Snow to rig the outcome for Eleven. He'll put Seeder's name in twice and pat himself on the back for seemingly ensuring your freedom. When, in reality, he's only ensured that you'll be in the arena. 

Finnick knows this because he knows you. Better than he knows anyone, better than he knows himself. He knows that you're brave, that you're stubborn enough to put a cabezon to shame, that you're stupidly compassionate. He knows that you'll never be able to live with yourself if you don't volunteer in her place. 

His head falls to the back of the couch. That's one thing he and Snow have in common, the only thing. Their love has damned you. Annie is mumbling to herself, having screamed herself hoarse at this point. But she keeps making jerking movements as if she wants to run. He steals a few breaths, taking a moment to gather himself—his fears, his hopes, his anger—he gathers it all and stores it away. "C'mon, Annie. Let's go outside for a walk." A stroll along the shoreline usually calms her down and he gets the allure. At least with the cooling breeze and the ocean mist from crashing waves, Finnick can close his eyes and pretend to be someone else. Someone unburdened with the fact that Snow was right, they are more similar than he'd like to admit. Because Seeder may have a family that relies on her, but Finnick can't find it in himself to care. He'd put her in the arena himself if it meant your safety. He stands, stepping around shards of glass and pools of cooling tea, pulling Annie up with him. He doesn't get far before Mags grabs his hand. She's worried, he can see it in her frown. She has every right to be. “I'm,” not fine, far from it, “right here, Mags. Don't worry about me.” He leaves behind Mags's concern and the sound of Caesar Flickerman's excited voice recounting Snow's speech. He pinches the skin between his thumb and index finger, pressing down until it hurts. Then he presses down until the muscle throbs. The sea breeze hits him in the face when he opens the door and he thinks. The boat is sinking and he can only swim for so long.

-

A/N: Side note, that was "stubborn enough to put a bull to shame" but I figured Finnick wouldn't know enough about bulls to know they're stubborn. So I picked the fish equivalent of a bull.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hello (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) can I request self aware au with a player that has a photographic memory basically remembering anything such as what was in their friends meal last month so when a character says " oh I hate this and that" player just goes " oh I know you mentioned that a few months ago " character is just somewhat shocked cause that was just something they mentioned in passing and so they start thinking they must be worth something to their grace if they can remember such small details about them ! But then they realize they are not the only person their grace has blessed with a small amount of their memory and somehow everywhere they look its all red

With Lilia, malleus, and jade

I'm sorry if I'm being too specific ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Thank you and have a great week (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, death, religion, blood, obsession, possessiveness

Jade Leech/Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-Player who has a photographic memory

With a dorm leader like Azul having this kind of memory would be like living the dream

Never forgetting something the businessman said, not having to worry too much about forgetting something.... you get what I mean, right?

But I also don't think that he would be too surprised if he found out you have that kind of memory

After all, some places see you even as a God so he was ready for everything when you appeared in their world

But here we are, Jade having tears in his eyes whilst you hold out a very hard to come by mushroom

This is one of the few moments the eel would be lost for words

“Wh-Ho-What?” “You mentioned you had never seen it and wanted to.” “O-oh... really”

Now, don't mistake this for him not being thankful but this is the first time someone has ever remembered such a minor detail about him that he mentioned once

And that one time he was frustrated about that customer and mumbled “God I wish I could @$&%+# them” to himself thinking that no one was listening to you said months later “Yeah, they made you pretty angry back then”

This hat stand is impressed, ok?

Now imagine, this danger noodle overhears a conversation between you and another student, you also mentioned a detail they said months ago

As I said, he went full “I expect everything from you” since the beginning

But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt

So what does he do? Let you spend time with your other friends? Making even more fond memories with them?

Haha good joke, good joke but no. You know, I saw you spending an awful lot of time with Jade these few weeks. What about the other? Ok...

If he folks your memory only with moments he is present that would also mean that he is always present in some way in your life, even when he is not there. Oh that one time that Heartslabyul student got close to you and the next day he brewed something with that poisonous mushroom, that student never seen again alive? What a funny coincidence. Don't think too much about it.

Here we have a fire spitting lizard who has been raised upon the logic that you, yes you, are a God

So what higer honor is there than to be remembered by your grace?

And since we are not on Twitch I can say this here: SIMP

So, it was a sunny day, the birds were chirping and a certain future ruler is screaming into his pillow

Oh why that last part? Well you just told him that you always listened to him when he was going on and on about gargoyles and even listed a huge chunk of facts

This is his living dream! The Overseer is thinking high enough about him to remember details that he mentioned

Sebek always talking about him isn’t helping either

Now you are a walking encyclopedia about our dear Fae over here

And believe me, that is not the best thing considering that our fellow immortal over there already has an inflated, although pretty unnoticed, ego

And now he finds out that he is not special to you, that you remember so much about everyone

He should have known better, should have expected that such a higher being like you would not see anybody in a special light

But then, why does it hurt so much?

Why does it feel like he wants everybody to disappears so that only he can leave an impression on your memories?

Now, of course he isn’t allowed to do that, and you would hate him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t limit your contact to the outside world

Don’t worry about getting sleepy all of sudden

He just wants you only to have memories of him and what better way to make sure no one interferes than making your dream of only him?

Now what could go wrong with such a fine general who is so kind to worship you to bits?

Actually, a lot

Lilia thinks, if we are being honest, very highly of himself, having aged like fine wine and all of that

But even fine wine isn't always to everyone's taste (and I think that this one is one of those)

So here we are, giving our most favorite Fae version of pressed aged grape juice a game he has been thinking of getting

The fact that you bought the limited edition doesn't make it any better

You see, Lilia would even worship the ground you walk on even if you were to hate him with a passion that rivals thousands of suns

And now you are even remembering he once mumbled whilst passing by

“Oh Overseer! This humble servant of yours is always at your service, with or without a present from you!” “Ok Lilia... you can stand up now...”

But let's not dwell too long on the happy parts of this (this is a yandere au after all)

One day he was just walking down the Hallway, his day being wonderful...

And then he choose war

Why? Well he noticed that you remembered exactly as much about the others when you said to an Octavinelle student that they mentioned that months ago, a privilege he thought only he had

Will he rip them in two in front of your eyes? No

He isn't uncultured and leads you out of the room, then the ripping can start

And boy must he be having fun because all you hear is his laughter

After that it's safe to say that no one other than him and his little family approach you

So why not make fond memories with them? And only them. Wouldn't want to make Lilia being a bit too much like his younger self again, right?

[sourw0lfs]

frosting the snowman

written for @thefreakandthehair spicy six winter challenge prompt: decorating cookies | also on ao3

betas: @imfinereallyy & @jkrockin

2.1k words | teen and up | steddie | cw: implied sex at least twice

How hard could it be?

How hard could it be?

Glancing between the recipe and the mess around him, Eddie decides that either the answer is ‘very’, or he is, in fact, a fool. There’s flour strewn across the counter. Or maybe it’s sugar? He isn’t exactly sure because it all looks the same. Either way, he’s got quite a mess on his hands, and… probably ten minutes before Steve gets back. Fuck.

Still in the process of developing a battle plan to tackle the mess, Eddie lets out a shriek at the sound of the front door opening. Steve, one foot still outside and letting snowflakes in, freezes and stares at him like he’s grown a second head. “Do I want to know what kind of Munson Tornado hit the kitchen this time?”

Eddie sulks just a little, though he’ll deny it later. “I was trying to surprise you,” he mutters petulantly. 

Steve chuckles. “Well, I’m certainly surprised, so mission accomplished,” he says as he finishes stepping inside, letting the door fall shut behind him. He toes off his boots, leaving them by the door with the rest of the shoe pile, before heading to the kitchen to inspect the damages. 

Still pouting, Eddie watches him. “I wanted to make cookies,” he explains as Steve swipes a bit of flour off the counter with his fingertip. “Except that I forgot I don’t actually know how to do that.”

“Want me to help you?” Steve asks as he leans in to press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. It’s enough to wipe the pout right away. 

“Is it still surprising you with cookies if you help me make them?” Eddie asks, raising a doubtful eyebrow.

Taking a moment to think it over, Steve shrugs. “It’s a surprise that we have all the ingredients,” he offers. 

It’s good enough for Eddie, who’s back to smiling as they work in tandem to clean up his mess and start over again. There’s something magical about watching Steve bake, a grace that Eddie is sure he’ll never be able to mimic, no matter how hard he tries. The mess is minimal this time, with just the smallest puffs of flour flying free of the mixer bowl as it stirs rather than a full-on tornado. 

Once everything is mixed together and, like, actually a dough this time, Eddie is ready to immediately cut into it with the festive cookie cutters he’d gotten specifically for today. Still, Steve stops him, earning another pout. “It has to chill first,” Steve explains. “Or they’re not as good.”

Eddie thinks that’s a lie, but he doesn’t argue with Steve. After all, it’s Steve’s surprise, so Eddie thinks he should do as he’s told. So he helps wrap the dough in plastic wrap and puts it in the fridge. “So, we’ve got an hour, right?” he asks with a smirk. “What should we do to pass that time?”

“I’m sure we can think of something,” Steve replies with a smirk of his own, already reaching out for Eddie’s hand to pull him toward their bedroom. 

In the end, the dough sits in the fridge for over  an hour, but no one’s really complaining about it. The two of them just work together to get it rolled out, even though Eddie somehow gets the entire thing stuck on the rolling pin almost immediately because he doesn’t flour anything. Steve chastises him about it fondly. 

“Do you want… is that supposed to be a snowman?” Steve asks as he squints at the cookie cutter he just picked up. “That doesn’t look like a snowman.”

Eddie snorts but takes it anyway. “Are you body shaming the cookie cutter, Stevie? That’s kind of rude.”

“I’m not body shaming the cookie cutter. I’m just saying that it looks more like a dick than a snowman,” Steve explains with a roll of his eyes as he snatches the cookie cutter back from Eddie, noticing the mischief sure to be in Eddie’s eye “And now I don’t trust you with it. You can have the tree.”

Laughing, Eddie doesn’t argue. Instead, he focuses on cutting out as many trees from the circle of dough as he can. It’s not perfect, and he definitely messes up more than a few while moving them to the baking sheet, but most of them are kind of tree-shaped still and Steve is looking at him like he hung the moon so it’s gotta be fine. 

With the trees and the questionably-shaped snowmen cut out and in the oven, the two of them take a moment to clean up the newest mess, spreading it a little further in an impromptu flour fight for a moment before actually cleaning anything. Eventually the ding of a timer, one Eddie didn’t even realize Steve had set, chimes through the kitchen. 

“Well,” Eddie comments as he leans on the counter and watches Steve’s ass as he pulls the cookies out. “It smells like cookies, so I’m assuming that means they’re not a disaster this time?” 

Steve shrugs. “We’ll know for sure in like twenty minutes when they’re cool enough to taste.” 

“And then we decorate them, right?” 

Eddie doesn’t miss Steve’s grimace. “Yeah, Eds. We’ll decorate them once they’re cool.” 

If Eddie does a fist pump, that’s between him and Steve and the cookies only. He has to be good at that part. He paints stuff all the time. It’ll be his second chance to impress Steve with his cookie-making prowess, considering actually making the cookies hadn’t gone quite to plan. 

Waiting for the cookies to cool off enough to actually put the icing on them, though, feels like it’s taking forever. It's so long that Eddie’s taken up a seat on the couch, feet against the back and head on the floor, singing an impromptu song about being impatient. Steve, for what it’s worth, looks like he’s trying to follow the song, but he’s mostly just checking the cookies every thirty seconds while side-eyeing Eddie super hard. 

“Do you wanna help me mix the icing?” he asks eventually. 

Eddie nearly falls in a heap in his haste to right himself again. “Does that mean they’re cool enough now? Is the long wait finally over?”

Snorting, Steve nods. “Get in here and pick your colors.”

Bounding into the kitchen, Eddie takes a second to appreciate the fact that at some point during his serenade to impatience, Steve had taken the time to lay out bowls and all of the food coloring in the house. “You’re amazing,” he sing-songs as he hovers into Steve’s space to plant a kiss on his cheek. “What would I do without you?”

This time, Steve chuckles. “Lose your head, burn down the kitchen, spiral into a deep, deep boredom. Take your pick.”

Which— rude, but honestly kind of fair. “All of the above, and I love you for making sure those things don’t happen,” Eddie agrees as he starts picking through the colors. On the other side of the kitchen, he hears the mixer running again. A glance over his shoulder reveals a puff of powdered sugar, and maybe it’s best he’s not helping with that part if even Steve can’t keep the mess contained. 

But sooner than later, Steve is scooping the icing (“That looks like jizz, Stevie, what the fuck?”) into the bowls he’s put out, and Eddie is put to the task of mixing colors. He probably takes it more seriously than he needs to, but eventually, they have an array of Christmas-y colors to work with. He’s only just pulled open the drawer that Steve keeps his fancy piping bags in when a paintbrush is shoved in his face instead. “Nuh-uh,” Steve tells him with a cheeky grin. “I don’t trust you with those.”

Sighing dramatically, Eddie takes the paintbrush, but he’s grinning the whole time anyway. “That’s fine, I don’t trust me with them either.” 

If anything, the paintbrush feels the most natural, even if all the videos he’d watched about how to make the cookies used piping bags for decorating. He would just have to be extra good at this part to impress Steve with his artistic skills. But finally, finally, they migrate to the kitchen table and get the cookies split between the two of them. Deciding to be at least a little normal to start out, Eddie dips the brush into the bowl of green and drops the glob right in the middle of his tree cookie. 

Tongue between his teeth, Eddie lets himself laser focus on getting the color on as evenly as possible, not even looking up to see what Steve is doing until the whole tree is bright green. When he does look up, Eddie frowns. “That’s cheating!” he accuses as Steve works on his own cookie with a piping bag of icing. The very same bags Eddie wasn’t allowed. 

“It’s not cheating,” Steve replies without missing a beat or even looking up. “I know how to use these, and you don’t.”

And, like, yeah, fair, whatever. But that doesn’t mean Eddie can’t pout a little bit. “How am I supposed to impress you with my cookies if you’re like a baker extraordinaire?” he whines slightly.

This time, Steve looks up, and his expression is endearingly soft and fond. “You know you don’t have to do things to impress me, right?” he asks gently. 

Eddie nods. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like doing it anyway, though.”

It was just a thing they did, being proud of each other over new accomplishments. It always made Eddie feel warm and fuzzy inside. Like baking cookies. Something he knows Steve likes that Eddie also wants to be good at so they can do it together and have a good time. Just like… they are now. Maybe he’s a little dumb.

“Consider me impressed, then,” Steve tells him with a smile as he goes back to carefully piping lines on his snowman cookie. “And even more if you manage to make all of them look normal and not like they’re out of some fantasy novel.”

Eddie snorts, but it’s enough to get him focusing on his tree again. “Fantasy trees would be so much fun, though,” he points out as he diligently covers them all in green icing anyway. Doesn’t stop him from trying to paint on fantasy-esque ornaments anyway.

The cookies are about halfway done when Eddie finally decides he’s actually bored of it and flicks his paintbrush in Steve’s direction. A drop of bright blue lands in his carefully leveled out white icing, and he looks up with a raised eyebrow. 

“Wanna go fuck again and finish these later?” Eddie asks hopefully. “Let them dry or whatever for a bit.”

“Finish the base layers on all of them, and we can,” Steve bargains. And it’s not a no, so Eddie decides he’ll take it. 

Finishing up the cookies feels like a chore now that he’s decided it’s boring, though, so maybe his paint strokes are a little sloppier than before. It’s probably fine. No one is going to see them but him and Steve anyway, right?

“Did you have a plan for all of these cookies?” Steve asks as he finishes up the last of the snowmen. “Or did you just think that we’d be the ones eating all…” he does a quick count, “forty-seven of them.”

Which, when Steve says it like that, maybe assuming no one else would see them was a dumb move. Even if Eddie is good with eating the majority of them, that’s a lot of cookies for just two people. “We can give the nicer ones away to our friends, I guess? But only the nicer ones.” 

Steve chuckles as he grabs one of the remaining trees to help Eddie finish up. “So only the ones I do, then?” he asks as his eyes flick between the two sets. And yeah, Eddie can give him that one. Even though he’s good at painting, icing and actual paint are, in fact, very different. 

“Yes,” Eddie admits softly but they’re both grinning so it’s probably fine. “That’s the last one, so can we go fuck now? I’d prefer my brain to be mush from that than from this.” 

“Yeah,” Steve laughs brightly as he stands from the table and offers a hand out to Eddie. “Yeah, we can go do that. Decided this isn’t the hobby for you?”

“No, no, definitely not. It’s mind-numbing,” Eddie replies as he takes the hand happily, using the leverage to pull Steve into a kiss where he also swoops a sneaky streak of royal icing down his cheek. 

“Eddie!”

Cackling, Eddie lets go of Steve and scurries down the hallway to their bedroom for the second time that afternoon. If some of the icing follows them, well, it’s all fun and games, and they can do laundry. 

It wouldn’t be the first weird stain their bedding has gotten on it, anyway. 

[urachiiiiii]

masterlist for my human au atwow headcanons!!

(mostly for reference when I'm writing so there's some pretty specific things; might update it ocasionally)

Jake

slight dad bod

either in classical home depot dad attire or using the clothes from his 20s there's no in between

looks great with stubble and goes days without shaving but never to the point of growing a full beard (says it makes him look old)

used to have a "show me your boobs if you hate racism" shirt but Neytiri made him get rid of it when she got pregnant

uses the same beat-up running shoes from when he was a teen for any occasion

a sucker for bands from his teens to this day. will die loyal to the late 90s bc he's a young soul (Neytiri says he's just a manchild)

lets his hair grow out after the navy and it makes him look so much younger. Neytiri is actually spooked at how much he looks like he traveled back in time to his teens

used to pick up Spider to go to school when his dad wouldnt take him

never reads the instructions on how to assemble the ikea furniture but somehow gets it done perfectly every single time

cried when he found out about Kiri's first time bc his little girl was growing up too fast for him to keep up

big Queen enthusiast and raised his kids knowing every lyric to every song. if he's listening to bohemian rhapsody on the living room speakers you BET every single one of the Sullys will belt out the mama part no matter how far away they are located

likes to play rough with the kids like he did with Tommy when they were small and they all love it but he doesn't do it as much ever since Tuk hit her head on the ceiling when she was 5

used one of Neytiri's organic face masks once only to discover he's allergic to nuts. one trip to the ER later and now they are forbidden to enter the house

insists on driving the whole way on road trips even though Neytiri insists on switching

swears like a sailor and has to hold himself near Tuk because she's a big copycat and Neytiri wants her to be innocent for a little longer unlike her other children

emotionally stunted to the point where he really wants to express his feelings but it just doesn't come out bc he was never taught how to properly do so when he was young. his love language is more based on actions rather than words because of that

too hardheaded to wear sunscreen, always goes home from the beach looking like a shrimp

don't talk to him before his morning coffee

Neytiri

absolutely despised Jake's accent and taught him out of it once he moved to Pandora (pretend it's a country and not a planet) just bc she was so annoyed whenever he talked

forced every single one of the kids (and Jake) to download life360 ever since Tuk got lost in the mall and they found her hiding inside a mannequin's skirt three hours later

her love language is physical affection, always hugging and kissing and patting her children's heads even if they complain

very liberal about subjects that would embarrass other parents; she was raised without shame and is very comfortable with human nature. whenever the kids need to confide something like first periods, first times and emotional stuff like they always go to her first

Mo'at is black and Eytukan was traditional na'vi; her dark skin tone is her mother's but she inherited her father's hair so it's naturally straight like in the movies. Neteyam's hair is like hers but Lo'ak and Tuk's are like their grandma's

cleans the entire house whenever she needs to calm herself

hc her working as an elementary teacher, inspired by her own experience with Grace and how well she did; she wishes she could be a good influence for young children as her own teacher was

really loud inside her own home, yells a lot even when she's not mad, she's just a naturally loud speaker

threw Lo'ak's GTA cd out the window like a frisbee when she found out you could hire hookers and run over people

early bird, wakes up at like 5 in the morning even on the weekends

uses organic and/or homemade products on her hair and skin

always snacking on some fruit

walks around the house naked all the time as if they didn't have any windows or neighbors

after her dad's death she has at least one of his personal beads on her hair at all times. even when it's loose she makes one tiny braid to put a bead on

really tall and slender body, Tuk says she's built like a model

eats about anything people offer her, no matter how exotic. Jake still gags when he remembers the beetle incident on their honeymoon

Neteyam

Starboy is his favorite album of all time (sidewalks is his and Lo'ak's ultimate comfort song bc it has kendrick in it)

has asthma but even so he's really good at most sports as long as he doesn't overdo it

kind of a fuckboy but not in a player way. he just doesn't have the time for anything serious so he blows off some steam once in a while but doesn't commit. he makes his intentions clear for everyone involved tho

very clean and needs to take at least 2 showers everyday or else he feels icky

no gag reflex (really cool party tricks except when he actually chokes on something)

got his belly button pierced so that he could match his mother's own. also let Kiri pierce his septum after she pierced her nose (it got infected oops)

loves dancing and knew basically all the choreos in dance central by heart. is too shy to go off in public though unless his siblings dance with him or he's drunk

shoe crazy. has so many pairs and treats them all so well, doesn't let anyone borrow them and if you step on one of those you might just as well jump off a bridge. you're dead mate

made fun of his mom for playing candy crush once but ended up downloading it and liking the game more than she did (still plays it to this day unironically)

splotch of vitiligo on the back of his neck the shade of his dad's skin that kind of resembles texas (Jake tells him it's the only real proof people need to know he's actually his son. Lo'ak calls him 99 dark chocolate)

has a very high pain tolerance but secretly likes to be coddled so he turns into a baby whenever he gets a harmless injury just so people can take care of him

sagittarius

contact lenses for reading but has a pair of glasses he uses sometimes when at home

when Ao'nung flirted with him at first he would scoff and act annoyed but started to miss it when he stopped doing it because he asked to

never actively came out to his parents. they just used their sixth sense and decided he was gay one day when he was a boy and once he grew up and didn't correct them they just went w it

overall masculine but picked some feminine traits from his mother and grandma (sitting w his legs crossed, painting his nails, tweezing his eyebrows and using feminine clothing sometimes)

Neytiri's face with Jake's body

really ticklish

Kiri

on the spectrum

nonbinary but doesn't really care about how she passes, pronouns and stuff like that. mostly just does her thing whenever and however she feels like it

sneezes like a grandpa

natural ginger but dyes her hair black bc she doesn't like standing out from her siblings too much (being white is already enough)

had a colossal crush on Spider when going through puberty but will never admit it

had her first epileptic episode when watching Lo'ak play geometry dash on the family tablet; the game has since been banned from the house to her brothers dismay

cuts her hair herself

paints all over her walls

has mild emetophobia so she doesn't drink or go on roller coasters bc she's scared she'll throw up; gags whenever she hears the sound of gagging

pierced the side of her nose and gave herself 2 stick and poke tattoos when she was 15; Neytiri was furious she didn't ask her to do it instead

loathes the feeling of Jake's stubble due to her sensory issues but still makes an effort when it's hugging/kissing time bc she knows he likes it and doesn't want him to feel bad and shave it

freckles and moles all over her body

has more body hair than most girls but refuses to shave and sometimes paints her arm hair just to see people's baffled reactions

bites down on things and people randomly out of nowhere and no one knows why, not even herself (her favorite target is Tuk's head)

stims by pulling her hair, listening to the same song over and over again, rocking back and forth and (strangely) smelling Rotxo

VERY sensitive to smells. steers far away from Lo'ak whenever he hasn't showered in a bit or starts sweating

doodles on every single thing in her possession. the whole bathroom mirror is full of drawings and even if someone cleans it they just come back

not shy at all, just an introvert. most people actually think she's very pleasant and knows how to carry a good conversation (she simply chooses not to)

aquarius

had the nasty habit of putting her finger inside people's mouths when they yawned; stopped doing that after Neytiri bit her once

Lo'ak

astoundingly HORRIFYING posture. his shadow looks like a tim burton character

lactose intolerant but loves cheesy things (always forgets his lactase tablets and has to go running to the bathroom whenever he eats out)

managed adhd and anger issues

aries (surprise surprise)

considers himself bi but would rather DIE than actually enter a romantic relationship with a man

used to make gagging sounds at Kiri just to see her suffer whenever she pissed him off when they were kids. stopped after she actually threw up one day and his mom yelled at him

real life definition of light skin stare; caramel skin, blue eyes like his daddy, jaw and cheekbones to kill for and full lips. constantly doing The Face™ just to see Tuk laugh

acts tough but is kind of a pussy and gets scared really easily when it comes to horror movies, roller coasters and stuff like that

has a big brownish burn mark on his hip from when he tried to make french fries and dropped a pan of hot oil; tells people he just has vitiligo like his brother but for some reason they don't believe him (doesn't know that vitiligo only comes in white and his siblings don't tell him bc its funny seeing him embarrass himself)

sleeps with his mouth open and drools an ocean every night, constantly has to wash the pillow cover

whenever his mom has an appointment at the beauty salon he goes with her just to see Tsireya working. secretly likes it when she has free time and practices on his nails but would rather be caught dead than say it out loud

calls his sister a racist whenever she says anything against him and watches her get flustered and splutter like its the funniest thing in the world (it indeed is)

pierced one ear but passed out when Neytiri went to pierce the other bc he has no pain tolerance whatsoever

doesn't stink per se, he's always got some cologne and body spray on and has good hygiene; the thing is he sweats really easily and has a naturally strong body odor so he doesn't smell all the time, but when he does its really strong

in love with Tsireya's stomach rolls

Jake's face with Neytiri's body

Tuktirey

despite common belief she is definitely NOT an ipad kid. this child runs around jumping anywhere every chance she gets; very physically active and can't stand still playing with one thing for too long

has absolutely no shame at all. runs around butt-naked and uses the toilet with her siblings still in the bathroom all the time, simply couldn't give less of a fuck (it's a Neytiri trait but she will never admit it)

watches coryxkenshin with Neteyam every chance they get and both enjoy it equally bc he's funny as hell and family friendly at that

has a gap on her front teeth she uses to squirt choco milk out of (Lo'ak thinks it's the funniest shit he's ever seen but Neteyam always yells at her when she does it)

loves touching her dad's stubble and loves it when he gives her kisses because it tickles

taller than most kids her age (Neytiri hopes she grows even more before her first period so that she doesn't stop growing and end up a sixth-grade sized teen)

crackhead gemini

knows more than the grown ups think she does but acts innocent and clueless to create awkward moments because she likes seeing them squirm (menace)

has a really slow brain to mouth filter, always says the rudest and most awkward things even when she doesn't mean to, ends up embarrassing people really easily

loves feeling useful, you could ask her to paint the fence with water and she would do it if she thought it was helping you

really easy to please; plays with girl and boy toys, uses boy and girl clothes, could be satisfied both by going to the movies or playing on a puddle of mud

took a while to speak and her first word was "dumb" after seeing Neteyam walk into a glass door

annoys her siblings until they let her tag along to their teenage adventures; thankfully most of their friends like her

covers for the teens when they need but it always comes with a cost (makes them buy candy and robux for her)

kind of kid to crawl inside public bathroom stalls through under the door (Neytiri and Kiri can't let go of her hand anymore when they go)

Tonowari

Maori king

built like a refrigerator, works out but somehow still manages to have a beer belly

even tho he's always busy at work he finds time to do house chores, not just because he wants to ease Ronal's burden but also bc he actually likes acting like a housewife (it relaxes him)

meanest man to ever exist behind a grill. doesn't matter if he shouldnt or cant, he WILL grill every single thing in his line of sight

fishing dad!! takes the kids on fishing trips monthly and they love it. has a picture of him with a fish about his size from when he was twelve and cherishes it to this day

was a really cool guy in his teens, a total chick magnet and competed in surfing. his childhood acquaintances say how much Ao'nung reminds of him back then all the time and he's so proud of it

passed out in the room seeing Ao being born. thought he was prepared when it was Tsireya's turn but Ronal passed out so he did too

inhumane alcohol tolerance; usually when they have a cookout he drinks the whole day without even realizing and everybody wonders if he's secretly an alcoholic but no. he's just built different

the other women in the neighborhood are soooo jealous of Ronal because he's the best husband ever

didn't actually plan on becoming mayor; the people actually asked him to do so because he's so likable and such a natural leader it was such a great fit

has really full eyebrows he also passed on to his kids. Ronal tries tweezing them but he doesn't let her

socks with sandals

does woodwork as a hobby, creates some beautiful traditional stuff and actually built most of the furniture in the house. currently making a big swing for when the baby is a bit older (Ao and Reya are jealous)

the house they currently live in is a house built long ago that is passed down to the respective mayors. it was already a really nice house but he made sure to renovate all of it himself bc he's a handy dad

built a small pool house in the backyard under the excuse that the teens needed a spot to hang out when they have friends over. he secretly meant for it to be Rotxo's space for when he needed some alone time. he let it decorate it the way he liked and it's more of a guest house nowadays bc his nephew managed to turn the thing into an actual livable place

accidentally one-ups all the dads in town without noticing ("oh your son started swimming? thats really nice, Ao'nung started at three years old! :D)

Ronal

was a family doctor but decided to quit once she got pregnant to focus on her family. is now the headmaster of Awa'atlu's local high school and the students are terrified of her (she loves it)

wine mom

also an ingredient mom

people think she's so much younger than Tonowari but she's actually the oldest one (she's past her fifties don't tell anyone)

has a big wooden box of every gift and letter the kids have given her throughout the years

gossiping is one of her favorite pastimes but she's not fake about it. she'll talk shit ab you for sure AND will do it to your face too but will also give you advice if you ask her for it

skincare queen!! full of oils and lotions to prevent stretch marks when she's pregnant, always smells divine because of it

knits whenever she's stressed out. usually does rugs and blankets though since Awa'atlu is so damn warm no one would be insane enough to put on a sweater

made a handmade individual album for every one of the kids from their birth to now

has mad steel guts; could see a plane crash and burn right in front of her and wouldn't even flinch, which is good for emergencies but also freaks people out (understandably). her excuse is that being a doctor and raising three children does that

made sure all of her births were natural just to prove she was strong enough to do so even though no one ever doubted her

Roa (pretend shes a bulldog) was a pregnancy gift from Rotxo's dad (who was also her twin). she didn't like it that much bc shes not really big on animals but when he died she warmed up to her because she reminded her of her brother. now they even sleep in the same bed and nobody is allowed to discipline Roa but her because she "doesn't want any of them treating her badly"

strict open door and visible hands policies when people come over

treats Rotxo as if he was her own son and will murder anyone that dares say otherwise

she was pregnant once before Ao'nung but had a miscarriage due to stress; it was one of the main reasons she quit her job, she didn't want to risk that happening again and feeling that amount of pain once more

wasnt really big on the idea of tattoos when she was younger and didn't want to do any even if it was part of the Metkayina culture. changed her mind instantly when she saw Tonowari's first tattoo and how great it looked on him

always know when the kids are up to no good and think they're slick (side eyes Tsireya whenever her and Lo'ak are under a blanket together and never lets Ao and Neteyam sleep in the same room)

is harder on Ao'nung rather than her other children not because he's the eldest but because she sees so much of her teen self in him. she doesn't want him to lose his best years by isolating himself due to being so judgemental like she was

does most of her chores with Tsireya and really appreciates how much she takes after her father - she always offers help right away and does everything with a smile on her face even if she doesn't know how to do it and she really admires her daughter for it

Ao'nung

looks great with facial hair but doesn't grow a beard bc his mom doesn't let him (it reminds her of how old she's getting so she makes him shave it off). once he's finally able to rock a light goatee without her interfering she swoons at how handsome her big baby looks

used to be a chubby kid but after puberty and several growth spurts along with swimming he's in pretty good shape for his age. also works out with his dad sometimes

could wash his hair with only dish soap and it would still be naturally majestic. only uses plain shampoo and conditioner (it revolts everyone in the house)

tallest in the friend group and keeps putting things out of people's reach because he's kind of a dick

got a matching traditional Metkayina tattoo with Rotxo as soon as he turned eighteen (Ronal let the younger one do it even though he wasn't of age just because she thought it was so cute)

really squirmish unlike his mother and will pass out immediately at the sight of blood

doesn't listen to music all that much, so his taste is mostly Rotxo's and Tsireya's songs

the only reason they got a pool built in the first place was because of him. develops chronic depression whenever he's dry for too long (Ronal says his father used to be just like him and compares him to a little fish)

snacks on the most diabolical things ever (raw pasta with peanut butter and such delicacies) because hes too lazy to cook a proper meal just for himself

talks big talk but actually can't fight for his life 💀 the attitude makes up for it at least

best swimmer Awa'atlu High has seen ever since his dad

plays the guitar and had a band with Rotxo and Reya just for shits and giggles. they were actually pretty good

laughs at people presenting in front of the class (when its his turn he tells them to shut up)

although he's really known at school due to his abilities and parents most of the kids don't like him because of his resting bitch face syndrome, they think he's stuck-up when he's actually just chilling

leo

snores like a truck

kind of mf to turn to you in class with the most devilish grin when the teacher is scolding you just so you laugh and get scolded even more

asked Rotxo to share a room with him because he didn't want to be lonely

Rotxo

goes surfing to Three Brothers Rocks at least once a month to smoke with Ao

baby blue and aqua green braces

younger than Ao'nung but is one year ahead so he's in his grade

pisces

very insecure ab his looks because he's smaller than others his age and has braces and acne scars. truth is he's a cutie pie and once he hits his last stop in puberty train he's going to be a chick magnet

his hair routine is insanely detailed. puts a lot of effort into it and it shows. absolutely beautiful curls

naturally smart; doesn't make as much of an effort as Neteyam or Tsireya but still has above average grades

sometimes people look at him and just laugh because he zones out so often it looks like there are absolutely no thoughts behind those big ol green eyes

even though he's smart, the subjects only make sense in his own head, so he is a terrible teacher

will be talking to you looking like a cutie patootie while listening to the most explicit horniest whorish songs on planet earth on his earphones. AND he knows all the lyrics too

asked Tonowari for a huge aquarium in the living room, takes care of the little fishies religiously and knows how to differentiate all of them, also gave them all names

certified munch

pretty shy but once he gets to know you says the most out of pocket things ever because he hardly has any filter. so unintentionally funny

drops a beat out of nowhere and gets everyone cronk about it because its actually pretty good (Lo'ak starts freestyling on it but they all shut him down real quick)

makes bracelets and necklaces for the people he loves

the type of person to start telling a story and have a laughing fit in the middle of it so no one actually understands it by the end

an absolute beast on the drums. actually the only way he found to healthily manage his anger so whenever he plays he goes all out to the point it's just scary (or hot but that's for you to decide)

Tsireya

slightly chubby and has wide hips and big thighs like her mother; used to be insecure about it but started not minding as much as she got older.

very healthy, loves salad and fruit and natural juices and smoothies and all of the things most teens hate

loves pink. its her favorite color of all time and she has dyed some streaks of her hair when she was younger (didn't look great but she loved it regardless bc it was pink!!)

started working in a beauty salon and trained her nail painting skills on everyone for a month. nobody complained bc she's actually really talented and they came out great everytime

big sza beyonce and doja cat gal. ocasionally listens to kim petras bc she's pretty and bc she thinks some of her songs are funny

loves sweet things for breakfast

takes a lot after her mother in her mannerisms but looks just like her father and is a total daddy's girl

carries a huge 2-liter hydroflask with a dangling bell keychain with her everywhere she goes and it annoys the shit out of everyone. doesn't care bc shes unbothered hydrated and flourishing

always wearing lip gloss

watches courteezy religiously and thinks she's the funniest

has a pet hamster named Shuu The Third; the other two didn't manage to escape Tonowari's grasp (he sat on them)

has an entire desk in her room just for doing her makeup. it's a very natural aesthetic, never looks exaggerated but it takes a lot of care nevertheless

in love with Lo'ak's smile. thinks he's the most handsome boy alive

very girly girl and takes a lot of pride in it, people usually thinks she's dumb or superficial bc of her looks but she's full of personality and really smart; actually just likes the process of putting effort into her appearance

has HELLISH periods. her parents were actually scared she was developing a personality disorder after puberty because her pms turns her into a straight up bitch (turns out she just had endometriosis and was in excruciating pain most of the time)

has the voice of an angel and would sing on her brothers band just because she liked seeing them have fun with something other than swimming and surfing

ugliest laugh of all time. sounds like that one girl on that vine "not to be racist or anything but asian people..."

makes her own scented candles and spreads them all around the house

really good dancer, made her own dance club with some of her friends at school

cancer

Spider

speaks fluent spanish

runs real fast and also does parkour. doesn't even break a sweat, this boys got some insane stamina

huge '80s and '90s latino music fanboy bc of his mama

the kind of dude to say stuff like "later skater", "smell you later" and "deuces" unironically

legally changes his name to Spider Socorro as soon as he gets the chance (middle name is Oscar so it actually spells S.O.S which he thinks is rad as fuck)

only smaller than Ao'nung in their friend group and constantly being asked to pick things up from high places

absolute whore for spicy food and has crazy tolerance. Lo'ak always challenges him to food competitions (loses every time)

had a gigantic crush on Kiri while going through puberty and lowkey still does but he cherishes their friendship too much to tell her. kind of also thinks she deserves better

breaks bones like they're made of glass bc he has no survival instincts and throws himself off of ledges and small buildings like it's nothing thinking he has plot armor

hair straight in the roots, wavy in the middle and curly in the ends. absolute mad genetics

corniest mf to ever exist, will use the most stupid pickup lines ever but he enjoys it so much they actually turn funny

not exactly ripped but he does have plenty of muscle and the girls in school all wonder what he does to have a six pack (absolutely nothing, just climbs walls all day and has crazy metabolism privileges)

skates ever since he was a kid, total sk8er boy

terrible swimmer, can't hold his breath for shit

his closet consists of flannels and jeans and one single pair of beat up black converses

taurus

has dyslexia so has a hard time at school and barely gets any help from his father, Neteyam and Kiri do their best to help him though

[suppose-i-was-worm]

Sheets on the Tables and Chairs

**I didn't want to make this a series but then I had ideas, so. Here goes! First person to guess where the titles are coming from gets a free prompt fill.**

The zeta-beam activated, and Alfred watched as Signal came through, taking off his helmet as he entered the cave.

“Hey, Alf- B is bringing guests with him.”

“Thank you, master Duke. Adults or adolescents?”

“Adults, a man and a woman. They’re probably staying.”

“I will have rooms made up.”

Duke shuffled his feet a little.

“Probably staying longer than a night.”

Alfred nodded, putting down his finished work to begin making his way up the cave stairs.

“Thank you for the information, master Duke.”

Nodding, Duke headed to the showers, and Alfred continued to the stairs.

The zeta-beam activated again, and then twice more. Assuming it was the rest of the clan, Alfred paused at the base of the stairs.

“Welcome home.”

Bruce’s voice cut through the chirping of the bats high above. A good butler would never sigh out loud, but Alfred definitely did in his heart. He loved his master, the closest thing he would ever have to a son, but he would bet his entire career that the newcomers had black hair and blue eyes.

He missed Daniel too, but that didn’t mean he went around collecting similar looking children.

“It becomes harder to legally adopt people the older they are, Master Bruce.”

Alfred turned to greet their guests, only to stop still and stare. As a rule, Alfred did not stare. It was impolite. But how- how could he not, in this situation?

“Why would I need to adopt my own brother, Alfred?”

Standing there, standing shoulder to shoulder with Bruce, was Daniel Wayne. The man had Thomas’ chin- both of the Wayne boys did, it was a dominant trait, but other than that, he was Martha all over.

A slight form- not weak, but with lithe grace, dark brown hair that was almost black, and blue eyes that burned on either side of an aquiline nose.

Next to him stood a young woman, with the same quirk of her lips that Thomas had- the same shaped hands.

“My god.”

The cave went completely silent, other than the bats going about their days. All of the children had stopped still at Alfred’s words, and even Bruce looked a little stunned.

“You must be Alfred.”

Daniel- for it must be Daniel, who else? Stepped forward, holding out a callused hand.

“Sorry it took me so long to come back to you.”

Alfred allowed himself a moment of weakness and reached up to cup Daniel’s face instead of shaking his hand.

“My dear boy- dear boy.”

Daniel smiled and covered Alfred’s hands with his own, and Alfred felt something settle in him that had been broken since he’d helplessly watched a toddler fall through a strange portal. Daniel’s hands were warm, and Alfred could faintly feel his pulse through his own gloves.

“Welcome home, Daniel.”

“Thank you, Alfred. I’d like you to meet my sister- Well, both of them, eventually, but Danielle for now.”

Alfred stepped back, and they both turned to the young woman, who was smiling a little sadly. She waved, and Alfred held his hands out to her.

“Dear girl, thank you for taking care of him- and yourself as well.”

She took his hands, and hers were as warm as Daniel’s.

“Does it bother you that I’m his clone?”

“Dani!”

Daniel sounded scandalized, but Alfred just shook his head.

“Not at all, my dear. That just means I have more family to love.”

Her smile became infinitely less sad.

~~~

“I think we should buy flowers for Danny’s grave.”

The entire room of batsiblings looked up at Dick from their various evening pursuits. The three (three!) Wayne siblings and Alfred had gone to pay their respects to Martha and Thomas (and Danny, somehow?).

“Why do you think it matters?”

“It’s a nice thing to do?”

Tim and Damian both scoffed at the same time, in exactly the same way, and then they glared at each other.

Cass raised her hand.

“Yes, Cass?”

Everyone looked over to Cass, who signed ‘good idea’ before turning her attention back to her book.

“I agree.”

Dick startled and whipped his head around to look at Jason, standing in the doorway.

“Jason?”

“I- I think it would be a kind gesture, is all.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at Jason, and then cocked his head to the side.

“Does this have something to do with him teaching you about being dead?”

Jason flushed bright red.

“I- I don’t know. Shut up.”

Tim stood up and put his computer to the side, holding out his hand for Steph, who was lounging on the floor.

“Well, if Cass says it’s a good idea, I’ll run with it. Do we want to get the flowers now, or?”

“Might be a little weird if we’re all gone when they get back inside.”

Duke was sprawled out on the other couch, comment almost muffled by the cushions.

“That’s true,” Dick scratched his head, wondering about the best way to get flowers quickly.

Tim brushed past him and headed out towards the main foyer.

“Don’t worry, Dick, I texted DoorDart.”

Dick followed his little brother, knowing by experience that the rest of the siblings would come behind.

“You can get flowers on DoorDart?”

There was a knock on the front door, and Dick saw Tim’s mischievous grin.

“If it’s really your superpowered boyfriend you can.”

Dick darted forward and swung the door open to see Connor Kent standing on the stoop, carrying two massive bouquets. He smiled sheepishly at Dick, and then thrust both bundles of flowers into his arms.

“Hi Dick, hi Tim! Here’s what you asked for. Wish I could stay, but I have to go help Ma at the farm.”

Tim darted around Dick and shared a quick kiss with Superboy before the kryptonian lifted off into the air.

~~~

Bruce held tight to both Danny and Dani’s hands as they made their way back into the manor. Seeing Danny’s grave had obviously been emotional for both of them, and introducing his younger siblings to his parents graves had been emotional for him. Alfred had headed inside before them, claiming that he had to start on dinner.

Bruce was pretty sure he was just making sure the kids hadn’t managed to burn down the building from the inside.

As they approached the path to the manor, Danny spoke up.

“Dani and I- we can’t stay for long.”

Reflexively, Bruce tightened his grip on both of the hands in his, and then loosened it, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks.

Danny laughed lightly.

“It would be nice to, but we have responsibilities. Ghost King isn’t just a title.”

“We can visit, though,” Dani piped in. “Now that we know there’s family here. Jazz will want to meet you.”

“You won’t leave yet, though, will you?”

Bruce couldn’t help the pleading tone in his voice. He finally had his brother back!

“I’m sure we could stay for dinner.”

[vodika-vibes]

Today's writing practice got away from me, lol.

Word count: 936

Pairing: Marshal Commander Neyo x Reader

Songs: None

As far as you’re aware, Marshal Commander Neyo has two emotions: angry and apathetic. Of course, you’ve never seen Marshal Commander Neyo in his apathetic mood. No. You are one of the lucky few who only ever sees him as angry.

You’re beginning to think that it’s personal, that Marshal Commander Neyo personally hates you.

Of course, you can’t think of any reason why. You’ve been nothing but polite to him and his brothers. 

You make a face, “What do you think pal?” You ask, lightly prodding your little droid, and you grin when he flops into your touch like a Tooka kitten.

Your droid trills a response, and you sigh, “I can’t ignore him. I have to at least be able to work with him.” The droid trills again, and you laugh, “No, I can’t stab him either. It’s rude.”

“And illegal.”

You yelp at the unexpected voice, and spin in your chair rapidly enough that you lose your balance and both you, and the chair, clatter to the floor. You push the chair off your legs and blink up at the man, a dark flush crossing your face when you recognize who it is. “Commander Neyo.”

He raises a single brow, and looks wholly unimpressed, “Graceful.”

Somehow your blush grows even darker, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be down here with me!” You say defensively, “Or for anyone to be awake, for that matter.” You add as you carefully get back to your feet and right your chair.

He watches you, unmoving. “You skipped last meal.” He says as he folds his arms over his chest.

“I was busy,” You counter defensively, you’re always on the defensive with him. “I have ration bars in my quarters.” You add.

He scowls at you, “Those,” Commander Neyo says flatly, “Are not meals.”

You bristle, “It’s fine. I can probably stand to lose a few pounds anyway.”

His scowl deepens, and you wince. He definitely hates you.

“Was there something you needed, Commander?” You ask, trying to head off the scolding you’re about to get, “You came down here for a reason, right?”

Commander Neyo glowers at you, “You also skipped lunch.” He says as he takes a step closer, “I came down here because no one has seen you since breakfast.”

You blink at him, startled, “You were worried? About me?”

“Apparently with good reason,” Neyo snaps, “It’s nearly midnight and you’re down here, having only eaten one meal today. And don’t even think about joking about wanting to lose weight.” He adds sharply.

You continue to stare at him, wide eyed.

“Whoever told you that you need to lose weight either doesn’t have eyes,” He continues, uncaring about your silence, “Or they’re just trying to hurt you.”

“That…might actually be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” You say weakly, “And also the most you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t make it a big deal.” He says with a scowl.

“But it kind of is. I thought you hated me.” You reply blankly.

Something dark and forbidding crosses Commander Neyo’s face, “Who told you that?”

No one? Everyone? But, actually-

“One of the new guys. He said his name was Bolt.” You say honestly. 

The expression on Commander Neyo’s face becomes murderous, before going terrifyingly blank. RIP Bolt.

“I don’t hate you.” Neyo says, sounding very, very calm. You wonder if you need to message the General to put Bolt in protective custody. “The opposite, in fact.”

Wait. What?

You stare at him dumbfounded, and he sighs. He runs his fingers through his hair, a nervous tick you’ve never seen Neyo perform before, “Right. This is dumb.” He says suddenly. 

And then-

His hands are cupping your face and his lips are pressed firmly against your own. And you freeze, because this is impossible-

He pulls away, though he’s still close enough that you can feel his breath against your skin. “That was inappropriate of me. It won’t happen again.” But he’s still so close, pinning you against your workbench, and his gaze is locked with your own.

You hesitate, only long enough to take a breath, before you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down, crashing your lips against his in a much more passionate kiss. 

He presses himself firmly against you, the hard plastoid of his armor digging into you, and your hands slide from the back of his neck and into his hair, grabbing some of his hair to just try and ground yourself.

A ragged groan escapes his lips, and he pulls away to stare at you, slightly breathless, and a look of surprise on his face. A look that you shared. 

Carefully he reaches up and untangles your fingers from his hair, carefully threading your fingers with his. You watch, eyes wide, as he presses his forehead against yours and visibly pulls himself back together. It’s impressive, especially since you feel like you have bees under your skin.

His gaze locks with yours, “You need to get food, and go to bed.” 

“I…but…” That’s not at all what you want to do right now.

Neyo laughs softly, and it sends shivers down your spine, “I know. Later. I promise.” He reaches behind you, and very gently picks up your droid, before setting him in your arms. “Good night, cyare.”

“Um…good night.” You feel his lips, petal soft, against your temple, and then he’s gone as quickly and quietly as he arrived.

Your droid trills in your arms, bumping you with his head. “Looks like I was wrong, pal.” You say as you muffle a delighted giggle.

[lostgirlfandom]

Unrequited

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of sex, angst

Words: 523

Growing up with the Shelby's was an experience in itself. You grew up with tough skin since the boys were not gentle at all. You would think you had tough skin for the enigma that is Thomas Shelby. You can remember the moment you fell for him. It was before his first love... before he started to harden his heart. He helped to beat up a boy who wouldn’t take no for an answer. The boy had gotten too expectant with you and thought that all women were good for was to just to stay at home and be subservient to the men.

Tommy and the boys then decided he needed to be taught a lesson in messing with a Peaky girl. All the boys left you alone after that. After that, it was no surprise that you fell for him.

Then he met his first love... then she passed and then immediately following that he was sent to the War. Then he got back and the Shelby’s were different. They weren’t boys anymore... they were men.

You never made a move on Thomas, just letting him have his space... which was your mistake as he then met Grace. Grace was his everything. He almost changed for her. Until she was shot.

He closed off even more after that. Although you moved up you could say. You started to stay at the Shelby manor more often. Helping take care of Charlie and Tommy. Tommy was a mess after Grace died. You tried to be there for him as much as possible. Which somehow grew into you warming his bed. Almost every night, you would find yourself in bed with him.

You weren’t complaining at first. You knew that it would hurt, cause all you were was a replacement at the moment for Grace. You knew you could never live up to Grace. Grace was everything you weren’t. The mother of Charlie, the wife of Thomas... the love of Thomas’s life.

One night, you felt like you had enough. So, you walked into his office and stood at the door and leaned against the doorway with your arms crossed. Thomas was leaned back on his love seat and was smoking a cigarette. He looked up at you for a moment before raising an eyebrow at you in a questioning manner.

You pressed your lips together and sighed through your nose. “Tommy...” You started.

“Y/N...” he said back while tilting his head.

Licking your lips, “I can’t sleep with you anymore.... it’s getting to painful. I love you...” You let that sit in the air for a moment and you didn’t look to see his reaction. “I’m not trying to replace Grace. I won’t even try. But this has become too painful for me to stay. I’ll still come by for Charlie but I won’t try to bury myself into your heart when there isn’t room for me. I won’t force you to love me and I won’t force you to try either. Just... just know I love you and you’ll always have my support. And I’m sorry.”

You straightened up and turned to leave.

[beaniebeensbaby201]

NETEYAM X HUMAN READER PT 2:

A/n: So all of you loved the first part here is the second part for you loviess.

Summary: Neteyam and y/n have strong feelings for each other, only for reader to be human and that they can't really be together because of being different species.

This is based after ATWOW so l there might be hints of spoilers here and there.

3rd p.o.v

It's been two weeks since Neteyam and y/n have seen or heard from each other. Y/n was in the lab with Norm.

"What have you been working on lately? You're always hiding something from me." Y/n points out.

"It's a surprise. Don't worry you'll be able to see it soon." Y/n gives him a quizzical look, but he doesn't move or say anything.

"Have you talked to Neteyam?" Y/n froze. She folds her hands together on the metal table.

"No. And I'm not planning on it until my heart stops beating the way it does for him." She admits, tossing her hands in her hair as she let's out a frustrated growl.

"You can't ignore these feelings y/n." Y/n scoffed, his warm hand resting softly against her bare shoulder.

Y/n wears the same clothes as every other Na'Vi. Only today she's been wearing human clothes.

"I can if it means that our hearts will heal. Eywa made a mistake. She made me feel things for him that I myself can not explain." Norm sighed.

"I was going to keep this as a surprise, it's almost finished.' He started, y/n quickly looks up at the taller man standing beside her.

'What?" She asks, tilting her head to the side to look up at him.

"Follow me." Y/n slowly gets up and walks with the scientist.

"It was actually Jake's and Netyiri's idea. They hated seeing their son in pain, along with you. I used some of Graces' blood samples from her avatar, and I started to create one with Max. Max and I were somehow able to create you as an avatar, the link is almost finished." Y/n had tears in her eyes.

"How long have you been working on this?" Her voice barely above a whisper, scared her voice would crack from the tears pouring out of her eyes.

"Five years. Neteyam doesn't know either, but your nineteenth birthday is coming up in a few days, and you've been even more sad lately." Y/n rubs her fingers against the glass that held her avatar.

Her y/h/c was different compared to the avatar, it was a darker brown, the same tsaheylu as the other Na'Vi as she has her eyes closed.

"When can I go in?' Y/n asked, excitement bubbling her chest.

"Tomorrow. We can start in the early morning. We know you don't have training, but Jake didn't either when he started and you already know how it goes. We just want you two to be happy." Y/n sobbed as she held on to Norm tightly.

"Thank you, Norm. A million times thank you, and Max!" Y/n shouted for the dark curly haired man.

His head popped out as she quickly ran towards him, giving him a tight squeeze.

******

Y/n p.o.v

I woke up before dawn, I couldn't sleep as I was excited to wake up in my Avatar body. I knew the first person I had to find would be Jake and Neytiri. I knew the forest like the back of my hands, so Norm didn't have to come with me.

I quickly get out of bed and skipped to Norm on the balls of my feet.

Norm was already awake, as I stared him with a smile.

"I see you're ready." I quickly nod my head as I jump in the link.

"Just let your mind go blank." I nod my head, as Norm closed the door to the machine.

I closed my eyes. I woke up with lights in my eyes.

"Can you hear me, y/n?" I let out a small laugh, I raised my hands. They were blue!

"It worked!" I exclaimed.

"Can you wiggle your toes?" I nod my head, I wiggled my toes.

"Good, good." Norm said.

I sit up carefully as I plant my feet on the cold concrete floor.

"When am I able to see him?" I asked, as Norm was telling me to touch each fingers.

"Soon, we just have to finish this test." I nod my head, getting impatient.

I noticed that the door wasn't very far from where I was, I quickly get up.

"Damn it! Y/n, sit down!" I let out a laugh as I wasn't used to being so tall.

I gave Norm two thumbs up as I ran towards the door. My senses were heightened, my vision was better in my Avatar then it was in my human form.

Neteyam, I have to find him.

But first, I have to find Jake and Neytiri. I ran in the forest, I didn't dare to look back, but I knew that I would get scolded later.

I made it to the home tree, everyone looked at me strangely.

"Y/n?" I turned to my left and saw Kiri with Tuk.

"What happened to you?" I smiled.

"Cute butt, by the way." She added, as I was in a hospital gown.

"Hush. Norm has been creating an avatar for me. Where's your father?" Kiri points to Jake, who was polishing guns in the tent.

I quickly started to walk towards him.

"Do you think you have any spare clothes I could borrow?' I asked, I noticed Netyiri glance up as she gives me a beaming smile.

"Norm told you I see." Jake chuckled, as I was in a hospital gown.

"Yea, I got a little too excited. I literally ran out of the lab." Jake laughed.

"Come." Neytiri takes my hand in hers. She drags me over to a corner as she hands me an extra loincloth and a brallette that was made with feathers.

"Have you seen Neteyam?' Neytiri and Jake look at each other.

"I'm back!" Y/n's breath hitched, Neytiri places her hands on her shoulders.

"We caught som-' He paused dropping his hunting bow as Lo'ak started to complain.

"Bro, this animal is heavy. Can you move!" He struggled as Jake decided to get up from his position on the ground and help Lo'ak.

'Hi." Y/n was the first to break the silence.

"Can we have a moment alone, please?" I could hear the annoyance in his voice.

Everyone quickly left the tent as it was just Y/n and Neteyam.

"What the hell is this?' He pointed at me, as I was no longer in my human body.

"I just found out about this last night." Y/n continued to look down.

"Look at me." Neteyam spoke softly.

She complied.

"We could be together now, Neteyam." She smiled softly, Neteyam placed his hand on her cheek.

The two both had tears falling down their face.

"But then you'd have to transfer your human body into-" She nods her head.

"We could be mates. I was already training to be a Tsahik, I could be your Tsahik now Neteyam." Neteyam places his forehead against hers.

They could finally have their first kiss, they could finally have their happily ever after.

[indouloureux]

Hi!! I hope you are well!! I absolutely LOVED honey baby! I was wondering if you are taking requests? If possible could you right something about Joseph and the reader going to a Fleetwood Mac concert? (I saw the clip of him at a Paul McCartney show and can’t get this idea out of my head) if this isn’t your type to write then I understand completely! Thank you!!!! 

i had to listen to fleetwood mac for a while to get the vibes going so i hope this pleases you! tysm for reading honey baby ily 🫶

at first you were hesitant to ride on top of him, afraid of falling and hitting your head and possibly his. but here you were — legs on either side of his shoulders, the back of his head on your crotch, hand holding his hair securely and the other holding the hand that's on your knee to keep you in place.

he's singing along with the crowd, voice almost unheard from how many people there are. everywhere by fleetwood mac has him singing like it's the end of the world — or like he's eddie munson in corroded coffin except their genre isn't metal.

"can you hear me calling out your name?" joseph pats his hands on your knees, index finger twirled around yours. your left hand leaves his hair, patting down the curls you pulled and instead massage with them to ease the anxiety he got earlier that you think is still there. "you know that I'm falling and I don't know what to say,"

he turns his head to look at you, back of his head now pressing on your thigh. joseph grips you tighter this time, smiling up at you with one eye closed from the blaring sun. " 'y alright, love?"

"yeah," you shout back. "just keep looking forward. i don't want to fall."

"oh i, i wanna be with you everywhere," he sings with you, the smile never leaving his graceful face. you try to bend down and kiss his lips, but you end up kissing the top of his head instead. joseph blushes at the display of affection, and returns it with a sly kiss on your knee.

"do you wanna go down now?" he's literally struggling to see, and his neck must ache. you nod, because you don't want to make his back hurt, and mostly because you can't get the thought of you falling to the ground out of your head.

joseph crouches, very carefully, until your feet can touch the ground. you hop off his shoulders and laugh at the way he groans as he stretches the weight off his back. you massage it, hand going up and down as you appear beside him.

"hurt?" you say in his ear amidst the roaring crowd. joseph nods, but he's not blaming you. "sorry,"

"'s alright," he chuckles. "here,"

he bends down to pluck a capri-sun off the bag. he takes the plastic off the straw and pushes it inside the hole and gives it to you. and when you take it, joseph wraps and arm around your shoulders even though his still ache, and he kisses your forehead even though he's not much for pda.

"c'mon baby we better make a start," he leans his head sideways, sings it with eyebrows scrunched and raised and lips slightly pouting like he's asking for a kiss. but he doesn't kiss you, instead tucks the strand of hair behind your ear with the hand on your shoulder. "you better make it soon before you break my heart,"

"ah!" you wince slightly. somehow the crowd's gotten louder to the point they might have been louder than the speakers. you try to cover your ears, even with the capri-sun pressing against one of them. joseph gently removes your hands away and replaces it with his own, his back against the stage.

his face etches with worry, creases over his forehead and an upset frown on his face. "i got you," he yells. you smile at him, feeling proud of yourself when he rids of the frown and smiles back.

as a thanks, you offer him your capri-sun, facing the straw against his lips. he opens them and takes the plastic inside his mouth, sucking his cheeks in for a bit to take the juice down his throat. "good?" he nods, mouthing the words thank you.

you place your hands on his wrists, and he takes this as a sign to kiss you. a bold move in a crowd where half of them knew who he was. it's soft, chaste, swapping the taste of orange juice between your pink lips.

joseph breaks away, but never removing the hands off your ears as you faintly hear him sing with the crowd once more. "I want to be with you everywhere,"

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[delopsia]

Mornings Like These | Rhett x Bob x Reader

Word Count: 800 Warnings & Notes: None :)

It's laughter that wakes you.

Bouncing off the hallway's walls, bumbling through the partially cracked bedroom door, and dancing around your ear like sugar plum fairies. With it, it carries the unmistakable scent of bacon and freshly brewed coffee, settling heavily on your nose until your eyes flutter open and you sleepily acknowledge its presence.

Sunlight peeks through the part in the curtains, illuminating the dark room with little white stripes. There's a little mug of coffee sitting on the bedside table, no longer steaming, but it's warm in your hands. The mug comes from a matching set of three, something Bob picked up on one of his deployments; handmade and in your favorite color. All you need is one sip to know that it's Rhett who's made your coffee for you; he's the only person in this house that can get the ratios right.

Your sleep-clouded brain tells you to stay in bed for a little while longer, but curiosity killed the cat, and you really want to know what they're laughing so loudly about. The closer your tired feet carry you to the kitchen, the louder it gets, and it sounds like the table scooted across the floor just now.

There they are; Rhett's got one hand on Bob's lithe waist, the other holding his hand as he clumsily twirls the pilot around the kitchen. Bob's cheeks are bright red from laughter, glasses forgotten on the counter as Rhett spins him around, over and over. 

Mornings like these are rare. Mornings when Bob has the day off from work, Rhett isn't aiding in an overnight catastrophe at the ranch, and both have the energy to get out of bed early and start breakfast together. 

And it makes it all the sweeter when you get to walk in on them doing things like this. 

"Baby!" Bob whines between his giggles, "tell your boyfriend to quit making me dance!"

Rhett mumbles something through his shit-eating grin that you can't quite make out, but Bob's reaching for you; you've got just enough time to set your mug down before fingers are dancing up your side and drawing you into the mix. 

"Good morning," somehow, Rhett's gotten ahold of your hand, spinning you and Bob in a clumsy, all-too-close circle that has your shoulders smacking together. 

It's Bob's hands who find yours next, stealing you out from under Rhett before you've even processed your first spin. Gracefully raises your hand above your head and twirls you around like it's the easiest thing either of you has ever done. 

At least, it's graceful until Bob steps too far to the left and smacks his hip on the corner of the kitchen table, jostling it even further from its original placement. 

"Ow!" He yelps, jumping away as if burned. 

"And you say I'm the bad dancer," despite his teasing, Rhett is leaning down to kiss Bob's temple, then tilts his head to kiss the tip of your nose, "good morning, darlin'."

The coffee pot gurgles with its own good morning tune, summoning both of their attentions back to their former tasks. There's bacon and hashbrowns sizzling quietly on the stovetop, just shy of being cooked through but still a touch raw. Freshly beaten eggs sit in a bowl just off to the side, waiting to be poured onto a clean skillet.

"Why the fuck do you drink it black," Rhett pesters, reaching across the stove to turn off a burner. 

The only task he can be trusted with when it comes to the oven. Or any cooking device that can start a fire, for that matter.

Carefully sipping his freshly brewed coffee, Bob peers over the rim of his mug, "because you're causing a creamer shortage." 

Rhett scoffs at that, but he has no comeback to offer up. It's still fun to think about just how different their drinks are, compared to what you initially expected them to be. You're still not sure how it is that Bob is the one that drinks his coffee black. Yet your cowboy will not touch the stuff unless it has been thoroughly drowned in creamer and sugar.

The bacon is starting to get too hot, grease popping up out of the pan in tiny, explosive little droplets that threaten to land on any exposed skin. 

Rhett holds his hands up in defense, "it wasn't me; all I did was turn off the hashbrowns." 

And yet, when you step forward to turn the burner down, Bob bats you away with a towel, "both of you, out of my kitchen," he fusses, but despite the agency in his tone, he still finds the time to lean down and steal a kiss from your lips, "you're walking fire hazards."

Rhett whines, falling into his respective chair at the table and making grabby hands for you to settle into his lap, "man, we only caused a grease fire once."

And that statement alone is enough to make Bob stop what he's doing and turn to the both of you. "Once?"