#in what part of the song does it require him to do that in the 1st gif

[jeonghan-yoons]

jeonghan : f*ck my life fanchant guide

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 3)

A/N: i know it took me way longer than it should have, but at last im here with the next part and that's what matters, right? thank you for the support on the prev parts, hope you'll enjoy this just as much!

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Meetings never really excited Harry, but lately, they have been his favorite along with studio sessions. Because these were the times he always got to see Y/N. 

Today he is going in with her favorite cookies in his bag that he picked up on his way, taking a detour just to drop by that one place she loves the most. It’s been a recurring thing for Harry, picking up a cup of coffee for her, buying her favorite snacks for their sessions or surprising her with lunch from that taco place she adores so much. He’s been doing practically anything to get a smile on her face because he feels like that’s the only thing he is destined to do. 

He’s been ignoring the fact that her time working on the project ends in two weeks, according to the contract. The only chance to stretch it longer if the required songs are not finished, but they are all practically done at this point. Harry tries his best not to think of what it will be like when he doesn’t get to see her as often as he does now. 

The meeting was scheduled only yesterday, so Harry has no idea what it is about, but it doesn’t really matter, they are supposed to record afterwards, so he only cares about spending more time with Y/N. 

However, the smile fades when he walks into the room and doesn’t see her. It’s odd, she is usually there before him, but now it’s just a couple of the studio engineers, Niall, Liam and Blake, the kind of weird manager from Modest who’s been working with them since they started recording for Midnight Memories. Harry has been getting these eerie vibes from him, but he just can’t put his finger on it, so he’s been sucking it up and ignoring it. He gave no reason not to be trusted so far. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Harry greets everyone walking into the room. 

“Ah, Harry! You’re here!” Blake smiles and they shake hands before Harry settles in a chair. “I was just telling the boys what this meeting is about. Good news, you are set for another album after Midnight Memories is released!”

It’s no surprise, to be honest. One album after the other, the pace has been just like that for a while. 

“Great,” he nods. “Do we know who we’re gonna work with?”

Blake then hands him a paper with a list of names and some other details. Harry runs over the names, looking for a particular one, but it’s not there.

“What about Y/N?” he asks.

“Ah, I wanted to tell you guys. She got another project kind of last minute, so she is done with the album for now and won’t be able to join for the next one, it seems like,” Blake explains casually and it doesn’t stand out to anyone else either, but it hits Harry in the chest pretty hard.

She is done with the album? Why didn’t she say anything? They talked on the phone just two days ago, why didn’t she even mention it?

And why isn’t she gonna work on the next album? Harry doubts she is booked that far ahead, she is just getting recognized in the industry and she told him herself she is living from one project to the other, works on the next album won’t start at least until they start touring Midnight Memories.

It’s not adding up, but on the other hand… Harry has no right to question her. Even despite how close he’s been getting to her, they are still just… coworkers. Friends. 

But nothing more. 

“Alright, now that we are talking about the next album, I have a little sneak peek of a song that could be a big hit!” Blake seems enthusiastic as he opens his laptop and then soon a demo starts playing, but Harry can’t really focus, he is too stuck on the fact that he has no more time left with Y/N. He even pulls out his phone, ready to text her and ask her how all of this happened, but then talks himself down. When he finally starts to listen to the song, it sounds familiar at first, but there are no lyrics and Harry often finds random songs familiar lately, because he just hears so many new melodies on a daily basis, they tend to blend together. 

“You like it?” Blake asks him and Harry just nods.

“Yeah. What is it called?”

Blake smiles confidently as he shuts the laptop down.

“Night Changes.”

The weather is finally good enough for grilling and the rowland household would take an opportunity anytime for that. Filling up their backyard with the people they love the most and feeding them burgers, hotdogs or basically anything Mitch is able to throw onto the grill. They usually have a gathering like this every month if their schedule and the weather allows. 

Now it’s finally the first official grill party of the year. 

Harry is sat outside by one of the tables, his plate is empty by now, but he knows he’ll get another round at one point. Cards are scattered on the tabletop, along with glasses of lemonade and beer, the kids are playing in the back somewhere by the treehouse, everything feels and looks idyllic.

For the past about two hours Harry couldn’t stop looking for Y/N. Stealing glances when she was talking to Sarah or playing with the kids, trying not to ogle her too obviously when she was laughing at something at the other table. He wanted to walk up to her a thousand times already, but he is trying to act cool and figure out how to act when there are other people around. 

It’s an unknown territory for sure. 

When Harry sees her walking towards the house he just can’t stay put. Excusing himself from the group he tries his best not to look suspicious as he follows her inside. Once the sliding door is closed behind him he quickens his steps down the hallway towards the bathroom, guessing she went there, but as he is approaching the door he notices it’s closed.

Should he try his luck and open it? Or maybe knock? Or…

Suddenly, the lock rattles and the door moves the tiniest bit, light coming through the gap. His heart skips a beat as he leaps forward and pushes the door open more so he can step inside.

And there she is, standing by the sink, checking herself out in the mirror when Harry walks in and closes the door behind him. Then slowly, she turns her gaze to him, for the first time today and for a moment Harry thinks she might tell him to fuck off and get out, but when he sees her lips part, he knows what she wants.

Him.

They collide fast, their usual hunger for each other taking over in a heartbeat. Demanding kisses, rough touches, they both know they should be in a hurry, Harry can’t even remember if he locked the door, it would be rather awkward if someone walked in on them.

Especially because no one knows about them, or whatever is going on between them. 

It’s been over a week since the dinner party that ended up with the most confusing but also mind-blowingly amazing sex they have ever had. When it was over Harry simply left and kept to what she said, that they would not talk about it and that’s exactly what happened. They never talked about it, but it happened again. 

Twice since then. 

And now they are going at it again. 

“Fuck,” Harry growls into her mouth when she reaches into his pants with quick but confident moves, because it’s not the first time she is doing it and he can only hope it’s not the last either. 

“Quickly,” she pants and he just nods, bunching up her dress and tugging her underwear down. It’s no surprise he is already hard, following her inside was like a foreplay to him, the secrecy, the chance that she might tell him to fuck off, his pulse has been rising before he stepped into the bathroom. 

They moan together when he thrusts into her, but then he gets back to kissing her to keep their voice down as he starts moving. Usually, they don’t talk when they are having sex, but Harry feels like changing that up, trying out how she reacts to something different. 

“You knew I would come after you, huh?” he pants against her lips.

“I did,” she breathes out, one arm curled around his neck, her other hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep her balance. 

“You thought about me fucking you all day?”

To that, she doesn’t answer and Harry almost regrets opening his mouth, but then she looks at him and nods.

“I did,” she repeats herself and even cracks a smile before pulling him closer to kiss him hard. And just like that, a tightening but warm feeling spreads in his chest. 

They don’t need much time, Harry is the first to come and she follows soon right after. Her head falls against his chest , rising and falling with his deep breaths and he tries to fight the urge, but then gives in and bringing up a hand he runs his fingers through her hair. Part of him fears this move might be too intimate for her and that she’ll shake him off of her any moment, but it never happens and Harry enjoys it, probably way more than he should. 

They clean themselves up and soon it’s just the sparkle in their eyes that proves what they just did. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks, fixing her makeup in the mirror. 

“Are you asking me out or something?” Harry cheekily asks and she just smacks his chest playfully.

“I have some stuff I’ve been working on that I want to show you.”

Harry’s pulse fastens again. This is just like it was before, when it was just the two of them, sharing the songs they were working on. 

“I would love that,” he smiles at her, watching her walk to the door. 

“Alright. I’ll text you then.”

Y/N walks out and Harry knows they are back to not talking and for a second he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep going like this. 

When he walks out he is still deep in his thoughts, but then when he reaches the kitchen he comes to a halt, seeing Mitch by the kitchen island, sipping on some lemonade, a knowing look on his face.

“Hey man,” Harry clears his throat and joins him instead of walking outside.

“Hey. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Want to share why I just saw Y/N coming from the same direction as you just did?”

“Uh… you know, we just…”

Harry can’t quite find the right words, especially because he doesn’t like and can’t really lie to Mitch, but he also wants to keep the no talking rule. Mitch stares back at him with a blank face for a second, but then his eyes go wide.

“No way.”

“What?” Harry laughs.

“For real?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and… you and Y/N?”

Harry doesn’t answer, but that’s quite the answer to Mitch.

“Oh my God, how long has this been going on?”

“Keep it down!” He hushes his friend. “It’s… it’s nothing official or anything.”

“But it is something, right? What is it?”

Harry once again just stays silent.

“You two are having sex?” More silence. “Oh my God! Did you just do it in the bathroom?!”

“Shh!” Harry tries to shush him again, but he also can’t hold back his smile, thinking about what just took place in that bathroom. 

“Harry, what the hell! When… How did that happen? You know what? I don’t want to know about that,” Mitch changes his mind quickly, making Harry laugh. “But like… what is it?”

“I told you, it’s nothing o–”

“No, I mean… what do you want it to be?”

Harry sighs as he turns so he can look out at the backyard through the sliding door. And there she is, with a glass in her hand as she is talking to Sarah, laughing at something and Harry wishes he knew what it was. 

“I just… I like her. A lot.”

“But you two had been hating each other passionately, what happened to that?”

“I think we took the passionately part and turned it into something else,” Harry smirks cheekily, his eyes still glued to her figure outside. 

“Oh my God, you are so gone for her,” Mitch breathes out, shaking his head. “You’re falling for her!”

Harry turns back to Mitch and hesitates before speaking up.

“I already fell for her. When we worked together years ago. But then she basically disappeared and when we met again, she acted like I was her mortal enemy,” Harry chuckles. Calling himself the enemy sounds ridiculous, but it’s the most fitting he could say. “And now…” he hums, but doesn’t finish his thought out loud.

“And now you’re falling for her again?”

“I might be,” he nods.

The Sun has set, but the party's still going. Well, it’s not raging, some of the people who came with kids have left and Scout has been put down by Mitch as well, but a handful of guests are still out on the terrace, playing card games and sharing stories. 

Y/N sits right across from Harry and he has noticed the change. She is losing her cold act towards him, slowly but surely. They can finally talk and joke around almost like back in the days. Harry however doesn’t want to let himself go deeper than he should, he knows he is on an unstable field with her and he feels like it all could snap any moment, but…

It feels so amazing.

Making her laugh, sharing knowing looks, teasing each other like old friends, Harry missed being like this. 

When he notices that she’s probably cold his first thought is to offer his hoodie, but he is quick to stop himself, he’s sure it might be too much at once so he instead just asks around who needs a blanket as he is heading inside anyway so he can easily grab a few. 

But then as the night comes to an end, he still decides to try and dance around the unsaid boundaries.

“Hey, I just ordered a car, added your address as well.” Harry tells her when he sees her open the Uber app on her phone.

“Ah, no need, I can just–”

“Already ordered it,” he insists, hoping she’ll accept it and luckily, it seems like she is not in the mood to argue. 

The car ride is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. She is on her phone, reading what seems like emails to Harry and he notices the change in her instantly.

“Everything alright?”

She looks up with a frown and then sighs, locking her phone. 

“Just work. I have this annoying assistant, called Daryl up in my ass on another project, he is trying to get me to give way more than I’m obligated to. I don’t even know who his boss is, the damn guy is like a mystery for some reason.”

“Like, they want more music from you?”

“Yes,” she nods. “They want to listen to stuff I’m working on in case something fits the album, but I’ve already delivered what I was paid for.”

Although he is eager to know more, to offer his help, he stays silent, staying within the boundaries this time, not pushing his luck even more. It’s a miracle itself that she even said this much about anything personal. 

“So tomorrow?” Y/N asks when the car stops in front of her house. Harry looks at her and for a moment, all he can think about is the last time they were here like this. 

“Yeah, I’m free,” he manages to speak up, snapping out of his memories.

“I’ll text you. Bye then,” she nods before climbing out of the car and heading towards her front door. Harry watches her for a bit before he tells the driver to leave. 

She still hasn’t texted him. It’s four in the afternoon and he hasn’t heard of her since she got dropped off last night. 

He was up early, went for a run, because he definitely needed to put his extra energy into something instead of continuously checking his phone, hoping for a text to pop up. Then he grabbed himself a bagel on the way back, brewed a coffee when he got home and had his breakfast while staring at his phone like a sore loser. 

He took that damn phone everywhere he went. Literally everywhere. But the hours passed by and he got no sign and at first he just thought she got busy with something, but by the time he was done with lunch, it turned into a worry. 

She was as punctual as one could get and she would have already texted him by now, even if it was just about that she is running late with whatever she was doing. A decent session lasts at least three or four hours and she is not one to pull an allnighter.

He has kept ordering himself to be patient all day, but now he lost the last bits of his bearing. At last he decides a text is fine, she can answer whenever it’s convenient. 

HARRY: Hey, are we still up for a sesh? 

He keeps the conversation open and watches his message sit there, its status staying delivered for what feels like forever. Then, about twenty minutes later, it changes to read and the three dots start dancing at the bottom of the screen as Harry’s heart threatens to jump right out of his chest. He knows he is acting ridiculously, but he pushes the thought to the back of his head for now. 

The dots then disappear, but no message arrives. A minute goes by and they reappear and this time a gray bubble follows.

Y/N: I got a bit of a situation on my hands rn.

Then a photo pops up of her house with two police cars parked at the front and Harry’s stomach drops.

HARRY: I’m going over.

He sends the message before he could even think it through and he is already out the door by the time she reads his reply. 

When he arrives one of the police cars is still there and Y/N is out front, talking to an officer. She is lacking her usual on-spot style, wearing a baggy sweat set, her hair in a state of mess he has never seen before, but even despite the worried expression on her face, she looks annoyingly beautiful. 

She spots him as he gets out of his car, crossing the lawn with a slow jog.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, on the verge of losing his marbles if he doesn’t find out what happened immediately.

“Give me a minute,” she tells him, turning back to the officer. “Thank you for everything. I’ll let you know if I find anything that’s missing.”

“Take care, Miss. We’ll have a car patrol around the neighborhood every hour for the next 24 hours, though it’s unlikely they will come back.”

With a nod, the officer walks over to the car, gets in and they drive away.

“What the hell happened?” Harry asks when Y/N finally turns to him.

“Someone broke into my house,” she says and then just simply heads back inside. Harry jogs after her. 

“What? When?” 

Y/N is walking straight to her kitchen and Harry follows her, locking the front door behind him. 

“I went to a yoga class in the morning. When I came back, I noticed my lock was picked and the door was open.” 

Harry watches her rummage through a cabinet before grabbing a bottle of tequila along with two glasses. She shoots a questioning look to him, to which he just nods, though he is still lost, confused and kind of angry. She pours a generous amount into both glasses and then hands one over to Harry before chugging hers down faster than ever. 

“Did anything go missing?”

“Literally nothing,” she laughs bitterly. “Everything seems untouched and I just don’t understand it at all. Why would someone break in if they don’t take anything valuable?”

“Money? Jewelry? Everything is here?”

“Everything. I checked everything.”

Harry is now just as clueless as Y/N. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s also somehow even worse. Whoever broke in had a reason to, but it’s completely hidden for now. 

When she reaches for the bottle again he notices how much her hands are shaking. She is a nervous wreck. 

“Hey, you don’t want to lose your rationality right now,” Harry softly warns her as he grabs her hand and stops her from pouring another one. 

“I’m fucking terrified, Harry,” she admits, her voice shakes and so weak like never before. Harry’s heart breaks for her. “Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?”

“I have,” Harry answers without hesitation and that’s when she finally looks him in the eyes again. “I had a few stalkers throughout the years and attempted break-ins.”

And just like that, something changes in her. The last bits of the wall she so carefully built up between the two of them are destroyed and she lets him see her fully and so naked emotionally. Her lips tremble, tears dwell in her eyes and just as the first sob breaks out of her chest, he is pulling her into his embrace. 

For a second Harry thinks it might be just luck, that she is only opening up to him like this because he is the one who is physically here with her, but he then wipes this thought and just focuses on being the support she truly needs. 

He holds her tight as she cries into his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head until she calms down and regains control over her breathing. 

“Pack a bag for a few days, stay at mine for a bit, okay?” he softly says when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at him. She doesn’t try to put up a fight, just nods and lets him walk her up to her bedroom. 

He helps her pack, she grabs the clothes while Harry packs her laptop and chargers. Half an hour later they are getting into his car before heading over to Harry’s place. The car ride is silent and Harry doesn’t even try to talk her through it. He knows how important it is to let her find her own peace in this situation instead of trying to just temporarily divert her attention. 

It’s actually her first time at his place, so she is curiously examining the place when they finally arrive. Harry shows her around quickly and then they reach the bedrooms upstairs.

“Choose a bedroom, personally my favorite is that one,” he smiles softly, pointing at the one next to his own bedroom. She walks closer and peeks inside, then into his bedroom and he watches her patiently.

“Can I… sleep with you?”

Her request surprises him, but he would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t hoping for it. 

“Sure, of course,” he nods and gestures for her to walk inside. 

He sets down her bag to the ottoman at the end of his king sized bed while she looks around. Harry grabs a towel for her from the closet and hands it over to her.

“Take a shower, I’ll make tea for you, how does that sound?”

She just nods, holding the towel to her chest and he can’t believe how vulnerable she looks. The Y/N he’s known for the past few months is nothing like the woman standing in front of him right now. 

“Alright, then I’ll…” 

He clears his throat and then turns around to give her privacy, but he doesn’t even get to take a step before she grabs his hand and pulls him back. He opens his mouth to ask what else she needs, but he is met with her lips pressing against his, hard and needy and he wastes no time to return the kiss just as passionately. His arms curl around her tightly, like an armor, ready to protect her from anything and everything. 

They stumble into the bathroom and she pulls away, just enough so that she can start stripping out of her clothes, but Harry stops for a minute before things get too heated too fast.

“Wait, are you… Today was a lot, are you sure you… want to…?”

“I’m sure. I need this,” she nods and even though she appears just as vulnerable as before, there’s some kind of strong will mixed in her state now. Harry stares back at her, looking for any kind of sign that this might be a bad idea, but then she adds: “I need you.”

And Harry knows in that moment that he would give her anything in this world, because he fell for her again, but this time, it’s nothing like he has ever felt before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[steddielations]

Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:

Part 1 | Character List

- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.

- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.

- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.

- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.

- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.

- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.

- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell

- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it

- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past

- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.

- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.

- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him

- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.

- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.

- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.

- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start

- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")

- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money

- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it

- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)

- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"

- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.

- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)

- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.

- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.

- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."

[rafescurtainbangz]

Proactive Type of Person - Rafe Cameron Two Shot - Part 1 of 2

Perv/Frat!Rafe x Female!Reader

+18 Minor DNI

Spoilers in the Warning: swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral (if I missed tags I'm sorry)

Edited lightly (sorry I've been in my head about my writing lately so she's kinda rough tbh)

3.8k

Part 1 will be from Rafe's POV Part 2 will be from the Female Reader’s

Rafe's POV:

Part 1

“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze. 

Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.” 

I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.” 

“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”

“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”

“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own. 

“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.

“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt. 

“I agree.” 

“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She's not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it? 

She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.

“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets. 

Who’s that?

Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again. 

“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips. 

Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.

Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that. 

My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can't wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I'm gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I'm torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She's a Phi Mu girl.”

“No shit?”

“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she's mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words. 

“All semester, and you haven't made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done. 

“Long game,” he defends himself. 

“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”

“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn't even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don't even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I'm gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.” 

Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less. 

“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I'm not fuckin’ around. She's mine.” 

My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I'm bigger. He can fight, but he's not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn't care less. And he knows it. 

He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch. 

“Mine.”

++++++++

I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display. 

I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock. 

Where are you going, pretty girl?

She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.

She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me. 

I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill. 

I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that. 

“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm. 

“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile. 

“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”

“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.

“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-” 

“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor. 

My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh. 

“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.  

“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.

“Thank you. Oh, umm, you're a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo. 

“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”

“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”

“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.

“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”

I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat's money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”

“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect. 

“I try… But, if we get busted, I'll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.” 

She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook. 

Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl's eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.

“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”

“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.

“No problem, y/n.”

Gifts... That’s what my girl likes.

Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys. 

I'll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself. 

I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I've never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.

The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”

“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.

I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips. 

He’s fucking dead. 

++++++++

I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her. 

My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits. 

She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath. 

Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.

Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state. 

“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. 

I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body. 

She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy... 

Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight. 

“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.

I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand. 

‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”

‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum. 

I'll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.

My perfect cumslut.

I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I'll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.

No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway. 

My dirty little whore. 

I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all. 

She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?” 

She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again. 

“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile. 

“Just got done with a workout?” She asks. 

“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet. 

“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200. 

“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again. 

“Positive,” I assure. 

“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.

I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.

“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I'll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.

Baby girl…

Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don't think I can take this. 

“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod. 

“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”

I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.

Next stop, Phi Mu.

A/N: Writing Part 2 Soon :)

Tags: @voyeurmunson@babygorewhore@beautifuldisaster88@gri959@rafedrewandjjs@redhead1180@xo-billy-hargrove-ox@romaescapes@cutielando@imbabycowboy@wearemadeofstardust0@drewstarkeyslut@babyraven@juniebugg@humanvampire13@akashababy@dckweed@ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27@marahgubler@joannamuns9n@h34rtsformilli@jayla@randymeeksistheloml@waywarsoul113

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[gojoidyll]

Teaching Aventurine how to dance... 😫👀

Love this so much anon!! 😫😫 cause like

ahhh, just imagine teaching aventurine how to dance, it's making me giggle and kick my feet. Like, I can imagine him being somewhat shy at first because it's you and he likes you (but doesn't want to admit it) but then gradually becomes confident and taking a hold on the situation once he has the steps down (mainly because he doesn't want you to notice how easily you are able to fluster him without even trying) 😳👀

Imagine that Aventurine must attend a banquet of some sort for the IPC but it requires him to dance with a few refined ladies that will be attending.

"Now place your hand on my waist like this."

Which was how he found himself holding you against himself. The palm of his hand gently cradling your own hand. While his other hand fell to your waist and your free hand finding purchase onto his shoulder.

"Since you'll be the one leading, you'll want to move your feet like this. Remember not to go too fast or you'll be dragging your partner around like a ragdoll. But don't go too slow either or your partner will end up stepping on your toes."

He could feel the heat radiate off of you as you gave him gentle instruction on how to move across the floor to the beats and tones of the music playing.

"Do you know the steps now?"

Aventurine nodded. He couldn't trust his words right now. Not with the way you were pressed against him.

"Want to try leading?"

Another nod.

You found it unusual at how silent he was being. No quips or remarks. Just pure focus. When he originally asked you to teach him how to dance, you thought he was joking. Though, as he held you close and moved you slowly throughout the song that was playing, you were glad that it wasn't a joke and that he was taking this seriously.

"You're doing so well!"

He couldn't stop the blush that started to form on his cheeks. He knew he had to do something quick or you would start to notice his bluff of concentration, "well, it helps that I have such a wonderful instructor," he said with ease as he dipped you. His hand moving to your lower back as he held you.

You were surprised that he did such a move, but impressed nonetheless when he went to pull you back up with such ease and within tune of the song no less!

And to be completely honest, even though you were teaching him how to dance, you were glad that his first dance was with you even if that does sound selfish on your part. (Little did you know, however, he felt the same.)

"That reminds me, my dear instructor?"

He made a sudden movement, his arm moving to encircle your lower back and pull you tight against him. Your noses were barely grazing each other, your breaths mixing together.

"The invitation to the banquet says I can bring a plus one, so how about it instructor, care to join me?"

"But what of all those rich young ladies waiting to dance with the ever so handsome, blonde gambler," you said ever the dramatic, your lips forming a little grin as you did so.

He chuckled lightly, "now that I know how to properly dance - I believe I want my lovely instructor to be my one and only dance partner."

Aventurine was glad he was able to calm his beating heart and actually conquer the furious blush that coated his cheeks. Because you may be the one teaching him how to dance, but he plans to be the lead from here on out.

Besides, it frustrates him how you are able to fluster him so easily without even trying. Just once he wants to see you become a stuttering mess and not the other way around. (And who knows, maybe he can get a few more dance lessons while he was at it too.)

[aphrodijin]

swing life away | min yoongi

pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader

synopsis: it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

rating: 18+

word count: 5.2k

tags/content warning: married au, pregnancy, slight angst, miscommunication, mentions of infidelity (no one's cheating), mentions of food and being vegan (no one's vegan), usage of babe/baby as endearment, semi-public sex, SMUT in the forms of oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this unless you want kids or std), slight spanking, yoongi being a carpenter/loving husband/dumpling/etc.

this fic is inspired by the song "swing life away" by rise against and yoongi's woodcarving vlog :] enjoy!

Min Yoongi was many things.

He’s a skilled carpenter with his own woodshop business by day, and a rising songwriter/record producer by night. He’s a confident all-star basketball player back in his high school days and can still shoot perfectly whenever he plays with some of your shared friends in the backyard these days. He’s a great cook too, always indulging your cravings.

Min Yoongi was many things but most importantly, he’s your husband.

And a very observant one.

It’s been more than a month when he first noticed it. He wasn’t exactly sure what was “it,” but he knew it wasn’t good. He could tell there was something bothering in your mind one night you went home from work and claimed it’s nothing instead of ranting to him like the usual. Just a bad day at work.

A week after that was when you started to stay long hours at work, looking more pale and exhausted when you get home. It baffled Yoongi why you would spend more hours there if it’s stressing you and you’ve never actually worked overtime, but he knew he’s not one to talk about spending more time at work when he has two jobs and does one of those said jobs at home, so he shut his mouth. He didn’t say anything.

Not when you changed your perfume from an intoxicating fruity scent to a soft floral one. Not when he saw a receipt of you having your car interior cleaned and also changed the smell of it. Not when you didn’t want to have sex anymore, always pushing his hands away when they start to wander down there.

A lot of new small things bothered him, especially the last one but what made him almost lose it was when you had mistaken his dish, the one you claimed to be your favorite, for a different one.

x◇x◇x

“Do you like it?”

You nodded, despite still blowing the steam off of your spoon. When you finally tasted it though, he could tell on the look on your face that there’s something missing on his dish. “What is it? Did I not put enough fish sauce or tomato sauce?”

“You put fish sauce in this?” You asked, smiling adorably at your husband and reached across the table to hold his hand in assurance. “It tastes fine, babe, but there’s no need for fish sauce in this. You could’ve added more liver spread and cheese though. You know I love a lot of cheese in this.”

Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment to breathe. He understood the cheese part, you always add cheese to a lot of dishes that doesn’t even need cheese. “Y/N, I didn’t put liver spread because that dish doesn’t require liver spread. It needed fish sauce.”

“What are you talking about? Caldereta is all about the tender beef, tomato sauce, liver spread, and cheese!”

“That's afritada, Y/N. You’re favorite dish back home is afritada.”

Yoongi blinked and composed himself, trying not to look so wounded. He’s so damn sure you’re favorite was afritada, you’ve talked about it a lot. Hell, he’d already cooked it a couple of times before. He had the recipe that he searched online bookmarked on his browser, and he even went to the lengths of jotting them down on his journal just in case the link is taken down.

“Afritada… you mean this is chicken?” You scooped for some meat parts from the reddish soup dish, and there it was, your recent enemy: chicken. “I can’t eat chicken right now, Yoongi, I'm sorry.” You sat straight up, covering your mouth and nose with your hand.

“Of course, it’s chicken. It’s always been chicken, Y/N. It’s a chicken dish, that’s why you love it so much. Or loved, apparently, judging by your actions tonight.”

“I'm sorry,” your voice came out muffled as your hand was still covering your mouth.

“When did you start hating chicken?” he asked as he stood up to take your plate away and check the pantry to prepare something else for you.

“Um, my coworker, Seokhoon, he’s practicing to be a vegan lately so we thought we’d support him by also not eating meat…”

Yoongi’s ears perked up, hearing how your answer sounded uncertain and more like a question, so he pressed more, looking over his shoulder at you. “You were more than ready and excited to eat beef and cheese earlier but you wouldn’t eat chicken right now?”

You stared dumbfoundingly at him before shrugging. “I’m trying with small things like egg and chicken.”

“I made you an omelet for breakfast earlier.” He pointed out, holding your gaze.

“I… just started… to try being vegan earlier at lunch. And also meat are becoming pricey these days, our salary might not be enough. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to cut back on our expenses. What would you rather give up—chicken or beef?”

Of course, Yoongi would rather eat tofu and bean sprouts for the rest of his life if it meant you get to eat properly and satisfy your cravings. But he didn’t bother to reply that as he cooked you a different dish that night. Fuck Seokhoon for influencing you to be vegan. Fuck the government for the rising prices and not handling the economy better.

x◇x◇x

Ever since that dinner night, Yoongi began to question your marriage. He wanted to talk to you because he didn’t know what to make of your actions anymore, but everytime you two were in the room together, he could you tell you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get out of the situation. Besides, he’s afraid to ask because he knows he’s not prepared for any possible answers you'll give him.

You cheated? Yoongi knew it’s impossible. It had to be because he wouldn’t know what to do with that with that revelation. That would honestly break him.

You lost your job and was just actually driving around town to look for a new one and pass the time? It sounded stupid but not impossible. He would be disappointed and wish that you had told him sooner to prepare and possibly take on a third job.

You’re pregnant? He supposed this is a realistic scenario. You two had talked about this sincerely before getting married, of course, both wanting two kids. He just feels like it’s still early for babies and you two haven’t done all your goals as a married couple before becoming parents.

So he told himself to wait, that you would open up to him when you’re finally ready to unburden your problems. He’s a patient man after all.

But his patience seemed to be running thin today on the morning of your anniversary when he rolled over to your side as he woke up to cuddle you closer and hopefully start the day buried inside you.

He knew you’re awake, even with your eyes closed. You've been waking up earlier than him lately, one of your many changing habits. He took your hand that was hugging your stomach and pressed a soft kiss on your fingers, on your palm, on your wrist, trailing them across your arm up to your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name, wishing for you to open your eyes when he nipped at your jaw. He called your name once again as his lips were ghosting over yours. Your eyelashes fluttered open just enough to look at him and when he finally saw your eyes, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

You freed your hand from his to curl your fingers up into his long hair, urging him closer while the other slid up beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his body that you’ve been missing for weeks now. You pulled your knees up as Yoongi settled himself in between your legs, grinding his hard cock against your core.

But just as his own hand started to drift down on your hips, you slowed down, giving his lips one last kiss before pressing your forehead to his. You both stayed there without any movements at all, just gasping for air and holding each other’s skin and flesh tightly every now and then.

When it sounded like you were about to apologize, he pressed a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Happy anniversary, baby,” before bolting right out of the bed, before you could even say it back to him.

x◇x◇x

Despite your husband having his own woodshop and fulfilling his dreams in the music industry, you didn’t let go of your job when you and Yoongi got married.

You were on your way back to your desk from your third visit to the bathroom that morning when you saw the delivery man on the front door of the store carrying a gigantic bouquet of flowers he almost disappeared behind it.

“Min Y/N?” he asked, looking around the store.

Jia turned to the direction of the bathroom and pointed at you when she saw you. You stayed your feet at your place. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. The flowers looked beautiful—a bouquet of pale and dark red carnations, along with sunflowers, wrapped meticulously in craft paper and tied with a golden ribbon—but there’s a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making it hard for you to appreciate this.

“This is for you!” The delivery man presented the bouquet to you with a proud smile. When you didn’t move, he gingerly took your arms to place the flowers in them and then took off.

A minute must have passed by yet none of you and your colleagues moved or talked. It wasn’t until a client came in and needed assistance. Jia wrapped her arm around you and walked you back to your desk. As you sat down, you caught sight of the red card sticking out of the flowers. HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY, BABY.

Reading Yoongi's handwritten note, you recognized that bad feeling again that you knew all too well lately. Shame and guilt. You had to close your eyes and practice your breathing exercises before those bad feelings in your stomach turn into a pile of chunky vomit across the floor.

Jia, oblivious to your anxiety, swooned over the flowers. “Happy anniversary, Y/N!”

It’s the second greeting you’ve received today and you couldn’t help but wince when you remember how you froze when Yoongi greeted you.

You didn’t know how this special event slipped up your mind when staring at your calendar was all you’ve been doing lately. You were aware that your own anniversary was near and you even had a lot of ideas for DIY gifts to give to your husband.

You tried to make it up to Yoongi by going after him and showering together to have some hot shower sex even though the thought of sex was making you nervous lately. Yoongi turned down the offer though, saying you’re both gonna be late for work, which was a very pathetic excuse considering he’s his own boss and your own work doesn’t start in a couple of hours. So you showered together in silence.

Just as you’re about to calm down, you’re eyes widened in panic because not only you forgot your own anniversary day, of course you also forgot to actually make a gift despite tons of ideas in your journal and Pinterest board.

“Jia, I didn’t get him a gift!” It wasn’t even noon yet, and you’re already close to breaking down for the third time today.

“Well, the department store is just around the corner. I can come with you at lunch to buy something last minute.”

You shook your head and explained to her that buying some expensive stuff isn’t enough. Knowing your husband, he already made you a gift days ago. You’re not sure if it’s something from his woodshop or if he composed you a song, all you know is Yoongi probably made you a gift with love. No amount of money could compare to that.

“Well, there’s always sex?” At the sight of your face crumpling once again, Jia took back her suggestion. “Or not! Honestly, Y/N, this is why I’m all single and alone in life so I don’t have to give people gifts and you’re making me stress about your own anniversary gift.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“And really, you’re worrying about gifts when…” she paused to look down at your belly. “Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head.

“Well, there’s your anniversary gift, congratulations!”

“This is a stupid gift." Despite your harsh words, you wrapped arm protectively around your middle.

“Why? You said you want to give him something you made, well you made that. He even helped, too!”

You couldn’t possibly just announce you’re pregnant on your anniversary day? Right? Sure, it’s convenient and practical – two celebrations in one night!

But that’s not the actual thing that’s been bothering you. You’ve been hiding your condition to your husband for weeks now, when you should have told him that he’s a gonna be a dad the moment you saw the plus sign on a stick. But you didn’t because you’re scared and if you’re gonna be honest, also selfish. Selfish to have Yoongi the Husband™️ all to yourself just for a couple more days before he turns into Yoongi, your husband and the father of your unborn fetus. And then that selfishness turns into guilt for not telling him, for distancing yourself.

A part of you wished he’ll figure it out on his own, that’ll save you a speech.

x◇x◇x

Even before you started to spent late hours at work, Yoongi always comes home an hour or so before you. It usually gives him enough time to prepare for dinner.

However today, he asked his friend Seokjin to prepare a romantic dinner for you two as he would busy himself installing the porch swing he made as his anniversary gift for you.

With his long hair tied in a half bun, a few strands tucked behind his ears and locked into place with pins, and a safety googles on his face, Yoongi began by drilling two holes up into the ceiling joists where he would screw the hooks. When he’s done and swept away the dust, he took the chains that’s wrapped in rope for extra support and aesthetic purposes and attached them to swing before hoisting them up to the hooks.

Despite wanting his gift to be all handmade, Yoongi had no choice but to buy a small foam mattress and throw pillows to decorate the swing. He placed them all nicely and removed his googles before sitting down and testing the swing if it runs smoothly.

Swinging for a couple of minutes gave Yoongi enough time to relax from the stress of his jobs, from setting this swing up, from all his fears and worries.

It gave him enough peace from all the doubts and questions inside his head. He hoped that this would give you the same. He hoped that you seeing this swing – the one you dreamed for so long, the one that he promised you because how could he ever say no – will help you remember that the fact that you two get to celebrate this day was because of your love for each other and the trust you’ve built all these years even before marrying.

Yoongi had set up the swing in the right side of the house, facing a line of tall trees that secludes this house from the main road, and close enough to the backyard for some peace and privacy that if anyone walks or drives in to your lot, they wouldn’t see you right away as the beams would hinder their sight. But anyone who’s sitting here would see just fine if there’s someone coming in.

Just like Yoongi saw your car rolled in right away to park next to his pickup truck. He stood up and waved his arm to call your attention, excited to show you his gift. When you didn’t see him, he jogged up to the front and flashed a smile when you jumped up in surprise at the sight of him.

“What are you doing outside?”

“I have to show you something, come on!” He went to cover your eyes for surprise and guided you to the back.

You were expecting some surprise in the backyard, probably a dinner he cooked but your assumptions came into a halt as Yoongi stopped only after taking a few steps. When he removed his hands and told you to open your eyes, a cozy porch swing greeted your sight.

“That’s…” you trailed off, walking closer and wrapping your hand around the chain-rope. From the bulky design of the chain and rope to the uneven height of the wooden slabs of the back support, Yoongi made you the exact wooden swing that you drunkenly drew a long time ago when you two just started dating.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You heard Yoongi say behind you, and you wish he had said it the way he greeted you this morning – with such coldness and hurt. You felt like you didn’t deserve this with the way you’ve been treating him this past month.

Not wanting to hurt him any longer and bring back normalcy in your relationship, you turned to look at him, your eyes teary and said, “I… I'm sorry, babe.”

“Why? What is it?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and wondered which should you say first: you didn’t get him any gift, or you’re pregnant. You figured you should go with the bad news first before softening the mood with the good news, you’re just not sure which is which. “I didn’t get you any gift. I actually forgot it’s our anniversary today, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi fell silent before chuckling nervously. Sure, forgetting your own anniversary was bad, but that’s little compared to what Yoongi was imagining these past few days. “That’s alright, I thought it was something serious.”

“Why? What did you think I was going to say?” you prodded before you drop your next bomb.

“I don’t know what I thought, honestly. Things haven’t been quite well with us lately, Y/N.” He shrugged, scratching his nape. “I thought of pregnancy. There’s one where you don’t actually have a job anymore and just didn’t want to say it. I also thought you’re cheating with fucking Seokhoon—”

“Seok-Seokhoon? Why the hell would you think that? I couldn’t stand that guy.”

“I don’t know Y/N, you tell me, you’re the one who suddenly didn’t want to eat chicken because fucking Seokhoon is trying to be vegan.”

You thought about the lamb chops Seokhoon devoured at lunch today. You also remembered the night Yoongi was referring to, when you almost spilled your guts literally and figuratively at the smell of the chicken.

“Seokhoon isn’t vegan. But one of your hunches is true.” You walked towards him, taking his hand in yours and placing it on your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Yoongi froze for a minute, staring at your eyes down to your stomach that he’s touching. His gummy smile slowly broke into his face, giggling as he asked to confirm, “Pregnant? With babies?”

You nodded, matching his smile. “Yeah, pregnant, but hopefully just a singular baby. Or fetus, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to a clinic yet. I was putting it off because I want you to be there at the first checkup since I left you in the dark when I took the test. I'm really sorry about that, Yoongi, I just didn’t know how to say it. I was scared and nervous myself about this baby and I kn—”

Yoongi cut off your ramblings by kissing you. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought you were cheating when you were feeling this way all on your own. I should’ve asked you.”

You shook you head. “I'm sorry I let you think that, too. But there’s no way I would’ve betray you for Seokhoon or anyone else, really. I love you so much, Yoongi.”

You stood in your toes to kiss him again, muttering again and again how much you love him and how sorry you were. His hands stayed firmly on each side of you, and you didn’t pushed him away this time. You looped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer.

This one kiss – after all those weeks of just pecking and short kisses, after the frustrating mess that happened earlier morning – was so hungry and powerful and mind-numbing. You wouldn’t even wanna stop if a lightning strike near you two. You missed him so much, you would’ve take him right here, right now.

But Yoongi pulled away, breathing ruggedly as he said, “You haven’t tried it yet.”

“Tried the what yet?”

“The swing, don’t you wanna take a ride on it?”

Despite his innocent question referring to the swing, your eyes mischievously glinted and an idea popped into your mind. You took his hand and gestured for him to sit down. Trying to calm yourself down, you kissed your husband first before prying his legs open and kneeling down between them, instead of sitting beside him.

“What are you doing?” he smirked, enjoying the sight in front of him.

“I was thinking I could ride you on it instead, but first…”

With a coy smile, you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard cock. Licking your lips in anticipation, you wrapped your hand around him, thumb circling at the precum beading on his crown.

Yoongi hissed at sensation, bucking his hips up. “Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. It’s been a month.” His hands ran through your hair to keep them out of the way and prompted for you to start.

“Happy anniversary,” you greeted him before placing sloppy, wet mouth kisses on the head of his dick and moving them down while your hand was steadily stroking the base and the other was gently squeezing and rolling his balls.

When you made sure to coat every inch of his cock with your saliva, you kissed his crown one more time before taking him in your mouth, trying to fit whatever you can while your hand covered the rest.

“Ahh, that feels so good, babe. I’ve really missed you,” he rasped.

You moaned around him as you felt yourself getting wet even just at the sound of his voice and at the feeling of his heavy cock sliding in and out of your mouth. One of his hands weaved into your hair once again to carefully guide you at the pace he wanted. He bit his lip in concentration as he tried to restrain himself from just snapping his hips up to fuck your face but failing a couple of times, making you choke and teary-eyed.

Yoongi couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, mouth wide open full of his cock, eyes in tears staring up at him. His other hand cupped your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so well.”

His moans were getting louder and he started to lose control of his hips, a sign that Yoongi’s close to his orgasm. You released his cock to tease him a little bit, swirling your tongue over again at the sensitive spot of his crown as you pumped his length, making him all whiny as he repeated your name again and again like a mantra along with few curse words, before sucking him whole again with the intention of swallowing his hot cum. Which Yoongi delivered, a lot. And loudly.

You pulled yourself off of his cock, still semi-hard, and opened your mouth to show him that you’ve swallowed every drop of his cum. Still breathing heavily, Yoongi smiled proudly at you. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N baby. Come here.”

“Not to doubt you, but are you sure this won’t give out on us?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling where the swing is hanging.

“Of course not, at least three people can sit here. We’ll be fine, even when we finally have our kid sitting down here with us,” he replied, helping you get up at your feet.

You stared down at him, grinning at the thought of your kid playing at this very porch swing their daddy made in the future. But first, it’s gonna mommy and daddy’s turn on the swing for a while.

Because of the disastrous shower session earlier, you tried to make it up to your husband by wearing his favorite black lace lingerie underneath one of your red dress that gave out the equal vibe of classy and slutty to entice him on. You also figured, might as well wear them while you still can.

You unbuttoned the dress open from the top, revealing the lacy bra, causing Yoongi to raise his eyebrows.

“You wore lingerie to work?”

“Yeah, it turned out to be quite itchy and uncomfortable to wear for a long time actually,” you pouted. “Help me out of it, please.”

Yoongi leaned forward, one of his hands held you firmly by your waist while the other slipped beneath your dress, running his fingertips along the edge of your underwear before pulling them aside to sink a finger inside your cunt and moving it in a ‘come hither' motion. He added another finger while his thumb drew circles on your clit to send you over the edge.

You gasped, your hands paused from unclasping your bra to balance yourself on your husband’s shoulders as he stretched you out, spreading your slick all over your slit. When your juices had dripped down on his wrist, Yoongi took that as a cue that you’re wet enough and hooked his hands around your underwear to remove them before pulling you into his lap.

He gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching them up to your waist. You bit your lower lip as your pussy was pressing against his cock, feeling hard and thick against your wet core. Feeling impatient as Yoongi kissed your neck, you tried to move your hips, chasing that pleasure the friction gave you, in which you earned a gentle slap in the ass from him.

“Take this off,” he said, toying with the strap of your bra.

You nodded like a good girl, unclasping them from behind and took the straps of your shoulders. Yoongi pulled down your dress, revealing your tits. He stared at them for a second, both of his hands cupping each breast gently, thumbs grazing your soft skin and hardened nipple. You were about to make a joke when he leaned down to start licking and sucking one of your tits, while he massaged the other one.

While he was busy, you attempted to get yourself off by rocking your hips against him again, whether on his cock or his thigh, you didn’t care. A cry left your lips when he slapped your ass once again, a bit harder this time, before proceeding to grab your ass in his hands and dig his fingers in to help you move. You whimpered every time your sensitive clit rubbed pass his tip, making him almost poked your entrance.

Yoongi switched his attention on your other tit, but never faltering his movement to make you come on his cock. He could feel you’re close, your folds fluttering against his cock, your hips jerking more uncontrollably, your juices running down on his skin to the foam cushion he newly bought, making a mental note to buy a new one.

“Y—Yoongi…” you moaned, eyes scrunched close and head thrown back. “Oh, I'm gonna—oh fuck Yoongi—”

He looked up from your chest to stare at the fucked out expression on your face as you come, his hands on your hips controlling your move to help you ride out your orgasm. When he felt that you’re almost done coming down from your high, Yoongi lifted you up to line his tip against your entrance and helped you sink down on his cock. You moaned loudly at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out so deliciously after a month without an intercourse.

None of you spoke for a while, but you were thankful that Yoongi didn’t fuck you right away and instead let you adjust to the size as he sucked and nibbled every inch of your skin.

“If I’m pregnant right now, does that mean we don’t need a condom for a while? Or you can still get me pregnant while I’m pregnant?”

“It can happen, but it’s rare.” Yoongi saw your concerned expression, so he asked, “Do you want me to wear one?”

You smiled and shook your head immediately. “No. I want to feel you.” With that being said, you hooked your arms across his shoulders and started to bounce on his cock, grinding your clit on his pelvis everytime you come down.

Despite the frustrations and longing that Yoongi had built up for a month, he managed to calmly hold back and sit there as you ride him. At the back of his mind, he was also hesitant to pound his dick in and out of you without a care because he’s afraid he might hurt the baby. So he let you control the pace while his hands wander over your body, palming your tits and smacking your ass.

“Ahh Yoongi… please, fuck me.” You couldn’t keep your upper body straight anymore as your walls began on clenching around his dick, so you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I can’t—I feel so close again…”

“I know, baby, I got you now. You did great,” Yoongi whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on your head. He gripped your thighs in place, thrusting his hips upward into you and picked up the pace to bring you to your second orgasm.

You cried out in pleasure as Yoongi kept hitting that sweet spot inside you, your body beginning to tremble in his arms. You could feel him getting close too by the way his thrusts were being quick and sloppy so you curled your hand around the curly strands on his nape, your lips leaving wet kisses on his neck as you tried to give him hickeys.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit baby…”

You were lucky you live in a remote place and didn’t have any neighbors for miles as they would’ve surely heard Yoongi's loud groans and your high-pitched moans as you came together. Yoongi had thrust one more time inside you, bringing your hips down as he flushed your bodies together and filled your cunt with his thick cum.

None of you wanted to move at that moment, just catching up on your breaths and occasionally rocking your hips into each other for a potential round two when your stomach had a sudden craving — dumplings.

And dumplings reminded you of — “Oh my, god, we’re gonna have a baby dumpling in a few months.”

“I’m not a dumpling,” he groaned, burying his face on the crook of your neck as you laugh.

Min Yoongi was many things—a carpenter, a songwriter and producer, a basketball player, a dumpling (despite his denial), your loving husband, and in a few months, a proud father.

Hello! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and please, reblogs and feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated :)

If you want to support me and help with my dental care funds, please consider tipping me at ko-fi.com/aphrodijin or commission me to write you a fic. I could really use some help.

Thank you so much once again, have a great day! x

©️ 2022 aphrodijin

[blorbo-gerrymandering]

Round 2

Baseball has sponsorships, right? If not maybe Blaseball does.

Propaganda Under The Cut

Jaylen Hotdogfingers:

The greatest came-back-wrong character ever. She's the mayor of Seattle. She's was the best pitcher in the league. She was murdered by an umpire in an act of divine retribution for the fanbase's transgression. The fanbase exploited game mechanics to bring her back to life. Immediately she murdered 12 people. She died again and got revived a second time as part of a team of undead players that killed god. She's a really awful batter. She has, like, 16 songs written about her and they're all really good. I thought about her every single day for a period of six consecutive months. I love her.

I'll be real. I'm an outsider to the Blaseball fandom. I don't understand it. I think they've crowdfunded characters from fictionalized fucked-up Baseball stats and a dream. I love seeing what the fuck they're doing in their eldritch sandbox just so much.

Simon Laurent:

I love him so much! Yay! Yippie! he got what he deserved tho

have i submitted him yet? if yes here he is again. what did you do to my French man, now he has anxiety, and maybe 50 other things. i can fix him, but it would require a lot of time travel and a complete lack of trains. as i can't do that, he instead gets his very own tumblr poll submission. one vote for train man is one dollar towards the invention of the simon-specific time machine. (your other guys cant come unless they have the same name sorry) its for a good cause

imagine: youre in the trolley situation. well an oh-so-kind tumblr user decided to give everyone who submits this character a get-out-of-a-train-free ticket! use that ticket, and you're no longer responsible for the death of someone (or you are no longer fated to die)!

[rebeccathenaturalist]

An App Does Not a Master Naturalist Make

Originally posted on my website at https://rebeccalexa.com/app-not-master-naturalist/ - I had written this as an op-ed and sent it to WaPo, but they had no interest, so you get to read it here instead!

I have mixed feelings about Michael Coren’s April 25 Washington Post article, “These 4 free apps can help you identify every flower, plant and tree around you.” His ebullience at exploring some of the diverse ecological community around him made me grin, because I know exactly what it feels like. There’s nothing like that sense of wonder and belonging when you go outside and are surrounded by neighbors of many species, instead of a monotonous wall of green, and that is a big part of what led me to become a Master Naturalist.

When I moved from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest in 2006, I felt lost because I didn’t recognize many of the animals or plants in my new home. So I set about systematically learning every species that crossed my path. Later, I began teaching community-level classes on nature identification to help other people learn skills and tools for exploring their local flora, fauna, and fungi.

Threeleaf foamflower (Tiarella trifoliata)

Let me be clear: I love apps. I use Merlin routinely to identify unknown bird songs, and iNaturalist is my absolute favorite ID app, period. But these tools are not 100% flawless.

For one thing, they’re only as good as the data you provide them. iNaturalist’s algorithms, for example, rely on a combination of photos (visual data), date and time (seasonal data), and GPS coordinates (location data) to make initial identification suggestions. These algorithms sift through the 135-million-plus observations uploaded to date, finding observations that have similar visual, seasonal, and location data to yours.

There have been many times over the years where iNaturalist isn’t so sure. Take this photo of a rather nondescript clump of grass. Without seed heads to provide extra clues, the algorithms offer an unrelated assortment of species, with only one grass. I’ve gotten that “We’re not confident enough to make a recommendation” message countless times over my years of using the app, often suggesting species that are clearly not what I’m looking at in real life.

Because iNaturalist usually offers up multiple options, you have to decide which one is the best fit. Sometimes it’s the first species listed, but sometimes it’s not. This becomes trickier if all the species that are suggested look alike. Tree-of-Heaven (Ailanthus altissima), smooth sumac (Rhus glabra) and eastern black walnut (Juglans nigra) all have pinnately compound, lanceolate leaves, and young plants of these three species can appear quite similar. If all you know how to do is point and click your phone’s camera, you aren’t going to be able to confidently choose which of the three plants is the right one.

Coren correctly points out that both iNaturalist and Pl@ntNet do offer more information on suggested species—if people are willing to take the time to look. Too many assume ID apps will give an easy, instant answer. In watching my students use the app in person almost everyone just picks the first species in the list. It’s not until I demonstrate how to access the additional content for each species offered that anyone thinks to question the algorithms’ suggestions.

While iNaturalist is one of the tools I incorporate into my classes, I emphasize that apps in general are not to be used alone, but in conjunction with field guides, websites, and other resources. Nature identification, even on a casual level, requires critical thinking and observation skills if you want to make sure you’re correct. Coren’s assertion that you only need a few apps demonstrates a misunderstanding of a skill that takes time and practice to develop properly—and accurately.

Speaking of oversimplification, apps are not a Master Naturalist in your pocket, and that statement —while meant as a compliment–does a disservice to the thousands of Master Naturalists across the country. While the training curricula vary from state to state, they are generally based in learning how organisms interact within habitats and ecosystems, often drawing on a synthesis of biology, geology, hydrology, climatology, and other natural sciences. A Master Naturalist could tell you not only what species you’re looking at, but how it fits into this ecosystem, how its adaptations are different from a related species in another ecoregion, and so forth.

Map showing Level III and IV ecoregions of Oregon, the basis of my training as an Oregon Master Naturalist.

In spite of my criticisms, I do think that Coren was absolutely onto something when he described the effects of using the apps. Seeing the landscape around you turn from a green background to a vibrant community of living beings makes going outside a more exciting, personal experience. I and my fellow nature nerds share an intense curiosity about the world around us. And that passion, more than any app or other tool, is fundamental to becoming a citizen naturalist, Master or otherwise.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

[asksythe]

Ah? What do you mean mpreg is built into the setting of MDZS?

I mean exactly what I said. It's part of the setting. Mpreg is part of MDZS setting.

Or rather, mpreg is part of any and all xianxia or Chinese fantasy settings. Mpreg is not impossible... or even truly rare... in xianxia setting. There are at least three different regular ways for men to get pregnant in this kind of setting, even for low xianxia like MDZS.

Xianxia is Chinese fantasy. Cultivators cultivate until immortality. The upper level of cultivation, an immortal becomes a facet of reality and bends the world to their will. Some can even create an entirely new world wholesale. What's getting pregnant compared to that?

Sure, the setting of MDZS is low xianxia. But we know at the very least a lot of MDZS cultivators are at the Jindan stage. Do you know which stage comes right after the Jindan stage?

元婴 Yuanying. The common English translation for this stage is Nascent Soul. But its real meaning is nascent / origin child/baby/infant.

How does yuanying come about? Well, a cultivator at the end of Jindan stage will go through tribulation. If they pass through tribulation successfully, the jindan (golden core) in their belly will collapse and out comes a baby. This baby then takes over the task of the jindan, circulating the cultivator's chi and feeding off of it. The baby will grow alongside the cultivator's progress, eventually maturing and potentially becoming a separate person should the parent allows it.

(Game interface from a Chinese cultivation game)

This stage is very well documented in actual real-world ancient texts by Wu Liupai, dating back to the 16th century. It's not a modern concept made up for entertainment. It's part of actual real-world Daoist practices and beliefs.

...And xianxia is the brought up to eleventh fantasy version of real-world Daoism. Think about it.

So in truth, every single high-level Jindan stage cultivator in MDZS is just one stage and one successful tribulation away from getting preggo whether they want to or not. (Yes. Every single one of them. Not just Wei Ying or Lan Wangji, but also Jiang Cheng, Lan Qiren, Lan Xichen, Xiu Xingchen, Song Lan, Nie Mingjue... if he didn't die, etc... Not Jin Guangyao, though. He's too weak to get pregnant. Jin Zixuan, maybe)

You don't even have to be a cultivator or in a xianxia setting to get pregnant (whether you are male or female or whatever). Artificially induced pregnancy has been a thing in Chinese folklore since the Summer and Autumn period (BCE). Several different classics mention a fruit called 孕果 yunguo (Lit. Pregnant Fruit). This fruit bestows the ability to get pregnant to anyone who eats it, regardless of gender. Sexual activity with a man is still required, though. Can't make something out of nothing.

And the most famous and widely known in Chinese folklore: water from the River of Mother and Child 子母河. Anyone who drinks this water becomes pregnant, regardless of gender (or even species, actually). You know the most famous person who drank it? The monk Tan Sanzang... and his disciple Zhu Bajie (a male pig), and Sha Wujing (a male fish). It's been made into several TV series and movies. In one of those movie adaptations, Tang Sanzang even carried the pregnancy to term as he wasn't willing to terminate a life and saw this as an opportunity to experience the female side of life.

In the same story, Journey to the West, a rock was pregnant with Son Wukong and gave birth to him.

You have to remember this. Ancient Chinese didn't really think of pregnancy as a biological process requiring sperm and eggs like we do today. They thought of it as a concentration and condensation of qi (breath of the world) until the 'mother body' was saturated with fetal qi and gave birth.

Real-world folklore texts are chockful of such instances where things got pregnant with the breath of the world and gave birth. And that's just regular folklore, not the brought-up-to-eleven version that is xianxia.

[the-au-thor]

Bestfriend Blurb #5 | Spencer Reid

This one's for the beautiful creature who kindly asked me for another blurb and gave me ideas for it. I know is not exactly what you asked for but this is the first part of your request. Hope you can enjoy it!

This is part of a series of blurbs that you can find down below:

#1

#2

#3

#4

#5

#6

Summary: Spencer and Reader are bestfriends who are in love with each other but they don't know it yet. Let's see how they find out.

Words: 1.5 k

Warnings: Go to this link!

"Are you okay?" you asked casually from your seat to Spencer, who was enjoying a glass of iced tonic water with lemon slices and mint. "Want to leave? We can go."

He smiled playfully and shook his head. "Of course not. Enjoy your margaritas, and we can leave when everyone else does."

That night marked the end of your exhibition. A photography magazine even interviewed you, which you found utterly crazy. The whole team attended the gallery, including a couple of other FBI agents and your old friends from college. After the gallery, Penelope and Emily insisted on celebrating at one of their favorite karaoke bars. When you arrived at the bar, Spencer extended his arm in front of you, palm open, asking for the keys to your car and officially declaring himself your designated driver. "You don't like driving," you argued, but he flashed one of his childlike smiles and shook his head, "It's your night, and I know you want to enjoy your margaritas. I'll drive us home."

Home.

Spencer's apartment had been infested with mold a couple of months ago, requiring urgent renovations. You couldn't resist pointing out it was due to lack of ventilation and his habit of keeping the curtains constantly closed. His landlord promptly announced that Spencer needed to leave the apartment for him to repair the whole mess before the mold spread to other units. That was the day Spencer became homeless and the day he started calling your home his own. It wasn't strange for him to bring his things to your apartment and take up the guest room. You got used to his quirks, like his clinical cleaning sprees when anxiety hit. Being roommates with Spencer was great, but what you never got used to was the warm and terrifying feeling whenever Spencer called your place "home."

"It's been a very long day," you murmured. "I'll have this last margarita, and then we can go," you promised, relaxing back into your seat, watching Derek and Savannah share a drink while following the music of a song Penelope and Emily were singing—or rather, destroying.

Lizzie, by your side, sipped her gin and tonic with a somewhat strange look. She seemed miles away inside her mind.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

She snapped out of her reverie, momentarily startled.

"Nothing."

"If something's bothering you—"

"No" she quickly answered.

"Yes," you insisted confidently.

She furrowed her brow. "No."

"Yes," you retorted, imitating her gaze until she finally rolled her eyes.

"Oh, you're a pain in my ass. I'm just tired; it's been a long night," she admitted, then smiled, nudging your shoulder. "But I'm proud of you; you stepped out of your comfort zone and succeeded."

Your cheeks blushed slightly, but you couldn't deny it. You were happy to have done it, and finally, the photos you had taken over the years saw the light. You took the last sip of your margarita and hopped off your chair with a light skip. Amir and Emma, your old college friends, convinced you to join them for one last song before leaving—a karaoke favorite: "I Want You Back" by the Jackson 5, full with choreography.

"That was amazing. It's always so much fun when you guys do that," Spencer exclaimed with a smile as he put on his jacket.

You had introduced Amir and Emma to the team years ago, and they occasionally met up in a bar to catch up and sing. Karaoke had become a tradition, and it wasn't the first time Emma, Amir and you pulled off such a performance you had prepared during your college years.

"It is fun. Maybe we'll convince you to join us someday," Amir replied with a smile, not expecting an immediate response from Spencer. He planted a kiss on each of your cheeks and cradled your face affectionately. "I'm so proud and jealous of you. The exhibition was fantastic. If you weren't doing such a wonderful job at the FBI, I'd try to persuade you to leave it for photography," he said, bidding you farewell and hugging Spencer.

You said your goodbyes, knowing that Emily, Penelope, and Lizzie would stay a bit longer that night. You and Spencer left the bar, facing the cool night as you crossed the street toward your car parked on the edge of an alley.

"Oh no," Spencer whispered, searching for something in his bag before getting into the car.You looked at him, furrowing your brow as he stepped into the passenger seat. "What happened?"

"I left the notebook you gave me at the gallery... do you think we can go get it now?"

You patted the inside pocket of your jacket where the keys to the gallery were, keys you would return tomorrow when picking up the photo frames you left hanging. You nodded, getting into the car.

"With all that eidetic memory, and you forget your notebook at a gallery," you teased, laughing, and then nodded again, making the keys jingle outside your pocket. "Let's go."

"It'll only take a moment," he promised quickly.

You knew how important that notebook was to him. You had given it to him as a kind gesture a few years ago. You didn't know him well then, having recently joined the BAU, and you had made an effort to get along with everyone by giving them a small gift to break the ice. It had worked wonderfully with Spencer. You still didn't know why that little notebook had made him so happy or why it was imperative for him to carry it everywhere, but the thought that he liked it so much pleased you.

"I hate that these things have so many locks," you complained, unlocking the last latch and pushing the door open for Spencer and you to enter the gallery. You turned to the entrance to switch on the lights. "Do you remember where you left it, or do we have to comb through the whole pla—?" Your sentence cut off because suddenly, you were breathless.

The walls were no longer adorned with your photographs (the ones you had left there just two hours ago). You silently took a step forward to scrutinize the first large canvas. You looked at Spencer, who was studying you attentively with a mischievous smile trying to hide.

"What is this?" you asked with an excited smile, not really knowing what to make of the photo that had immortalized the day when everyone decided to go for a long walk and picnic. On the way back, Penelope had twisted her ankle, and you and J.J. had decided to carry her in turns. In the photo, you were holding Pen in your arms, both smiling tiredly at the camera. "Spencer?" you looked at him again, waiting for an answer.

He smiled at you again, this time slightly moved, and took your shoulders to guide you to the next photograph. "You always portray us so we won't forget the good times we spend together," he explained, stopping you in front of a picture where you were painting Henry's face while wearing raccoon ears and having your face covered in makeup. You were sitting in front of him looking concentrated, while the little guy smiled with his eyes closed. "I don't want you to forget that you, too, are worthy of being photographed, and these moments are important."

Moved, you looked at him with teary eyes and turned back to hug him.

"That's why Lizzie was acting strange. She knew," you said when you ended the hug.

Spencer smiled."Yeah"

"Did you come up with this? Only you?" And he nodded "why?"

He furrowed his brow, looking at the photograph and then at you. "I don't know," he honestly admitted. "I just wanted to make you happy."

Your heart skipped so strongly that you couldn't stay near him without doing something foolish.

You looked around, distancing yourself from Spencer to explore the gallery at a safe distance, seeing all those photos he had compiled. Then you answered back.

"Just look at me, Spence," you pointed to the photos. "I'm already happy."

And you were. You were happy with him. For him. You were happy with your work and your friends. Right now, if allowed to exaggerate, you were the happiest person on earth.

You walked a couple more times, remembering those moments with Spencer, laughing at the anecdotes encapsulated in each photo. Occasionally, in silence, you wondered why you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. You were calm, though, as if you had been anesthetized by that emotion you felt when seeing Spencer's surprise. In the silence of the place that accompanied you and Spencer, it would never feel forced or uncomfortable.

Peace.

Happiness and peace.

On the way home, you carried with you the trunk full of photographs that Spencer had taken the trouble to print and hang in the gallery. You didn't know where to put them in the apartment you shared, but you couldn't leave them lying in the gallery, not with everything they meant to you. They weren't special because you were in them; they were special because they were Spencer's gift, because he had taken them.

You brushed your teeth after taking a bath and changed into a loose and comfortable pajama. You walked down the hall to Spencer's room and tapped on his door gently. When he opened it, he was, like you, with wet hair and ready for bed.

"I just wanted to thank you for today," you murmured, then gave him a broad and honest smile. "It's been the best day I've had in a long time."

Spencer's eyes did that thing they usually did; they smiled, rising with appreciation and something more, a kind of intimacy that cut through the air in your lungs and made you feel dizzy.

"It's nothing," he replied. "I'm glad you liked it," he said, embarrassed.

"Goodnight, Spencer. Tomorrow, I'll make gratitude waffles."

Spencer accepted without hesitation; he couldn't refuse your traditional mountain of waffles with melted chocolate in the middle and small bacon muffins decorating the plate.

"Goodnight," he bid you farewell. "See you in the morning"

You hurried your steps to your room and locked yourself in as if you were escaping something dangerous. Your heart started pounding again.

He was so special, Spence. You just couldn't live without him. He was just....

Panic ran through your veins with adrenaline. You threw yourself onto your bed, typing quickly in your chat with Lizzie.

"I like Spencer."

Three simple words, and three dots that moved hyperactively on Lizzie's side of the chat.

"Okay, good. Now try again." She finally wrote back.

You bit your lips until they hurt.

"I love Spencer."

Another three simple words, but now they were the right ones because just writing them made you feel like a heavy burden had left your body. Your lungs filled with air again, and tears welled up in your eyes without you realizing they had been waiting a long time to be released.

"I mean I'm also in love with him" you clarified.

"Ding, ding, ding!!" She wrote back as you locked the screen and let out a tiny scream.

You stretched out on your bed with this new realization knocking you out, and you looked at the ceiling completely relieved. Many things now made sense, and at the same time, everything looked terrifying. You were in love with your bestfriend. The man who was in his room sharing home with you.

Spencer, on the other hand, stood behind his bedroom door, where he hung the only photograph he decided not to show you in the gallery because it was too accusatory. Derek had taken it when they went for coffee in Utah during a challenging case investigation. Derek waited for them in the table while you and Spencer decided what to order at the counter. You were studying the menu written on a huge blackboard with concentration while Spencer smiled at you, playing with your hair, unbeknownst to you.

That photograph made him think about all the times he had done that without realizing it. He became even more aware that he didn't touch people, but certainly he didn't have that problem with you. He felt vulnerable but also free. And as he looked at the photo with a smile, he wondered why the hell, when you asked why he had bothered to prepare that surprise, he didn't answer that it was because he had recently discovered that he loved you.

He was in love with you.

[rite4fun]

soft hands

heyyy 🤪

i started this in the midst of my other writings- forgot about it and then i recently found it again and fell back in love with it so.. here it is finally!! // also my first request ever which is really exciting and special so i hope this doesn’t disappoint, i’ve spent the last two days perfecting it so if there is mistakes- idk man I have to stop looking at it before i go crazy 😭

requested by: @endlessvoidd

an angsty/fluffy/!!smutty!! fic based on this song - i.e. my interpretation into this.

18+ content

••

love is a fickle thing.

coming in many forms but always ending in similar fashion: heartache.

atleast that’s what it felt like to you. it was as if the whole world remained stagnant while your own went up in flames. but that’s what pain does to one, isolating them so only they feel as if there was no one else who could ever feel the way it made them.

this pain often took the shape of another human.

one that claimed another name, promising safety and care but never keeping to their word. it was a cycle they used, a ruse to get you under their control and you fell for it everytime.

a faux charming smile mixed with poisoned sweet words held in devilish hands.

your colorful heart so open for loving that it made you vulnerable to the ones who were willing to hold it. their rough hands gripping so tightly till you’d bruise only black and blue.

so now as the whole world burns, you had found solace in your own. it no longer felt like you were underwater, suffocating in the abyss of darkness that always seem to swallow you.

you’d been pushed to your limits, forced to become stronger and bolder in your decisions. you had too- in order to survive this new world where the only thing that mattered was living to see the next day. it was no longer a place that required such care or attention to minuscule feelings like love.

until you met him. daryl dixon.

someone with no smile, spoke very little words but otherwise soft hands.. someone who you never thought you’d fall for, especially in this seemingly mundane world.

but here you were..

it was like those pieces you left behind had come crumbling back into existence.

the colors of your broken heart, blooming together for another and no matter how hard you tried to deny the feelings, they would always be there, lingering into every touch, every gaze, every moment you had with him until it became too much to bare.

but even then, you’d do nothing.. never to push or pull him, you’d take whatever you could get because even without him reciprocating any feelings, it was the happiest you’d ever been.

••

violet, the selfless lover.

sweat glistened over his muscled arms, his sleeveless shirt accentuating his broad shoulders before dipping at his waist and hips that shift as he fiddles with his belt.

a familar sight: his back turned to you.

you lie in bed in the aftermath of your indulgences. the only covers having survived your rushed intimacy were the thin sheets that you pull up to your chest, shielding parts of yourself that he has already seen but now, not in a fit of hurried passion, it felt too vulnerable.

especially now, in the moments he quickly slips away into the night, void of live beings and caped into darkness.

your eyes flutter shut, ears catching the light sounds of his shuffling as he gathers himself. you swallow the suffocating words, the ones that ask him to lie back down with you.. to hold you, love you, touch you.

just this once, stay.

you repeat the words over and over in your head, hoping that somehow he would suddenly be able to read your mind but like clockwork, you hear him pause.

his motions freezing as you feel his gaze struck on your body, casted in the moonlight revealed from the open shades of the window that releases the heat of the room. you always wondered if in these moments he ever thinks about it.. staying.

laying down beside you as his hands caress the parts he had once gripped tightly in desire. your head upon his chest so you could listen to his heartbeat thudding softly against your ear. his arms wrapped around your frame, caging you in protectively.

but alas, it’s only seconds later, he’s moving again.

you steady your breathing, fighting every urge to twitch and allowing him to believe you have fallen asleep. you really aren’t sure who you do it more for: him, so there are no awkward goodbyes or yourself, so you don’t have to endure the pain that comes with his departure.

he always leaves though so your troubles never really vanish so you guess, in a sense it’s more for him.

you remember the first time it happened, after traveling together for so long with tensions high whenever you were near each other- it seemed inevitable. grappling at one anothers bodies in haste as you fought to stay quiet in hershels now cleared out barn.

embarrassingly that same night, you had expected something different. that it meant you no longer had to tip toe around the supposedly feelings between you both- except it appeared one sided when he left hurriedly after your secret escapade.

then you supposed it should have remained a one time thing but something kept pulling you both back towards the other and as time passed with more people added to your group, you figured you two would grow even further apart but no-

it wasn’t like he ever seeked you out but it was almost like he was always waiting, finding hidden spots wherever to succumb to your primal states before parting and acting as if you weren’t just moaning each others names in bliss.

maybe that’s the reason you continued to hold on so tightly, he kept coming back and despite his inability to show anything but desire towards you.. it felt like enough.

you felt like you could make it enough.

so you would act like it was all just a passing fleet of passion when it came down to it.. for him.

you can hear his steps around the room before a new pressure of weight covers your body, the welcomed warmth of the duvet setting your heart to burn.

only to be sizzled out by the sounds of his descending steps as he leaves the room, shutting the bedroom door softly before making his way down the stairs and out the front door, locking it with the spare key.

you sit up, gripping the thin sheet around your body as you move to stand at the open window. the streets remain dark but if you squint your eyes enough, you could make up the shape of his body, moving easily through the pitch black night.

the physical distance he puts between you rivals the emotional one that always sits heavily in your chest.

you watch as he approaches his home, the porch light turning on, making his body freeze at the bottom step for only a split second before he’s moving again, disappearing under the porch awning and eventually into the home.

your own home remains silent, quiet, still. completely void of anyone and anything but your soft breaths.

with the loss of some members of the community and the consistent rebuilding, new homes were becoming available. you once resided with the grimes family, michonne, carol and daryl.

until rick approached you all, offering you a place of your own. even before the world went to shit, you never lived alone. having a roommate of sorts or living with a boyfriend, and even when things got rough, your parents invited you in. the idea was unnerving, especially after living in close quarters with your newfound family. it was a change and you couldn’t understand why it made you so unsettled.. but a lot of things have changed since before and you assumed that everyone was trying to settle in more firmly, the grimes family deserved that more than anything so you figured you’d try.

maybe you, carol, and daryl could move into one home together?

but it was never spoken as an option, so you stood with shaky legs in the back of the living room as everyone looked to you in confirmation. you had refused to make eye contact with any of them, especially after carol piped up that daryl was welcome in her new home. isolating you without notice but you didn’t blame her, how could you?

there was plenty of chances for something to come of you and daryl but it didn’t. it wouldn’t, it seemed.

that leap of possibility lingered at arms length, yet felt untouchable.

so you agreed, following rick as he guided you to your very own home, placed conveniently right across the street from carol and daryls new home.

seemingly a physical representation of your inner battle, so close yet so far.

blue, the understanding lover.

there’s an overwhelming amount of yearning in your body as you watch him caress her forehead before pressing a soft kiss to it.

his hand is gentle in his touches, even from afar you can see the way in which everything he does is tender towards her.

for a second, you too, can almost feel the ghost of his touches, equally as soft but less loving and your heart aches at the thought.

you feel a bit ridiculous at being jealous of a baby. a sick baby at that.

“you ready?” your attention is pulled from the bittersweet scene to the woman that’s approaching you.

“‘course, you?” maggie hums with a grin before following your gaze that’s found it’s way back onto him.

“he’s always so good with her, hm?” you can only nod mutely, that ache beginning in your heart, falling to the pit of your stomach as you watch him conversate with rick who gently holds his babygirl in his hands- daryl loves on her with an equally soft touch.

one, your body desperately craves.

despite his hands physically being rough from the countless amount of hours he spends working with them, he had a way of knowing just how to handle you: so soft with the right amount of pressure to still excite you.

the only part missing was the consistency; the knowledge that he was yours as much as you knew he owned every bit of you.

even if he didn’t know it.

you shake your head as if it will physically rid your hopeless thoughts, changing your regard for checking your pack and making sure you’re prepared for the run.

shortly after everyone splits in farewells, six of you pile into a black suv for the trip. you settle in the furthest seats with maggie, rosita and tara infront of you as glenn drives with daryl in shotgun.

an unfortunate sickness had fallen on the community, not yet as severe as the one that had tragically taken place at the prison- but whatever it was spread fast and had sent a dent into the infirmaries medication.

so a pharmaceutical run was needed, especially after little judith herself fell ill.

the six of you volunteered, immediately finding a small community pharmacy close enough that had been scoped out as potential. it was a no brainer when it seemed nearly abandoned, very little walkers surrounding and every bit as hopeful as life could give right now.

upon arriving to the building, you split off into groups of two. you had expected to go with tara but found her already linking and walking off with rosita- and you’d never break up the dream team of maggie and glenn so.. you found yourself left with daryl.

there are very few moments where it’s ever just you two like this, without that fire burning between your bodies. you aren’t sure if that was just dumb luck or something daryl arranged so he never had to be with you alone. either way you never questioned it because sooner or later he would be in your bed, pressed skin to skin as you shared sharply sweet kisses and the feeling of being unwanted vanished.

green, the caring lover.

“shit” daryl curses as you wrap his leg is gauze, covering the wound he inflicted when a shelf fell onto him.

there’s an alarm blaring over your heads and the familar ghastly groans pounding on the pair of front doors that the rest of the four lean against to keep them out.

“did anyone check the back door?!” rosita yells.

“could hear them clawing at it too but i think it’s our best choice.. didn’t sound like too many but if we wait any longer, that could change” glenn speaks through his teeth as his feet slide against the linoleum flooring.

daryl winces when your rushed hands put too much pressure and you mutter a quick apology, “i can clear it”

“nah” you look up at him as he brushes off your offer.

“i don’t think we have much of a choice daryl, i can do it” your voice is quiet against the harsh banging, “we can’t wait it out, they can see us through the doors”

“i said ya ain’t doin’ it. jus’ let me think of somethin’” he makes to get up, his leg nearly collapsing under him in pain but your quick to reach out, grabbing onto his waist to steady him. you’ve never had your hands on him in this way, it feels different yet familar- heartwarming even as you brace his body against yours.

“well, can you think faster because i don’t know how much longer we have until they push through us!” rosita smarts at him, agitated with concern by the situation.

you lift your head to the flashing red lights above then twist it to the back of the pharmacy, “it looks like the alarms are set only upfront, they will be more attracted here than in the back.. i can do it”

you go to release daryl hastily, going to make a break for the back but he grabs your arm, clear irration oozing into his words, “are ya hearin’ me? … you three hold ‘em doors, we’ll let ‘em in one by one”

you stare in disbelief as everyone listens- tara and rosita holding onto one door while glenn has the other, maggie coming to stand next to you readily with her knife in hand.

your attention is then drawn to daryl who pushes your helping hands away in attempt to steady his stance alone, finding a comfortable balance as he readies his own knives.

the echoed alarm has nothing over the sound of your own heartbeat through your ears. there’s mild annoyance that builds in your stomach, in result of daryls doubt of your ability to do anything by yourself.

you find your feet moving backwards on their own accord, watching as they all follow directions but it’s not going to be enough against the growing dead outside- getting close enough to consider a horde. one of them slips, allowing two walkers to stumble in and as maggie and daryl are distracted, you take your sudden leave.

sprinting towards the back before anyone can say anything. the relentlessly pounding is just as loud and the hinges of the back door rattle but the piercing siren has lessened, giving you enough head clearance to search the back room for something to hold against the door. you plan to use the same tactic except it’s just you against the many that stand on the other side.

it’s the only way you can think of to ensure that everyone makes it home with the supplies, a hell of a lot quicker too.

the only things in your vincity is shelves stuffed with random boxes but it will have to do. you yank some down, hoping to lessen the weight of it before you’re shoving at it.

“come on..” you grunt in frustration but with one final harsh shove, it collapses over with a loud bang- a heavy box toppling down along your arm, cutting open a clean laceration from your inner elbow to your wrist, “fuck!”

ironic enough the fallen box now lays crumbled at your feet, busted open and spilling out its contents of bandages. there isn’t time to perfect the wrapping of your arm, nevermind control the consistent bleeding that quickly seeps into the cloth but it works for now.

adrenaline runs through your veins, keeping the pain to a minimum as you drag the shelf to the door, angling it so that it only has a sliver of space to crack open once it hits the fallen piece of metal.

your body feels heavy, exhaustion settling into your bones from this trip already. the idea of crawling into the warmth of your bed, sounded better than ever but it’s not time yet. there was still work to do and your people needed an out, you’ll be damned if daryls remark held you back from a potential opening.

you heave a deep breath, turning the knob just so the door is loose before backing up and readying your knife.

the first few walkers stumble through the crack one by one, easy enough to take out. in a short amount of time, you’d killed a dozen or so and you’re beginning to wonder how many more reside outside the door as you begin to tire out. there’s a pause and no more push through but you can hear them, their monstrous groaning floating through the crack.

you decide to take a breather, dropping your arms in fatigue but it’s the wrong time to rest as another walker squeezes through, having been forced through by another that stumbles in quickly after. you shove tiredlessly at the first one, gripping the second and collapsing to the ground with it as you stab it in it’s head. your knife is a lost cause inside the skull of the walker and you scramble back as the second one stumbles after you, it’s unstable body crumbling ontop of yours.

you have your hurt forearm rested on it’s neck as it’s teeth snaps at you grossly while the other hand pushes at it’s forehead. it’s been awhile since you’ve been so close to a walker like this. since arriving to alexandria, you and maggie worked along with deanna on building a new brighter future for the community.

as time passed, you found being inside the walls wasn’t so bad and the only time you itched to be out was when daryl would be gone on his weeks long recruiting trips.

he is what made alexandria feel more like home to you.

his insane judgement of character made you feel safe, so if he found that trust within those walls- so did you and every other person in your group.

that’s why you needed him to get back, why they all needed to make it back. alexandria would never be the same without him- without any of them.

you internally scoff at your overly ridiculous thoughts, even as you sweat so close to death itself, all you can think about is him.

but with thoughts of getting him out safely, comes a newfound strength as you let it’s forehead go, the walkers head dropping dangerously closer to your face as you scramble for the gun on your hip.

it’s a clean one shot before your throwing the walkers body to the side with a grunt, scurrying back in fear as your heart thuds painfully in your chest.

no matter how many times you’re faced with this new reality, it never fails to scare you shitless with the constant reminder of how living isn’t a promise and looms so dangerously over your head- or directly in your face.

a refreshing soft breeze comes from the cracked door, snapping you from your building anxiety and you hastily crawl to it, pulling it open more and finding the alley clear.

you smile in relief and as much as your body screams to rest, you’re running to grab the others to make a swift escape before anymore walkers can show up.

red, the passionate lover.

the thunderous clouds open for the loud torrents of rain creating a solemn ambience among the community.

similar to the way you feel as you lay on the couch, shades open to watch the droplets that hit the window before sliding down.

freshly showered with a clean bandage on your arm, wrapped in a sweatshirt far too big for your figure and fuzzy socks, you wallow in the warmth of your own home.

there’s a pounding at your front door that interrupts your thoughts, one that could almost rival the thunder released from the sky.

you pull a thin blanket from the couch, wrapping it around yourself as your sock covered feet slide across the wood flooring to the door.

pulling it open, the sky’s weeping shower is louder but what takes your attention is the soaking wet man that stands before you.

“daryl?” head to toe, his body is drenched. his clothes clingling to him, dripping onto your front doorstep. his hair beginning to wave as the tips leak water onto his shoulders and face, in which you finally take in his exasperated expression, “what’s wrong?”

“wha’s wrong?” his tone is full of frustration, “let’s start with tha’ stunt ya pulled earlier today, hm?”

confusion covers your features, your fingers gripping the blanket tighter around your body when a gust of wind and rain blows through, “what do you mean?”

daryl huffs, a hand coming up to swipe over his mouth roughly, “i mean.. ya makin’ a stupid decision tha’ could’ve costed ya, yer life!”

“what?” you can tell your inability to make sense of the conversation only frustrates him more but given that last time you saw him, you guys were fine- as far as him ignoring you, nothing seemed out of the ordinary and now he shows up at your home to yell at you? so yeah, you had a right to be a little confused.

“dun’ play dumb, i told ya the plan and ya ran off! decided playin’ with ya life was the way to go instead!” although it was just hours ago that you laid face to face with death, it felt like days and you no longer cared to linger on it anymore as you stand within the safety of alexandria.

“i made a choice. you have no right to insult me! it saved us, didn’t it?!” you hadn’t expected him to praise you for what you did, but his response to your actions that helped you guys make it back safely was unbelievable, had it been anyone else-

“at what cost?!” clearly you aren’t understanding what he’s saying as he grows more agitated by the second.

“what does it matter? it’s over daryl!” you grip the blanket in one hand as you toss the other out in annoyance.

“ya shouldn’t be risking ya life lik tha’.. fo’ anyone!”

“well i did!”

“why?!”

“because that’s what you do for someone you love!” your chest heaves with rattling breaths, “i-i wasn’t thinking about me, i just knew you had to get out, that’s all i cared about.. you getting home” you turn your head as you feel tears burn in your eyes.

it’d be silent if not for the rumbling downpour coming from the sky above as if the universe too, was upset.

“… ya love me?” bewilderment makes up his otherwise timid tone.

but you can’t face him, the humiliation of outing yourself too much to bare so you just nod your head abashedly, tear-filled gazed locked on a chipped part of the doorway.

“look at me” you can see his body move closer from the corner of your eye but you make no move to change positions.

body aflamed with embarrassment, frozen in time as your mind races through every outcome of this situation. all ending in familiarity: your heart laid crushed in the open, bleeding the many colors it holds. it’s like you can feel the ache of longing that follows as you rethink every moment you guys had together, clinging to the memories to cope with the overwhelming sadness that withers into your chest.

there is no time to mourn something you haven’t lost yet when a pair of hands cup your face gently, forcing your gaze to the sharp blue eyes of daryls.

the distance between your faces closing as his thumbs absentmindedly wipe the tears from under your eyes. the rise of your heartbeat causes your chest to heave with your deep breathes mixing with daryls as his body sways closer. his eyes never leave your face, taking in every inch as if he still can’t believe the words that you uttered so effortlessly in your emotional fit.

“ya mean it?” with your gazes locked, you can finally take in the hidden vulnerability that lies in between his mumbled words. unable to speak with the lump that settles into your throat, you can only nod feverishly in his grip but it isn’t enough as he shakes his head, “say it again” but you respond with your own head shake, finding it hard to grasp onto any words. his rough thumb brushes over your trembling bottom lip soothingly, his tone soft yet encouraging, “ya can, baby.. say it again”

the pet name slips from his lips seamlessly, breaking your resolve as your hand releases the blanket and instead, both reaching out to grip his forearms with soft dry sobs of the words over and over.

i love you. i love you. i love you.

daryl is quick to match your distress with comfort, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold your body flush against his, “i know, i know, i know.. ’s okay baby”

you allow yourself to fall into his arms with a light flush to your cheeks from embarrassment, so quick to fall apart at the slightest coaxing but you needed this. him. you needed him to understand just how much you felt for him and how overwhelming it all was.

his arms are strong, encompassing you in his body heat that lights a fire in your own. your arms snake around his neck, pulling his face closer and it’s enough for him to finally slot your lips together.

despite the growing fever of desire, the kiss remains slow but your grips on each other tighten as he shuffles your bodies into the house, shutting the door all the while keeping his lips attached to yours.

one of his hand slides down your body, gripping your thigh as a signal for you to wrap your legs around him, which you do with a quiet huff.

with blinded knowledge of the layout he takes you to the living room, laying your body gently on the couch.

you shiver at the lack of contact and his piercing stare as he takes in your delicate state. your hair fanning behind your head as the oversized sweatshirt you wear hikes up to your upper thighs, your legs bent yet closed innocently- revealing just the cusp of your bottom to him.

your eyebrows furrow at his longing gaze, poking his leg playfully with your sock covered foot which he grabs. you meet his sharp blue eyes and that growing fire in your stomach heightens at the hunger that lingers in them.

he seems to want to take his time, enjoying the sight of you but the need in you burns painfully for his touch.

tilting your head, you look at him from under your lashes, fluttering them prettily as you reach your hands out towards him.

he comes easily, settling over your body- it should bother you that his clothes remain wet and cold but it soothes your otherwise hot skin when his broad frame settles between your legs.

you’re pulling his lips to meet yours again, letting out a gasp at the sensation, sometimes you forget just how good you guys are together.

having spent years learning how each others bodies work; he knows exactly what touches will have falling apart while gasping his name and you know just how to move to have him desperately coming back for more- you two work together like a well oiled machine.

he lifts off of you, a whimper escaping your throat, “‘s okay baby, jus’ gotta take this off” he’s only able to swipe his signature vest off before you’re sweeping your upper body up to help him unbutton his sleeveless top, “eager, ain’t ya sweethear’?” his hand brushes pieces of your hair behind your ear, finger sliding down your neck and hooking into the crew of your sweatshirt.

you ignore his truthful remark, settling for pushing his shirt off his shoulders before pulling him back over your body, his bare chest pressing through the thick material of your own top yet you feel like you need more.

“more..” you squirm under him as his hands softly wander over your covered frame.

daryl only hushes you, his rough hands sliding under your sweatshirt, meeting the soft skin of your lower stomach, dipping up at your waist, tickling at your ribs until his fingertips skim just under your breasts. you arch beautifully into his hands, eyes hooded in lust as he watches your lips part in a quiet gasp.

your own hands grip at his muscled biceps, fingernails digging in- in anticipated pleasure. your body rolls, thrusting your hips into his in a desperate search of something to ease the throbbing pressure building between your legs.

he seems to take pity on you, lowering his body until he’s eye level to your stomach. his hands bunch up the fabric of your sweatshirt, lifting it just enough to reveal your belly button.

he places kisses under it, a warm and gentle peck that has you sucking your stomach in at the gesture. your hands grip his as you look down, his unruly hair falling into his face, slightly covering his now darkened blue eyes that glanced up every so often to enjoy the way your features contort in bliss. his lips remain on your skin, pressing sloppy kisses wherever he deems fit as he travels up. he keeps up with the lifting of your top, every new layer of revealed skin is left with heated, wet kisses that the air cools over- the sensation of it all, sending a thrilling shiver throughout your whole body.

you can’t seem to control your hips, bucking everytime daryl stops and takes a nibble at your skin before licking over it soothingly.

with your sweatshirt finally bunched under your pits to reveal your breasts to the open air, nipples hardening at the change of temperature. daryl kisses in the valley of your chest before humming to himself when he gets his lips around one of your nipples, his scruff scratching over the soft skin while one of his hands finds your other breast, calloused fingertips running over the nipple.

the change of position has daryls hips pressed right against yours, his jean covered bulge digging into your thinly covered core. a simple roll of your hips has your eyes rolling back, a choked gasp releasing from your mouth at the newfound pleasure.

daryl has switched to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the last before he can’t take anymore of your quiet noises- lifting up to take your lips into another biting kiss. his hands grappling to rip off the sweatshirt over your head as he settles back on his haunches, only a sliver of blue visible in his eyes as he takes in your body - only softening a little as they gaze over your bandaged arm.

your legs settle over his thighs but the more he stares, the more unsure you become and you find your knees turning in- in an attempt to hide the most vulnerable part of yourself but daryl doesn’t let you get far, immediately gripping them to push them back out. one hand holds the crease of your knee, keeping your legs apart while the other slips down to your covered core, fingertips dancing over the wet patch of your panties.

the same way he seems entranced by your figure, you can’t take your eyes off him. on normal circumstances, he never took his time: seemingly too overwhelmed with desire to play things out, only taking exactly what he came for and never lingering after.

now though, his hands eagerly pause to truly appreciate whatever details he’s found of your body. his eyes lost in the way you move, the way you look.. finally he gets the chance to fully indulge the parts of you he never got to take advantage of in your unspoken situationship.

you huff as your hips press more firmly into his hands, daryls eyebrows raising in amusement at your clear impatience.

“jus’ wanted ta look at m’ girl” his mocking tone only burns the flames hotter in your body, “tha’s wha’ ya are, hm? mine?” he pushes your panties to the side, your dripping core pulsing in anticipation. he drags his fingertips through the wetness, collecting it before spreading it messily over your lips. he barely skims over your clit but the teasing has your senses on high and you find yourself unable to stop the twitch of your hips, “say it” his motions stop, fingers hovering over you as you meet his darkened gaze.

“i’m yours” your voice is broken, meek and so so beautiful to him, “please, ‘m yours”

maybe another time you’d feel embarrassed about being so desperate but the softness of his hands: the loving way he tends to your neediness has you on cloud nine.

“mm, ‘ve got ya” his gravely voice is only getting deeper, rumbling deep into his chest as he allows two thick fingers to slide into your pulsating hole. after years of being together, your body takes to him easily, opening to accommodate his digits.

“yes…” you hiss as you toss your head back, legs twitching as they threaten to close around his hand, a weak attempt to lock in the pleasure somehow.

daryl only grunts before his fingers are moving, hooking them everytime they slide out to target your gspot, thumb brushing against your throbbing clit. his pace is slower than normal, dragging out the sensation until you forget your name.

your impending orgasm is closer than you thought, his previous teasing ministrations having more of an effect on your body than the rushed ones you’ve endured before- not that those weren’t good but this, this felt stronger and harder to hold back.

as if sensing the same thing, daryls fingers pick up the pace until a slight squelch of your slick is heard over your gasping moans.

“gunna come fo’ me?” it’s sort of useless of him to ask as your eyes threaten to fall into the back your head, your body rolling into his hand uncontrollably and the obvious mewls of pleasure that spill from your lips- yet, you answer in a clumsy nod.

daryl doubles down in his actions, somehow shuffling even closer as he keeps his fingers inside of you and only thrusting deeper with curled fingertips, thumb messily moving over your sensitive clit.

the choked out moan you let out breaks in half into a high pitched squeal, knees helplessly knocking together while your hands reach out to grasp any part of the couch, you could get your hands on as your high hits.

“tha’s it..” the words are more of a growl as daryl watches you fall apart, your cries a muttered mixture of his name and sobs of pure pleasure until your left sinking into the couch with watery doe eyes, flushed cheeks, messy hair, and the heavy rise and fall of your naked chest.

his fingers only linger inside you for a moment more before pulling them out, lifting them to his mouth in a seemless action. he hums happily around his soaked digits as you whimper at the sight, shaky thighs opening back up despite your still throbbing core.

his hands fall to caress the smooth surface of them, eyes lost in the mess of your cunt until your hands reach out, fingers barely tickling over the bulge in his jeans. his hips push forward more and the response is enough for you to lift up, scrambling to unbutton his jeans and hurriedly pulling his cock out from his briefs.

he sits heavy in your palm, angry red tip with decorative blue veins down his shaft. your mouth waters at the sight and you go to lean forward, prepared to make him a mess as much as he did you but a hand grips the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair to tilt your eyes up at him.

your eyes are lust blown and so very eager, only to twinkle with confusion at his next words, “i’ll come too soon”

you pout, “want you too”

at your indignant tone, he cracks a small smile. hand coming up to cup your chin, thumb brushing softly over your lips before falling onto your tongue when you open your mouth- keen on showing him exactly what he is missing out on when the slick muscle swirls around his finger, cheeks holllowing sharply as you bob your head sinfully.

you can feel his cock twitch violently in your hand, your own thumb swiping over his tip to the oozing precum that continuously drips out.

entranced by you, it takes daryl a second to fully pull away: enjoying the suction of his digit and the soft pull of your hand on his cock but he finds the control to back away.

your eyesbrows pull together in confusion, a flash of hurt covering your features when he stands up from the couch- a sudden doubtful feeling that this isn’t what you thought it was settling into your head.

“not going anywhere, jus’ takin’ my jeans off sweethear’” his reassuring words ease the tension in your body as you melt back into the couch. his briefs come down with his jeans, revealing his familiar broad body to your eyes, except now, you’re able to fully take him in: fully appreciate his scars, his muscles, his tattoos.. everything that makes him- him. the many reasons you’ve found yourself falling for him before you could even catch yourself, “wha’s that look for?”

you hadn’t even realized you were staring at him a certain way as he settles back inbetween your legs after helping you disgard the last few articles of clothing on your own body.

you squirm under his tickling hands as they graze over your body in a loving manner, you release of sigh of bliss at the motions. his fingers dancing around your waist until you look back into his eyes that hold a questioning gaze.

“just.. love you” you shrug nonchalantly, breaking the intense gaze as your fingers reach out the fiddle with the ones still at your waist- an uncertainty to your already fragile tone.

an obvious fear that you may say the wrong thing, running him off to the hills after getting only a sliver of what could be.

your not sure what to expect but it isn’t his fingers tangling into yours, locking them together and squeezing to gain your attention again.

his chest presses against yours as he leans closer to your face, pecking your lips softly a couple of times before mumbling the words bashfully against them, “love ya too”

you’re at a loss of words, gasping softly as your hands untangle from his to grasp at his face, fingers brushing the stray hairs away so you could get a clear look of his face.

his sight lowers, staring more at your chin in obvious embarrassment, alongside the flash of red that spreads over the apple of his cheeks.

you bite your lip in hopes of curbing your amused smile but you can’t- too overjoyed with his words as you force him to look at you and as if seeing the clear happiness of your own features, he fights to hide his own.

“say it again” you sweetly mock his words from earlier, making daryl rolls his eyes playfully, grumbling as he shifts above you. the new position having his cock pressed against your core- sending a thrilling shock of heat through both you as if you had forgotten where you guys were.

a gasp releasing from both of your mouths as you move against one another, searching for that pleasurable feeling again.

you’re just finding a good rhythm, timing the roll of your hips perfectly with his so that the head of his cock nails your swelling clit everytime but he sits back- an action that has you whining in protest.

“quit tha’” he slaps a hand on your thigh, your body jerking at the delicious sting it brings, before he is guiding his cock to your slick hole. your senses are in overdrive after your first orgasm, the slow stretch of him pushing into you is a tad overwhelming as you reach out for one of his hands. his expression softens, his free hand rubbing soothingly up and down your thigh, even leaning over to press a little kiss on your knee.

your eyes are closed, chest heaving in deep breaths as you feel him enter you inch by inch slowly. in a normal fit of hurried passion, driven by nothing but lust, these moments are easily skipped over. fast paced with only one goal; release.

but now, as you grip onto one hand, his other softly grazing over your body with the odd kiss: it’s nothing but in the rawest form of love.

the simplicity of intimacy.

pressed all the way in, you find your body quickly morphing around the intrusion of him and your eyes finally open, finding his own on your face.

“‘kay?” physically feeling his small loving touches give no justice to the way his eyes glimmer fondly, a small hint of relief in them as if he has been waiting equally as long for you as you have for him.

maybe he has.. maybe his lack of emotions was a protective wall around his heart incase you didn’t truly feel anything for him- other than the odd fleeting need of release.

but you do, you always have and you try your best to convey that through your own expression while nodding to his question.

he chooses in that moment to move, sliding his cock out and slowly thrusting back in.

“ah..” your lips open in a blissful gasp, hips rolling down to meet his.

“yeah?” his tone is soft, hand coming down so his thumb could rub at your swollen clit, the shock of pleasure having you clench around his sensitive cock: a reaction that has him groaning, body slouching until his naked chest rests against yours, his face falling into your neck as his thrusts become more desperate.

your free hand comes to rest on the back of his head, tangling into the unruly strands as he bites at your collarbone with growls of pleasure. your still linked hands press further into the couch, now next to your head as this new position only allows your bodies to slide against each other but it’s enough. your sensitivity bringing your second release faster than the first while daryl heads for his first one after holding back for so long.

his hips stutter against your constant rolling, an attempt to make this last a little bit longer but you only torture him further- intentionally squeezing your walls around him.

“fuck” he pants hotly against your neck, “‘m gonna come if ya don’ stop”

“want you too” you huff back as your motions double down, the combination of your cunt clenching around his thick pulsing cock and the consistent sway of your body against him only pushes him closer to coming but he no longer fights it.

your stomach is tightening in heat as you yank his hair, forcing his head to come out from your neck, teeth clashing a bit clumsy as you pull his mouth to yours.

“do it” you egg him on, lips barely brushing his as he grits his teeth, “‘m yours, yeah? show me”

your bodies slide easily with the building layer of sweat on your skin from the amount of exertion you both use to challenge the other.

“fuckin’..” daryl presses his lips harshly against yours before his hips jerk sharply as he cums, groaning loudly and dropping his forehead on yours as he pants through the buzzing pleasure.

the sight has you nearing your own orgasm, gasping brokenly as you feel his cock twitch, painting your walls white and claiming you in a primal way that sends tingles from your stomach to your toes.

“please.. ‘m so close” you beg prettily as daryls orgasm passes, his attention immediately focusing on your approaching second one as he thrusts shallowly: so deep you feel him hitting spots that bring tears to your eyes, momentarily blurring your vision.

the quick build up has you babbling nothing but nonsense and the odd slip of his name. he has to lean back to take in the enticing vision you’ve become, head thrown back with your eyes shut tight, pink plump lips open to let out the most delicate sounds.

both of your hands now hold his biceps in a deathly grip, trying to find something to ground you as your high gets closer.

daryl tips forward to bite playfully at your chin, “look at me sweethear’”

you whimper before complying, dropping your head down heavily to peer up at him through wet lashes. he holds the eye contact as his hips increase in pace and force, now with his hands free: one settles next to your head, balancing his body above you while the other grips at your waist, pulling you down to meet his.

your second orgasm teeters on the edge of release and it’s like daryl can sense it, leaning down to connect your lips once more before mumbling against them, “‘m girl looks so pretty, hm? tha’s it… gonn’ come one more time fo’ me? promise i’ll take care of ya, let me see sweethear’.. told ya i love ya”

the heartfelt words send you over, your hands pulling him closer as you arch up into him. your eyes roll to the back of your head, cunt clenching tightly around his sensitive cock and thighs trembling around his hips. your cries of pure joy are followed by dry sobs as you try and catch your breath after such an intense high.

daryl is quick to meet your fragile state, petting your hair down as he places small kisses all over your cheeks, nose, corner of your lips, chin, neck, anywhere he could reach as you go through the full motions of your orgasm.

when your body drops heavily back into the couch, your eyes are shut in exhaustion, fully residing in his sweet pampering. the ticklish feeling of his scruffy beard against your neck has you giggling breathlessly, which only results in him groaning in response as you unconsciously squeeze around him.

he lifts to fully pull himself out of your body, both of you hissing in mild discomfort. for a split second as he removes his body completely and stands, you expect him to begin putting his clothes on, preparing to take his usual swift leave but instead he reaches under your body, lifting you bridal style.

“daryl!” you squeal as your arms wrap around his shoulders, an amused smirk falling onto his face as he carries you up the stairs to your ensuite bathroom in silence.

your next actions are equally as quiet, him leaving to grab towels and clothes while you use the restroom and begin the shower. standing infront of the mirror, you take in the new lovebites that scatter around your naked body, luckily in spots you can hide easily. a flush taking over your features even more when he appears in similar fashion: completely nude with scratches and nail indents- a true mess you’ve made of one another.

he hides a coy smile as he saddles behind you, taking in the mere sight he created upon you. you shiver when his hands settle on your hips before slipping to wrap around your front, pulling your back into his chest as he pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

all of his motions tender and loving- something you’ve yearned after for years from him.

and it’s finally happening, a little quicker than you thought too but maybe a little bit of coaxing from both sides is all you guys needed to fall into the right rhythm.

you feel a bit ridiculous that it took this long but the reality of it happening now, you can’t seem to linger on anything other than pure happiness as he holds you so closely.

his blue eyes peek up from behind your shoulder, “‘kay?”

your eyes sparkle with newfound warmth, “i’m okay, you?”

he playfully nibbles at your shoulder, tightening his hold on you even more as you laugh delightfully in response.

the shower is quick, intimate, soft and loving. both of you tending to one another as if you’ve done it for years and maybe you have in your own odd ways- daryl always keeping an eye out for you on supply runs, making sure you had enough for dinner even if it meant giving up some of his, bringing back things he knows you’ll like but gifting them anonymously while you loved him unconditionally, selflessly more giving than taking, accepting his many flaws and mistakes, understanding when he needs space, caring for him in all the ways he would allow you from afar.

he felt like he had a lot of making up to do but once again, you didn’t care as you laid upon his naked chest. freshly cleaned with minimal clothing on, your bodies lay above the sheets, basking in the cool breeze that flowed through the cracked window of your bedroom. the aftermath of the storm bringing glimpses of sunlight and light wind.

a certain calmness relaying over the both of you.

your leg was thrown over his hips, warm body pressed entirely to his side as your head rose with the slow rise and fall movement of his chest, the beating of his heart thudding softly in your ear as one of his hands softly rub your back, the other splaying across his own stomach, loosely wrapped around the wrist of your hand that continues to trace hearts on his chest.

if there was a way to touch you, he was doing it- enjoying the fact that you too, wanted this and diving head first into everything clumsily but oh so sweetly.

the heavy weight of his arms around your body and the warm consistent press of his hands was only a constant reminder that this was infact real.

he was here to finally just stay.

and while you know that this only the beginning, that both of you had to have real, long, uncomfortable conversations about your feelings- this was more than enough for now.

just you, him and his soft hands.

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

akechi's "i do not regret with my choices i'm rather proud" line in no more what ifs is so widely misunderstood it drives me nuts. it's a coping mechanism guys. it's a lie.*

(*that has an element of truth to it, as most of akechi's lies do.)

like. there's this trend to take the line at face value. he doesn't regret what he did for shido. he doesn't feel bad or think he did anything wrong. he has zero remorse. but you shouldn't take anything akechi says at face value, and regret and remorse are two very different things.

there's a lot to unpack here, so bear with me as i try to break it all down.

so okay, the source of this whole misunderstanding--the line in no more what ifs. i've gotten into this before in my analysis of the song, but the context of it is specifically in maruki's reality. goro is looking back on his life and thinking about where he ended up because of his choices. he's thinking, was i a fool? did i mess up? was there a better way? this line of thinking is reflected within the game itself when he explicitly says in the engine room that he wishes he met akira sooner, but that it doesn't matter what he wants because it's impossible to change what happened.

but here's the thing--that impossible wish he made in the engine room, where things were different and he and akira could be friends? it's no longer impossible. it's literally right in front of him. but it has a catch. accepting the reality of his impossible dream comes at the cost of being himself. all his choices and agency will be stolen, including the choices he made in the past that got him here. so he's left with one last choice--accept maruki's reality, give into his desires, and lose himself. or accept the choices he made for himself, and the consequences that came with them.

so, his conclusion in the song is that any what if's and regrets are pointless. he cannot afford to regret. he must be proud of what he did and who he is. goro is terrified of losing himself and being forced into becoming another puppet like he was for shido. (and notice--him acknowledging that he was a subservient puppet before, as he does on 2/2, requires that he's aware that the choices he is so apparently proud of weren't entirely his own. he was pushed there by someone else. he still blames himself for being manipulated, but a part of him knows that what he did for shido was wrong, and that he shouldn't have done it. doesn't sound like someone completely without regrets to me.) so he has to hold onto his choices and be proud of them. he can't let himself be tempted. the price he'd pay for them is far too high.

so, yeah. it's a coping mechanism. he's forced into that conclusion by his circumstances. akechi does regret where life has brought him and how he got there and the choices he's made, but regret is pointless, because he can't change the past and he can't accept maruki's future. so he chooses not to regret. people like him can't let themselves regret.

but of course, that's not all. in a post-canon world where he lives, goro isn't going to suddenly break down and be filled with remorse. because like i said, his feelings are complicated, and he still has his pride. akechi doesn't want to admit his faults or his weaknesses, and he does still think the people he targeted deserved it. so is he remorseful? yes and no. he is aware what he did was wrong, and that it was all for absolutely nothing. but he still doesn't view the world as something worthy of saving or protecting. to him people are all still inherently evil, save perhaps for akira, so what he did was both deserved and negligible, because the people he hurt were on the path of destruction regardless of him anyway.

so feeling for his victims and experiencing true remorse is going to be a process of recovery. at the same time, akechi still has the innocent child who wanted to be a hero hidden inside him. part of him does care, it's just been so neglected he isn't aware of it most of the time. that part of him began to be reawakened with akira and would continue to be as he makes connections, especially with the people he hurt like the phantom thieves.

which is part of why i think akechi befriending and reconciling with the thieves is so important! he needs to face the consequences of his actions and realize what he did didn't just hurt evil people, but innocents too. he needs to learn to see people as beings who can change, who are redeemable and are good. that people can love him even if he's done horrible things. and as he realizes these things about himself, he will eventually start to realize that it's true about the rest of the world, too.

goro wants to believe in the world, and in people. he doesn't anymore, but he wants to. when he starts to believe in people again, that's when he'll be able to finally be honest about his past mistakes, and feel true remorse for his actions and mistakes, and be able to start to make amends. the parts of the detective prince that reflected the little boy who believed in truth and justice are still in him somewhere, he just needs a lot of time, self reflection, recovery, and help to rediscover those parts of himself.

another aspect of this is how akechi voluntarily turns himself in. i do think there are ulterior motives here, mainly that he can be the one to help convict shido. it's also self-destructive, a way to sort of end his life when literally doing that didn't work. it's the path of least resistance, where he never has to truly look back on his crimes and self reflect because well, he's paying for his crimes anyway, so who cares. it's the easy out. but it also shows that he is aware what he did was wrong and that it's right for him to try to make amends. goro isn't totally without remorse or regret. his remorse and regret literally pushed him into trying to kill himself. he's just very, very bad at coping with them, and so chooses instead to repress those emotions like he has been for years.

okay, so, conclusion. stop forcing in lines in comics and fic where akechi is like "I don't regret!" without also portraying the nuance lying beneath that line. how in third sem it's a coping mechanism, and otherwise it's a shield keeping him from being honest with himself about his past and his ruined dreams of being a hero. remorse ≠ regret, and goro feels both but to different extents and different reasons. he hates his victims, but he's deluding himself about their guilt, and once that delusion crashes down and he sees that he's hurt innocents, he's going to have to deal with a lot of intense feelings like his already existing self hatred.

akechi isn't some heartless killer who feels nothing for his victims. he's only using that idea of himself as a coping mechanism. he forced himself to become that by repressing the parts of him that care until he can barely feel them anymore. he isn't just the black mask, he is also the detective prince. he's both. akechi is and always will be both sides of himself, even when he tries so hard to shut one of those sides down and ignore it as an aspect of the truth. you can't write akechi well until you understand that. akechi is always both.

so, does akechi regret? well...it's complicated.

[luvergirl777]

If Not With You - N.S

Pairing | Neteyam Sully x Human Reader

Word Count | 19k, whoops.  

Genre | Acquaintances to lovers? Fluff, they're both dumb and can't drop a hint to save their life, SMUT.

Summary | Neteyam never understood you, and he doesn't think he ever will. Your skin is a different color than his, you're a solid 5 feet shorter than him, your native language is different than his, he could go on forever. He doesn't think he'll ever understand, until he watches you struggle with a knife for 10 minutes and graciously offers his services to you. Suddenly, he's bitten off more than he realizes.

Index | Bickering back and forth, the reader takes every chance she can get to be snarky, Neteyam does too though, purring Neteyam, two idiots in love, smut, creampie, soft!dom Neteyam (service dom kind of), a brief mention of breeding lol. Let me know if I missed anything that should be noted!

You confuse Neteyam in almost all aspects of your being. You’re human, so painfully alien as you run around the high grounds, scurrying to climb around the home tree to the best of your ability, scurrying to provide his grandmother with herbs for the wounded. So painfully human as you sit on the ground, weaving clothes 3 times your size for protection for warriors during time of battle. Painfully human as you cling to Kiri’s ikran (it’s the “least scary” you say) when you join foraging trips, not used to flying. And so painfully human despite having an Avatar sleeping less than 20 feet away, perfectly fine and ready to be used. His father had mentioned something about you not feeling comfortable or welcomed in your avatar body, not taught how to use it properly yet, somehow feeling more accepted as a human. 

You’ve lived your entire life here as a human, mostly. You were given your avatar more recently within the last couple of years, the Avatar taking a while to fully grow and become yours. Still, he’s maybe only seen it once. You wear the clothes, join the songs, dance in the festivals, forage and gather, weave, fish, help the wounded, everything you can physically do, you do. Because of your size, you sometimes struggle with preparing, gathering, and foraging through the forest. It takes you much more effort and time to scale fallen logs and rocks than others. It’s never made any sense, it still doesn’t to him. As you prepare a sturmbeest with some of the others for tonight’s meal, you bewilder him even more. 

“Here, let me help you.” Neteyam offers quickly as he sees you struggling to cut. He's afraid you’re going to slip and hurt yourself, the effort it takes to cut makes your hands shake where they hold your blade. It would be no issue in your avatar body, he’s sure of it but he doesn’t bring it up. After cutting through the hard part, he’s quick to hand you back the small knife to avoid taking over your village duty. “You know if-“ 

“If I was in my Avatar body I’d be able to do it?” You finish his sentence, glancing up at him. While you quickly divert your gaze, he catches the small look of shame you have before you return to the task that requires all your attention. 

“No, no. I was going to say if you need help, you can just call again.” He smiles, shaking his head softly. At this, you can’t help but jokingly scoff at him. 

“But you were thinking about it.” 

“Hmmm, I was not! You have no proof.” 

“That’s how everyone thinks, it’s fine to admit it Neteyam.” You chuckle, resuming your complete focus on the sturmbeest you’re more determined than ever to cut up now thanks to him. “Plus, shouldn’t you be preparing for the meal? Making sure everyone is accounted for and what not.” You're essentially telling him to get back to his tasks. 

“I am, making sure you’re accounted for. The way you’re wielding that knife I'm afraid you’ll go missing.” He teases you, pointing out the amount of effort you’re using to cut through the meat. “Also, if you don’t mind me asking since you brought it up, FYI, why aren’t you in your Avatar?” 

You sigh, and for a brief moment Neteyam thinks he’s overstepped his welcome. “No one really taught me how to use it. I suppose it’s all the same mechanics as controlling myself, but to an extent I don't feel connected. Your father said he felt the same at first, and offered to teach me but got busy with olo'eyktan duties, which is understandable. I haven't felt comfortable enough to ask him, it takes a lot of time that I'm sure he doesn’t have, you know?” 

“I can help you.” Neteyam offers before he has a chance to rethink it. 

“I think you’re also too busy, future olo'eyktan .” You turn your attention to him for a brief moment before resuming. “Plus, it’s not the culture or village life. I've grown up here, I understand that much. It’s the connection, and being in my body. I don't think you’d understand what I mean.” 

“I think you just need practice in a safe area where you don't have to worry. I can be your lookout while you get used to your body, who better than me?” Neteyam’s confidence grows as he offers you his gracious services. His smirk threatens to fall a bit as you glare up at him, but he’s determined to convince you regardless. 

“Your dad.” He interrupts your train of thought with a pained expression, making you giggle. “But I suppose since he’s unavailable, you’re the next best option.”

“Ouch.” He jokes, placing a hand over his heart. “So we'll start tomorrow, little human?” He cheekily adds, beginning to step away from you to return to his head counting job.

He smiles softly as you stick your tongue at him, turning back to finish your job as well. His heart beats hard in his chest, his adrenaline slowly beginning to run off as he checks to make sure everything is going as it should. As he sits next to his mother, the slight panic begins to settle in as he waits for you to join the feast. 

His mother notices the odd, out of place, anxious energy from her son. He’s not usually like this, his demeanor is off. “Neteyam?” She asks, nudging him softly. 

Neteyam faces her with more confidence now, attempting to get his mood back. “Yes, mother?”

“Are you feeling okay?” She reaches out for a brief moment, pressing her hand against his forehead. At this, he smiles softly before pushing her hand away by the wrist. She smiles softly at him, returning to talking to the others. Small cheers erupt as everyone begins to bring in the food, carrying trays and trays of food. He catches a small glimpse of you, following behind the others carrying trays. You’re not carrying anything, preoccupied with cleaning your knife before placing it back on your hip. You settle down behind most of the others, allowing others to get their food before you. He’s extremely observant of you now, he always has been, but it’s even more now. 

Dinner goes by as always, everyone talking, joking, telling stories with one another. You conversate every now and then, happily listening to stories that the other villagers tell you about hunts and raids they have been on. He feels hyper aware of your presence now, watching as a tail jokingly wraps around your waist and knocks you off balance. You smile, jokingly hitting the other people while saying something he can't pick up. Your smile is pretty, so pretty.

It almost feels impossible tearing his eyes away, but eventually he does. He begins to actually engage in his family conversation, listening to his mother and fathers stories. He can't wait for the next day to come, fighting to fall asleep. It feels like hours before he dozes off. 

Neteyam is grabbed by his father before he can actually slip away, a firm hand on his shoulder stopping all of his momentum. “Where are you off to?” His father asks, tugging slightly to turn him around to face him. Neteyam groans in his head, tail flicking slightly behind him. His ears quickly pin down as a reflex. 

“To the labs.” He answers plainly, hoping his father just lets him go with no further questioning. It’s all hopeful thinking, he knows that he will be questioned further. He wants to go, you’re probably waiting for him there now. You’re always on time, never keeping anyone else waiting on you for too long. 

“For what? Are you not coming on watch today?” Jake asks, the grip on his shoulder tightening slightly. Neteyams ears flatten further, tail flicking more aggressively. 

“I promised someone I would help them in the lab.” Neteyam answers. “I will be back later today.”

“Later today?!” Jake asks, releasing him in return for putting his hands on his hips. At the commotion, Neytiri comes out to see what’s going on. Jake gives her the rundown, “He is skipping watch to help the labs.” At this, Neteyam groans softly, the description not at all accurate or reflecting him. 

“Sa’nok,” Neteyam mumbles softly, “I promised,” 

“He hasn’t missed a watch in weeks.” Neytiri points out. “He’s also helping someone, he doesn’t need to come on every watch. Go, Neteyam.”

At this, he bows softly before hightailing it out of the area as quickly as possible. He thanks Eywa for his mother intervening, moving as quickly as possible to get to the labs. Sure enough, you’re waiting for him inside. You seem agitated already, sitting on one of the tables as you swing your legs back and forth. He’s quickly apologizing for keeping you waiting, explaining his situation as quickly as possible. 

“It’s okay, Nete.” You shrug, hopping down and walking over to the pods, known as link units. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m gonna look like a baby deer and complain the entire time.” You whine, trying to convince him otherwise. 

“Are you trying to get me not to, or do you not want to? It sounds like you don’t want to.”

“I’m scared.” You admit, sighing softly. Neteyam offers a solemn expression, encouraging you softly as he pops open the link pod. He helps you climb in, offering a hand as you hop backwards into the memory foam. The beads on your chest cover clink loudly at the momentum, filling the otherwise silent lab. Max enters the lab, late, but still there. You trust him the most to help you link and check all of your vitals, others making you too nervous. 

“I’m going to come and get you once I make sure you link, where is your Avatar?” Neteyam asks as you lay down, holding the top of the pod as he leans down to talk with you. Your breathing is irregular, nerves shaking you to your cure. “I will be there, Y/n, to get you. I’ll be there for every step.” 

“My Avatar is all the way at the high camp.” You tell him, “I’ll wait for you though.” 

“I’ll be there, as fast as possible.” He ensures you, stepping away to let Max do his job to link you to your Avatar. Neteyam fiddles with the oxygen mask around his neck, playing with the strings as he watches you get settled in. As the pod closes, he turns to the screens that show your vitals. Your breathing is increased, but Max explains that’s to be expected when someone hasn’t linked for a while, “Normal nerves,” He calls them. 

“She should be in, I would hurry to make sure she's not freaking out.” And Neteyam does. He doesn’t think he’s ever flown as fast before, his ikran cutting through the air. He gets to high camp as fast as possible, running to the Avatar sleeping area. You’re sitting up, playing with your hands as you wait for him.

“Y/n! Look at you! You look like me.” Neteyam beams happily, running over to you. He helps you up, offering his hand as you stand. You stand easily, but still have a look of uneasiness written across your face. He notices your ears remain down, pinned back with worry. Every now and then, they’ll perk up for the briefest moment before going back. Cute.  “Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel fine, I just think I'm a bit hungry since I haven't been in this body for a while.” You explain, beginning to walk through the Avatar area. Your Avatar reminds him of his siblings, five fingers and toes, eyebrows, etc. You’re walking fine, a bit wobbly on certain areas of uneven terrain, checking a couple of times behind you to make sure he’s close. The camp is busy as always, people running around to fulfill their duties. You navigate the commotion easily though, heading over to the edge of the base. 

“Are you okay to fly?” Neteyam asks, clicking and calling out to his ikran. You nod, shakily, but still saying yes. His ikran is quick to land on the rocks, calming down as Neteyam connects his tswin and readies to mount. He gets on first, reaching to grab your hand and help you sling your leg over. “You can use the saddle and the hold here.” Neteyam speaks, guiding you to sit. He reaches around you, holding your hand and wrapping it around the leather hold. The strong animal flaps his wings underneath you, making your nerves set in as you already begin slipping off to one side.

“You’re okay, It’ll get easier once he’s moving.” He reassures you, using one arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you back upright. A small blush spreads across your face, your bodies extremely close to one another as he’s focused on your well-being. 

“What about you? Are you going to be okay with flying?” You ask, seeing as he has no secure hold. He’s not using the saddle, nor the holds. 

“Yes, I will be okay.” He reassures, holding where his tswin is connected. You trust him, and you trust his ability to fly more than anyone else. Even still, nerves bubble in your chest. “I’ll fly as carefully as possible for you, just hold on, okay?”

“Yes, I will.” You nod, tightening the hold on the leather underneath your palms. Even though you prepared yourself, the shriek that leaves your body as his ikran drops is involuntary. You can hear Neteyam’s faint chuckle in your ear, leaning forward as he guides his ikran. His hair brushes along your shoulder as he leans forward, goosebumps spreading across your arms. His arm tightens the slightest bit around your waist, ensuring you don’t lean too far forward and lose your balance. “Where are we heading?” You yell over your shoulder, the wind loud in your ears. 

“To find you something to eat!” Neteyam calls back, “We’ll be walking around the forest, give you some time to get used to your body without anyone else being around to pressure you.” 

You nod, looking forward to observe where you’re going. Neteyam flies as smoothly as possible for you, communicating to his ikran to stay calm as much as possible. The forest is extremely dense, flying through the trees and hanging vines with expert skill. Neteyam once again chuckles as he sees your grip tighten, both on the leather hold and your legs where they squeeze his ikran for purchase. Landing, the jungle is dense as he hops down. 

You land right after, the grass underneath your feet soft and plush. “Are we finding fruit?” You smile, beginning to trail off from him. Neteyam has to hide the smile, unconnecting as he dismisses his Seze. The grass is so soft underneath your feet, each step cushiony. You’re good at foraging, using all your skills and knowledge you’ve learned over the years. “Here, Nete,” You smile softly, handing him two fruits. Neteyam becomes your Navi basket, arms carrying everything you collect. He's more than happy to follow you around, eventually coaxing you to come sit once you’ve got enough. 

“You need to eat,” Neteyam says, soft but firm as he begins making his way to the river. He finds a soft area of grass, plopping down before softly letting the fruits follow. You join, watching Neteyam carefully as he dips the fruits into the river, cleaning them before handing them over with a big smile. “They’ll taste even better in this body,” He almost promises. 

And they do. They genuinely do.Your taste buds are alive and so heightened, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you eat. “It’s good,” You grin, devouring the fruits that your body so desperately needs, gaining some semblance of energy back. 

“Do you still feel okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s still weird, I know it’s me, but it doesn’t feel like me. Moving is weird, everything is a conscious effort.” You try to explain to him. 

“Does that include your ears being down?” He asks, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he teases softly. “It's cute, don’t get me wrong, but not normal.” 

Once again, you have to consciously pull your ears up like the natural position they’re held at. When you forget, they fall back down. Neteyam pins his ears, signaling to you that you’re doing it again. It works perfectly, your ears perking up once more. 

“See? It’s too hard.” You smile, “We should just go back, say we tried hard.” You plead, making him laugh. You know he’d never, too much determination and pride in his chest to ever allow it. 

“You just need more time in this body, I’m sure of it.” Neteyam answers, shaking his head no as you whine. “We haven’t even got you running yet.” 

At this you groan, flopping backwards on the soft grass as you complain. You quickly get lost in it, the ground so soft, the sun so warm on your skin. It's comforting, much needed vitamin D. 

Despite ALL of your complaining, which was a lot, your body does prove more efficient than your human body. It moves through the terrain easier, scales the rocks and jumps over the fallen trees with no problem, runs as if it was made to do only that. Climbing was nothing you've ever wanted to do until now, and you find yourself playing in the trees like a child again. Climbing as a human is too hard, but this is easy, so it’s FUN. 

“Neteyam! You’re not joining!” You call from treetop, Neteyam watching carefully from the ground. He follows along when you stray too far, watching with careful eyes. It's endearing, how careful he is. 

“It's okay, you’re doing great!” He calls happily. 

You take it as enough confirmation that he’s okay with what’s happening, you having fun while he remains down there. Soon enough, he’s running on the ground to keep up with you. Not that he minds, he has the stamina for it. “Are you having fun!?” He happily calls, splashing through a shallow river as he follows you. 

“Yes! This is amazing,” You answer before beginning to come down. Your hands and feet are sore, unused to the rough nature of aggressive use. You don’t pay much attention, joining Neteyam in the cool water of the river, finding some relief. “It's nice, feels nice.” 

Neteyam fights off the urge to say “I told you so,” instead providing you with encouraging praise. Neteyam wants to teach you everything, he almost itches for it. He's already making a list in his head of everything he could offer you that you don’t know in this body. 

Hunting, riding, flying, swimming, scaling home tree, fighting if you’d like, archery. You know how to weave, arguably better than him, so that’s not something he can claim he taught. Along with foraging and gathering, healing, you also know the dances and songs, and basic craft skills that he can’t claim credit for. But what he can, he will. For today though, he lets you run, and play, and frolic through the grass. He follows you, never losing sight of his surroundings. He'll provide some knowledge here and there, but nothing too crazy. 

You’re exhausted as the sun begins to set, leaning against Neteyams seated body. “We should head back,” You mumble, praying he’ll let you go back this time. He agrees, not wanting to stay out too late for the creatures that come out. 

“We should, we can eat with the people,” He sees another learning opportunity. He stands, leaving you to support your own weight. You watch as he clicks and calls, his ikran coming down soon after. You can feel the exhaustion from the soon-ride, getting up with a grunt. 

“What if I just hold onto you?” It’s a real question, you’re trying to find out if that would be more or less tiring. 

“If you'd like,” He blushes the slightest bit as he faces away from you. Neteyam gets on first, now sitting on the saddle and holding the leather hold. He helps you climb behind him, “You still sure?” He asks, double checking with you since you have no secure holds. Your arms wrap tightly around his waist, torsos flush together. You can hold here, and with your legs. 

“Yes, this is okay,” It feels slightly unsafe compared to the saddle, but it’s less taxing on your body. You also can’t see much over his frame, but you don’t mind. “Thank you, Neteyam, it’s fun,” You talk with him. Your voice vibrates off him, bouncing off his skin. 

“Of course,” He beams even though you can’t see it. You arrive at the home tree soon enough, high in the trees where the ikrans stay. Neteyam leads you to the people for dinner, extremely careful that you don’t lose your balance in the high branches. When you have to hop down a considerable amount, he’s extra careful, going first as an example. He waits each time for you, always ready to catch if he ever needs to. With a relieved breath, he doesn’t need to, and you both make it to dinner without a hitch. 

“Sa’nok, Sempul,” Neteyam greets his family, bringing his hand to his forehead. You immediately follow along, greeting the leaders of your clan. “Would you mind Y/n eating with us tonight?” 

“Oh, no no it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to intrude-“ 

“Of course,” Jake smiles happily, genuinely excited to see you in your Avatar body. His hand lands softly onto your shoulder, examining your body. “How’s it feeling?” 

“Good! Good. It’s a lot of fun,” You smile, giving him a brief overview of your day spent doing nothing but pushing it. He grins, remembering his own days of running with his body for the first time. He tells you the story, beckoning you to sit with his family as he does so. You do, sitting next to Neteyam and Kiri. You know Kiri well, always working together in the healer's hut with her and Tsahìk. 

You know Lo’ak as well, but the two of you don’t talk much besides brief, common interactions. Regardless, you have nothing against him. And Tuk? Tuk is just adorable. You briefly remember gifting her an ikran toy when she was younger, handmade by you. You’re sure she has no recollection of it, much too young. But you don’t mind at all. You all share stories, you mainly listen as you don’t have many that are as exciting as theirs. Neytiri’s intrigue you the most, ears naturally perking up every time she speaks about something. 

Neteyam notices, a small smile spreading across his face as he eats. They flatten when silence takes over the conversation, obviously uncomfortable. The night wraps up like always, but Neteyam is sure to check on not only your Avatar, but also your human body. He makes sure both of your forms get to bed safely before he returns to his family's area, settling in. 

The days turn into weeks of getting used to your body. Neteyam teaches you everything he can, everything that comes to mind. You’re surprisingly good at archery, but guilt kills you when hunting. Even with the knowledge of clean, respectful kills, it’s not your favorite. Riding also comes natural to you, connecting with Pa’li as if you were born native. You become comfortable in your Avatar body, trusting your body’s movements and mind. You run, scale, leap, climb, crawl, swim, everything as if you were born in this body. As you land clean kill after clean kill, and join in on the hunting festivals, Neteyam begins to push you softly in the direction of iknimaya, taming your ikran. 

“Neteyam, it’s scary.” You defend yourself as you prepare meat for tonight’s dinner. Your Avatar body slices through easily, never struggling for more than a couple of moments. “They’re scary.” 

“I know, I know.” He sighs, “But-“ 

“Neteyam, I don’t want to talk about it right now. It’s scary, and I could die.” 

“You can die at any time.“ You send him a strong glare, ending the conversation without another word being shared with each other. You’re done talking about it for tonight, placing the meat on a serving platter. You don’t talk about it for a while, going on about your lessons and training, learning more and more each day. 

You’re out in the forest, a routine day unfolding. Your body and mind feel like yours, Neteyam also begins to wander away from you further and further. If it comes down to it, you can defend yourself to some extent. He's doing just that when a blood curdling scream rips through the forest, catching his attention immediately. His feet are moving faster than his brain, running. 

“NETEYAM!” You scream again, feet remaining planted firm in front of the animal in front of you. Your heartbeat is rapid as you stare down the creature, trying to figure out its next course of action. Stepping a couple of feet back, your fingers immediately begin to reach for the knife that’s secured across your chest. “It’s not moving, Nete. I don’t know what to do.” You speak, more calmly now as the palulukan has made no action to pursue you yet. Still, you unsheathe your knife just in case. It wouldn’t help much if it attacked, but it gives you some peace of mind for the current circumstances. 

“Is it not pursuing?” Neteyam asks, and you can hear his faint footsteps running to get to you in the distance. It’s still in the same place it was, still staring at you. 

“No! It’s just staring at me!” You yell back, trying to hold your ground as much as possible. Your knees shake the slightest bit, which you try to calm. If you turn and run, you could possibly outsmart it. However, as soon as you turn you’re sure it would immediately begin its pursuit on you. Neteyam eventually finds you, keeping his distance as he accesses the situation as much as possible. 

“I know what I’m going to say, you will not like-“ 

“Nete!” 

“I know, I know! But step up to it. Slowly, you’re not pouncing on her, but stepping up.” You want to scream at him, it sounds like a stupid idea. However, you don’t think there’s anyone you trust more with your general well-being than him. “Trust me! If something happens, I'm right behind you, jumping in.” 

“You promise?” You never break your eye contact, but you know Neteyam is staring directly at you. Taking a step, you can hear the faint “Promise” that Neteyam mumbles out softly. Another step comes, and the creature still hasn’t moved a single inch from where you were first confronted by it. Now you’re in attacking distance again, if you reached fully out you would surely touch it on the head. For the first time, it moved. It leans down, and it takes everything in your willpower to not start instinctively booking it at the first sign of movement, “Neteyam?” 

“Tsaheylu, make the bond. She’s offering to you.” Neteyam explains, stepping a bit closer as the tense environment of the situation has lessened. “It’s okay, she’s submitting to you, Y/n.” 

You’re still too afraid to break eye contact to look at Neteyam, your eyes never leaving her as you reach back for your kuru. As soon as the tsaheylu is made, a rush of relief washes over you. “Thank Eywa, thank Eywa,” You mumble, walking to its side and swinging yourself over the animal. Your heartbeat calms down with the animals, and you finally are able to feel her strength and power. She's unlike anything else you've ridden, not a ikran, not pa’li. Once you’re fully bonded, Neteyam feels safe enough to approach. 

“Scary?” He giggles, his hand coming to rest on your calf where it sits on the palulukan’s side. You can feel his thumb run across your skin comfortingly, making you smile as you face away from him. 

“Just a bit, she feels…kind?” You ask, despite him having no idea. “Her thoughts, her power and strength, is kind?” 

“I see, you feel her? You’re getting the hang of this whole, tsaheylu, kuru thing.” He smiles at you, walking behind you and hopping on. Even at the sudden movement, she still doesn’t think of any harm or reaction in a negative manner. You absolutely beam, reaching forward and petting the space at her forehead essentially. “Should I hold on?” Neteyam chuckles behind you. 

“Oh yes, 100%. Strong.” Is all you offer him before beginning to move, just walking but still feeling the absolute power she holds. 

“I trust you.” Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to wrap his arms around your waist. The contact makes your face flush hot, immediately pushing it away from your thoughts as you begin to run, easily jumping and clearing anything in the forest floor. Once again, it’s a completely different ride than you’re used to, you and Neteyam whooping, laughing, and shrieking when you particularly jerk and almost slide off. Slowing to a stop, you find yourself at the edge of the river. You gently rub her shoulder in warning as you slide off, patting her gently. You break the tsaheylu, watching in case she flees. Instead, she stays, drinks water, settles down with the both of you where you sit on the soft grass. 

“What about her family?” You ask Neteyam as if he would know the answer. Neteyam shrugs softly, unsure himself. He has no answer for this, logically. 

“She seems to want you more.” 

“I see,” 

“Y/n, you are more than ready for iknimaya,” 

There’s a loud sigh filling the peace of the forest. You hum, finally giving in. “Fine, Neteyam.” You sigh, watching as the thanator creeps towards you, laying down next to where you’re seated. “I’ll complete my iknimaya.” You nod, finalizing your statement. 

“The next trip is in one week,” 

You nod. You have one week to fully prepare yourself and the people around you. If anything, you’ll retreat at the first sign you can’t do it. Still, you dread the trip. 

You and Neteyam decide not to bring your thanator back, scared of the commotion she may cause. You promise to return to her in the forest in the opening you met at, bidding her goodbye in the meantime. With one final reassuring pet, she runs off. 

The days creep by, anxiety beginning to find its hold over you for your upcoming rite of passage completion. 

“It's my day off from lessons, Neteyam!” You poke your tongue out at him as he peels open your hammock, giving you no other option but to fully wake up. The hammock, suspended on two branches of the home tree, sways hazardously as he kneels down. He's almost, he is, towering over your human form like this, poking and prodding you until you get up. 

“Just because it’s your day off doesn’t mean we can’t hang out. What, I have to make reservations now?” Neteyam jokes, beaming at you as you finally rise, easily jumping onto a nearby branch to get going. Even as you stretch out completely, he’s a solid 3 feet taller than you still. “I was thinking we can just chill today, though. Nothing crazy, no village duties.” 

“Your father let you off village duties?” 

“Well no, but-“ 

“He’s gonna end up hating me.” It’s half joking, half not. You stop walking, instead turning around to face him. “Go back,” You chuckle, pushing Neteyam’s stomach. There’s enough force for little imprints to appear in his skin, but not nearly enough to move the giant. “I'm serious, he’s gonna start blaming me for you being absent all the time.” 

“Hmmm,” Neteyam pretends to think for a moment, tapping his bottom lip. “No.” Before you have a chance to react, Neteyam easily grabs both of your wrists in one palm. With one easy motion, you’re being swung through the air before landing on his back. He chuckles as you smack his shoulder for endangering your life like that, swinging you over the open area of the home tree sleeping area. (Even though you know he’d never drop you, even accidentally.) “C’mon, don’t worry about him. I'll be the one answering anyway.” 

“I’m serious, you’re gonna get yourself in trouble. Like Lo’ak.” You chuckle, and he scoffs at the accusations. 

“Never in a million years,” While the two of you talk, Neteyam easily scales the home tree and arrives at the ikrans in no time at all. “Plus, we can’t get in trouble if he can’t find me.” 

“This is stupid, and you know it.” You smile hard despite all your scolding, a specialness filling your chest that Neteyam would want to spend your days with you, even though it meant trouble for him. Once again, he nonchalantly shakes his head before calling down his ikran, quickly calming her for your sake. 

“Come on, we only have all day.” He jokes, offering his palm for you to climb up. You still hate flying, especially as a human just because of the size and how scary trying to hold on is. (Balance isn’t your thing and Neteyam is basically an expert flyer, aka, crazy ass flyer.)  Still, you suck it up as he takes you to your destination. It's a familiar area, pretty river, pretty flowers, and nearby fruit trees that you’re for sure going to devour when the time comes. 

You beam, hopping down before Neteyam and running over to dip your feet in the clear water. If Neteyams is lucky, you won’t start a water fight the moment he walks over. He approaches with caution, attacked one too many times to not be. Even as no attack ensures, he’s still sure to sit down carefully in case there’s some other sneak attack waiting around the corner. 

Instead, you both sit and watch the water for a bit. It’s a comfortable silence, a shared one at that. “I made you something.” You speak softly, finally breaking the silence, nerves flashing across your face when Neteyam doesn’t look over right away. “Just a small thing, nothing serious.” 

“Sorry, the fish over there- you were saying?” 

“I made you something.” 

“No, no-“ 

“It’s already made, it’d be rude to not accept it.” You chuckle, beginning to dig through your medicinal pouch (That’s supposed to be used for plants and herbs.) Neteyam watches carefully as you pull out a riding visor, carefully braided and woven to very little details. The small wings that make up the visor are in perfect condition, not even a small crack on them. 

“I know you have one, but I feel bad about the wings I broke on it.” You chuckle, handing it over to him. You were once riding with him in your human form and felt uneasy. As you slipped off to one side, you instinctively reached up to him, breaking the fragile protective wings on his visor. As you place it in his hands, your hands linger against one another’s for just a moment too long before you pull away. “And one more thing.” 

“You shouldn’t have-“ 

“I wanted to, Neteyam. In my free time, or days where we couldn’t practice because you had work.” You interrupt him, watching the soft smile slowly spread across his face. “This is your last gift, so don’t get all excited, it’s nothing crazy.” 

“I will get excited, it’s from you.” Neteyam hums softly, watching as you prepare to present your gift. 

“Shut your eyes, don’t open until I say.”

“How is that fair!”

“Warriors honor!! Shut your eyes!” You giggle loudly, standing up next to Neteyam. You’re not much taller than him even when he sits, but neither of you mention it. “No peeking, or else I'm taking it back.” 

“Fineee,” He sighs, finally following along with your shenanigans. Finally, you pull out your gift. It’s a simple necklace in theory, however you modeled its design after traditional warrior necklaces that have gone out of trend in recent years. Small goosebumps spread across Neteyam’s skin as your fingertips graze his skin, jumping slightly as you gently move his kuru. 

“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly apologize, watching as the goosebumps spread across his nape. You didn’t even think before you did it, out of instinct. You finish quickly after that, wanting to put some distance in between you two. “Look in the water.” 

He does, a giant smile spread across his face when he finds your eyes again. “You made this for me?” 

“Of course, who else?” You giggle, reaching out to run your fingers across the beads. Neteyam catches your forearm before you have a chance to move away once more, accidentally jerking you forward into his arms. You land with a huff, Neteyam quickly wrapping you in his embrace. So small compared to him, fitting in his arms like nothing at all. Your skin is so soft against his, his fingertips easily making small indents in your arms where he holds you close. 

“Thank you Y/n.” Neteyam mumbles softly, eyes falling shut as he gets lost in holding you, your scent, your voice. His eyes peel open the slightest bit as you begin to shuffle, preparing to release you as soon as you make a move to. Instead, you’re reaching up, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hug him close. Your knees are resting on his thighs, having to kneel in order to even reach. He can feel your beaded top against his chest, feel your heartbeat if he focuses hard enough on it. He’s sure you can feel his too, now beating a million miles a second. 

“Of course, a warrior necklace for a mighty warrior,” You mumble, almost directly into his ear unintentionally, goosebumps spreading all along his body. He shudders, making you pull back softly, peering at him with a careful look. Suddenly, he’s even more aware of the proximity and you on his lap. 

“Sorry, I just got a chill. Must be because my father is looking for me,” He smiles, covering up for himself. You laugh softly, carefully climbing off and sitting back by the river. You lay down, sun washing over your skin. Neteyam’s eyes soak it all in, not a sight that’s very common. He joins you after a bit, talking about any random topic that comes to mind. 

“Nete, can I ask you something weird?” 

“Anything,” 

“What does your kuru feel like? I'm not sure if it’s different for me, but you seem to be much more sensitive.” You ask softly, scared of overstepping your welcome when it comes to his teaching. 

As he lays next to you, he’s acutely aware of how much larger his frame is. “Hm, I suppose I am sensitive. But only when I want to be, with people I want to be.” He answers, hinting slightly. He's more than aware it’s going to fly over your head. 

“Uhm. When Na’vi chooses their mate, and they, uhm mate, is it the same tsaheylu as our bond with animals? With our mounts?” 

“Hmm, I'm not sure. I haven’t been there yet.” He chuckles softly, but still does his best to answer. “I suppose they are connected in the same way, but you cannot control them as if you are on a mount. You cannot think about going, and expect the other to go. It’s more of a spiritual connection, being completely with the other. I suppose we also feel the other's sensations and emotions, but control is not the aspect of it.” 

“Why are you so sensitive with yours?” 

“It is my nervous system, if I wasn’t something would be seriously wrong.” He answers sarcastically, making the both of you laugh. 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, your eyes closing as you soak up the sun. 

“Neteyam?”

“Hm?”

“I'm scared.” It’s vulnerable and the truth, you’re terrified. “If I fall, will you catch me?” You’re completely dead serious, terrified of falling off the cliff. 

“Of course, I'll fly Seze.” He promises you. You sigh, nodding your head. 

The day slips through your grasp before you can even hold onto it for a second, night quickly approaching. You and Neteyam slowly make your way back to home tree, you much slower, as you purposely get further and further behind. Neteyam knows, and he could definitely guess why you’re acting so strange. He doesn’t push you, just slows down his pace tenfold to allow you to catch up and even pass him. Ever so observant, he watches as your fists clench tight as your feet come to a gradual stop. 

“Neteyam, spend tonight with me.” You rush, quickly. You quickly turn around to peer up at him, catching the small smile that’s already pulling at the corners of his mouth. Your fists are still clenched as you wait for his response to your borderline demand. 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re asking, demanding the future Olo'eyktan around?” Neteyam boasts, jokingly puffing out his chest before he’s dropping into a squat to be more eye-level with your form. “Y/n?” 

You almost knock him off balance as you ambush him, smaller body crashing against his as your arms fly around his neck. He regains his composure just as quickly, arms wrapping around you. “I'm scared.” You mumble against his ear, goosebumps shooting down his spine. “Just in case something happens.” You continue to mumble, borderline against his skin. “I want to spend tonight with you.” Your arms never loosen their hold, not giving him much leeway. 

“Nothing will happen, Y/n.” He reassures you, easily picking up both of your body weight as he stands. He doesn’t pry you away, instead he wraps his arms around your torso as he easily carries you through the branches. “I promise, you will do amazing.” He fights to reassure you, lips brushing against your ear. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do, I do.” He giggles softly, finally arriving at the sleeping hammocks after what feels like forever. (The close proximity is going straight to his head.) “You need rest though, my mighty warrior.” Neteyam gives you a wide grin as you pull away, smiling back softly at him. “I won’t leave you, if that’s what you want.'' He carefully maneuvers your weight into one arm, the other assisting him as he climbs into the hammock. Laying on his back, a content sigh slips through your lips as you rest on his chest. 

“Neteyam, if I fail, what will you do?” You mumble, avoiding his gaze as your head never lifts as you speak to him. 

“I will catch you.” He answers back almost immediately, not missing a single beat. It makes you smile, reassures you, calms your nerves just the slightest bit as he promises. 

“Neteyam?”

“You're supposed to shut your eyes, syulang.” He teases as you continue your questioning. 

“Can we go to the labs?” It's now Neteyam’s turn to ask questions, you never want to be in the lab. Never once have you asked to go there. 

“Huh?”

“My mask is annoying, I'm getting used to not having it on.” Okay, he supposes that makes sense. Eases his nerves that you’re falling into your more human side than that of the culture and of the people. He lets out a puff of air he didn’t realize he was holding, climbing onto his feet carefully with you still in his arms. He wobbles like an idiot climbing out, regaining his balance once his feet hit the tree branch. 

As always, Neteyam moves swiftly despite your weight remaining fixed to his back. You're tired, slowly slipping further and further down, making it hard for him to move as easily. “Y/n, you’re killing me,” Neteyam chuckles softly, reaching behind him to pull you up his back. He easily drops you onto his shoulders, continuing the fast pace he was previously at. He’s dumb, he definitely did not think this one through. Each movement has your legs clenching tightly, scared to fall from so high up. He can feel your warmth, so close. Each time you shuffle, he can smell you, so close it’s making him dizzy. Mustering all his strength up, he pushes on.

He thanks Eywa under his breath when he sets you down, still feeling the warmth on his shoulders where you once were. He hums softly as he grabs a mask, fiddling with the annoying thing as he places it over his head. He watches as you happily rip off your mask, rubbing at the red lines it left behind on your face. The lab is empty, everyone out for the night, likely sleeping up at high camp with the Avatar lab. Neteyam follows you loosely as you wander around, eventually slipping into a room. It’s small, for Neteyam. However, for you, the bed is giant as you plop dead in the middle of it. 

“Neteyammm,” You sing-song to him, beckoning him over on the small bed. He curls and concorts, knees coming up as you lay almost encircled by him. Your face is engulfed in a smile, hands reaching up to play with his hair. “Maybe after I become a warrior I’ll rebraid your hair. You’ve been so busy.” You mumble softly, continuing to play softly with it. Your fingers brush over his kuru, a shudder running down his spine before he can stop it. You’re so close, smell so good, so warm, it makes him 100% more sensitive, he thinks. “Sorry, sorry,” Your hands retract just as fast as his reaction happened. 

“No, no, it’s okay.” He reacts, stopping your hand before it has the chance to fully leave his head. “It’s okay, it’s not bad. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re curious, it’s okay.” 

“Neteyam,”

“It’s okay,” He smiles softly, gently placing your hand back where it once was. He encourages you to do whatever you’d like, bending to your every will. He would, he does. Another shudder runs down his spine when your little hands graze over it once more, goosebumps spreading along his skin. He can see the apprehension on your face, uncertainty. “It doesn’t hurt, syulang. It’s just sensitive, a new feeling.” He hums, pressing his face into your neck, hiding the blush that begins to spread across his face and ears. 

You fill up his senses entirely, and he likes it. He wants you to. He bites back a softly whimper when your fingers trail down the braid, nose flat against your skin as he inhales. He can feel you warm up, feel himself warm up as well. His kuru seeks out your touch almost, wrapping around your fingers before you even realize it. Trying to make some form of tsaheylu, likely. Your fingers twitch slightly through the exposed part of his nerves, gaining confidence as you brush through them carefully, watching for any pained noises. Neteyam cant bite back the whimper when you carefully wrap your fingers around it, entangling back. He pitifully moans against your skin, embarrassment coursing through his veins as he refuses to meet your eyes. 

“You need to rest, mighty.” Neyetam hums against your skin, afraid if he glances into your eyes now it would be too much for him, he’d give in. Another shiver runs, this time just from the thought of you, your skin, the proximity of your bodies as he curls around your form on the bed. “Let’s rest for tomorrow.” He can feel you nod, carefully moving your hands away from his kuru. He’s about to mourn the loss of contact, maybe even complain, before you’re running your fingers with his braids, holding his head close. Everything is good. 

You thank Eywa for the blessing that makes Neteyam not look at you, you’d surely be read like a book. Face red, lips bitten bright red, slick with saliva. Thank Eywa. 

You wake up with dread, genuine dread. Terror racks your body the whole trip. Not at the thought of scaling the mountain, or climbing the vines. At the thought of failing. Neteyam has so much faith in you, you don’t know what you’d do if you were to fail. You can almost feel the disappointment rolling from him. Shaking the thought from your head, you continue climbing the hard rock, pulling yourself out of autopilot. Neteyam whoops every now and then, encouraging you and the other group of warriors you’ve traveled with. It's nice, knowing he’s close, but terrifying at the same time. 

As you come to the opening of the cave, just before you cross over, your heart drops. Seze comes into your view, landing and allowing Neteyam off. 

He presses his fingers to his forehead, greeting everyone in the surrounding area. You all follow along, greeting your future leader. “I will not be watching, I'll be on lookout. Just in case.” He announces to the group, watching as the dread still doesn’t leave your face. He announces you’ll go last, trying to make you feel better. It fails, miserably. But you don’t tell him. 

When it’s finally your turn, he comes back to the mountain, beginning to carefully walk you underneath the waterfall. People have failed today, scurrying back underneath the water in a desperate attempt to miss the near-death attack. They all come back ashamed, disappointed, and you’ve done your best to reassure them. Of course, some also succeeded, flying off with loud cheers and chants cheering them on. 

“Neteyam, if I think I’m going to die, I am going back.” It’s dead serious, eyes dead serious, as you stare back at him. You’re scared, and he knows it, but you’re trying desperately to hide it all. “I don’t want you to be disappointed, but I'm scared.” 

“I understand,” Neteyam nods, “I am not going further, I have to get back to Seze. I will be close,” You know he will, you know it. Carefully inching closer, most of the ikrans are already scattered, scared off by ten other hunters. The entire process is a blur, fear and adrenaline taking over your mind. You can barely remember what happened as you force your tsaheylu to connect, terrified pants calming out. 

You briefly hear Neteyam’s chants fill your ears, hands pressing against your face in excitement. “What happened?” It's a genuine question. You can’t remember. 

“Once you captured it, it did not fight. You didn’t have to lock it down.” He answers, a crazy look coming over his face as if he’s realizing something. As the adrenaline begins to mellow out, your brain begins working again. 

“I have to fly, Neteyam move,” You demand, his hands still carefully holding your head in his palms as he forces you to look at him. 

“Yes, yes. Fly, I’ll follow.” He smiles, ducking out of the way. He can hear the shriek that leaves your lips as you take off, the sound bouncing off the nearby rock. His feet are sprinting as quickly as possible over the wet rock, finding Seze and taking off just as quickly to search for you. You’re doing decent, still shaky, but alive when he finds you. You grieve the absence of a proper saddle and hold, Neteyam more than aware as he laughs at you. 

“IT'S HARD!” You scream over the wind, voice just barely making its way to his ears. 

“YOU DID IT!” He’s screaming back, a giant smile plastered across his face. The hours tick by quicker than he would’ve liked, signaling for you to follow as he leads you back to home tree. He supposes it’s because you went last, the time seemingly running past him. As you land in the top branches of the home tree, your unsteady legs buckle as you make contact with the mossy branch, toppling down. 

“I’m tired,” Is all you offer, disconnecting your kuru as you allow your ikran to perch wherever she pleases. Neteyam lets out a hearty laugh as he reaches to pick you back up. 

“You did it, I told you you were ready,” He smiles, the smile taking up his entire face. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his embrace in a flurry. Your legs still feel weak, but you muster enough strength to wrap your arms back around him. “Come, we must meet with the others for dinner, announce it to the clan,” He blurts, excitement running through his veins for you. A giant smile spreads across your face as you agree, following him down with interlocked pinkies. 

As you make it down, Neteyam lets out a loud whoop, announcing your success. Cheers and chants follow, everyone beginning to congratulate and praise you. Your official ceremony will be held in a week, commemorating and celebrating your achievement of having your place within the people. Neteyam is busy telling everyone the story, voice bubbling with excitement, growing in volume as he gets to the good parts. You beam beside him, listening. You couldn’t tell it anyway, you partially blanked. 

Some of the elder members of the clan have a look you can’t quite decipher, unsure of what it means. You choose not to ask, scared of getting an answer you don’t actually want. For once, you choose ignorance. 

Eventually the commotion begins to die down, everyone beginning to eat as usual. Neteyam practically begs you to eat with them as always, but Neytiri has the same look that so many others have given you. “Thank you, Nete, but I’m really worn out,” You offer softly, placing your hand on his bicep to try and calm him. He offers you a sad, kicked puppy look, but it didn’t work. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You smile, beginning to make your way back to the hammocks. 

“Child,'' Neytiri speaks softly once you depart, swooping Neteyam away for a brief moment. He knows he’s going to get some sort of lecture, good or bad, so he follows without saying another word. “She is special, no?” She asks, plain and simple. They both know the answer to this, Neteyam’s ears pinning in worry. 

“…No.” Fear leads him as he lies. 

“Neteyam.” It is kind but firm. 

“She has something.” Is all he offers. He doesn’t know what it really is, but he knows it’s something. “Does that matter?” He avoids her gaze in worry. 

“No, no. It doesn't matter. But it's something to be noted and watched, you know that.” She speaks, gently placing her hands on his shoulders. “Is she something special…to you?” She asks delicately, placing a careful hand over his heart as she asks. 

“I'm…not sure.” He answers honestly. 

Neytiri nods. She also knows the answer to that question, but figured she’d ask anyway. “Come, my child, let’s eat.” She smiles warmly, leading him back. He earns a lot of “ouuuus” from his siblings when he gets back, assuming he got in trouble. 

He hisses softly, resuming his natural place with his family as he begins eating. 

The days once again fly by before he can even think too long about it, a sturmbeest hunt following just days after your iknimaya. 

“Come with us, Y/n,” Neteyam pleads alongside Lo’ak, begging you to come to the hunt with them. Your small human frame is still wiping the sleep from your eyes, glaring up at him as you devour your fruit. You pop your mask back on as you chew, the mask becoming more and more frustrating as you grow accustomed to your Avatar body. 

“I can't hunt and fly at the same time, I'm not good at flying yet.” You answer genuinely, allowing your neck to relax as you look down, no longer peering up. 

“You can be our lookout,” Lo’ak offers, also wanting you desperately to come along. He knows he hasn’t talked to you much, and as he watches his brother fall head over heels for you, he’s determined to grow closer. 

You huff loudly, eyes still all squinty from sleep. You struggle up to your feet, the two blue boys giant next to you. “I'll meet you guys by the ikrans,” You whine, beginning to lazily make your way to the labs for link. 

“Yay yay yay!” Lo’ak and Neteyam chant, easily lifting you and absolutely spriting you to the labs. You scream and laugh, body jostled around as if you weighed absolutely nothing to them. Your ribs hurt from laughing as they arrive at the shack, placing you down in front of the front door. They usher you inside. 

“We’ll be at the tree,” Neteyam smiles, waving as you step inside. They both take off before the door even closes all the way. You can only laugh as you imagine them going crazy, sprinting up the tree branches. Just as you imagined, when you finally get up there, both boys are panting and disheveled, bowed over at the hips as they fight for air. 

“Skxawngs,” You laugh wildly, a giant smile on your face as you call your ikran down. She’s calm as you connect, quickly rising and falling backwards as you wait for the other two. 

The hunt goes smoothly as possible. Some shots are always missed, some Navi and their pa’li are always knocked over, some sturmbeests are wounded but not killed, always a tragedy. You watch Neteyam and Lo’ak very closely, terrified that one of them was going to get themselves in some sort of trouble or hurt. Neteyam lands a hit on one, the arrow not deep enough to kill the giant male just get. You’re a considerable distance ahead, flying further in front. 

“Y/N, SHOOT! THE BIG MALE!” His voice screams to you, wanting to put the animal down with as little pain as possible. You let out an annoyed growl as you draw your bow as quickly as possible, using the wind to whip back as quickly as possible. Your arrow is aimed and shot quickly, the male about to run past where you’re flying, charging wildly. Your arrow hits on the same area, successfully knocking the prize winner down. 

You, Neteyam, and Lo’ak cheer loudly, flying quickly next to one another as the adrenaline courses through your veins. Lo’ak screams in english, Neteyam in Navi, and you in a weird mix of the two. You're met by the people with loud calls and cheers, celebration soon to be underway as you bring in the prize kills. 

“Y/n, come to the ceremony with me tonight.” Neteyam calls you softly as you feed your ikran, tending carefully to her. He watches as you loosen the saddle and reins, allowing your ikran to have more ability and flexibility while you’re not riding. 

“The ceremony, with you? Are you courting me?” You chuckle softly. You know the culture, he knows you know the culture. Even at your accusation, the both of you giggle and brush it aside. 

“You? Of course not. I'm giving you the gracious opportunity to take your Avatar to a ceremony, and just so happen to go with the clan leader's son.” 

“Uhhhh huh.” 

“Seriously, you’d be missing out if you don’t.” 

“Fine, I suppose I will.” 

The night is hectic, fermented juice being passed around like no one’s business, dance, games, and food all being shared among the clans members. You’re a topic of conversation, everyone inquiring about your appearance in your Avatar and not how you normally show up. Even still, it’s a good time. Everything goes generally as planned, until Tarsen approaches you later in the night, smooth voice talking with you. 

He's sweet, and you suppose he’s just as accomplished as Neteyam in terms of earning their place within the clan. You know he’s respectful and hardworking, but besides that you’ve never really talked to him. 

“You look very beautiful tonight.” A giant smile spreads across your face before you even have a chance to stop it fully. “Please, allow me to get a drink with you.” You have no chance in hell, nodding like an idiot as he takes your hand to help you up off your seat. The drinks are strong, making you warm in seconds flat. 

“How is the ceremony going for you, Tarsem?” You smile softly, turning to listen to his answer. He steps a bit closer as he talks to you, leaning forward to tell you about his day in your ear. There’s small goosebumps spreading across your arms from the proximity, listening nevertheless to him. It takes a lot of effort to not jump when his tail comes to wrap around your waist, a classic courting gesture. He's bragging to you about his kill in the hunt, and your mind begins to wander to yours and Neteyam’s joint kill. 

“Y/n?” You turn to find the voice, losing your balance temporarily as you search. “Can I have this dance?” Neteyam appears out of nowhere, standing up straighter and broad in front of you. 

“Nete! Of course!” Once again, your balance falters as you step towards him. You quickly mumble a string of apologies to Tarsem, promising to come back as you excuse yourself from him. Neteyam’s chest rumbles as you fall towards him, finally breaking free of Tarsem’s hold on your waist. “Let's go!” 

He waits until you get away from the table to speak once again, “Are you drunk? You’ve been drinking?” 

“Yes, well no. Tarsem wanted to drink with me, but that’s it.” You struggle, beginning to make your way over to the clan's traditional dance line. Your hand reaches for Neteyam, pulling him along to follow. He stands in place, solid as a rock despite your pleading. Your costume makes soft clicking sounds as the beads and feathers move, a pretty hanging assortment that Neteyam had gifted you. Before arriving at the ceremony, you realized you had no ceremony outfits for your Avatar, only for your human body. It sits on your shoulders, connecting at your wrists to almost resemble wings hanging down. 

“And his tail?” His jaw is clenched hard. 

“Neteyam? What’s wrong?” You finally give up trying to pull him to the dance, it’s clear he doesn’t actually care to dance at this moment. There's a small frown on your face that Neteyam threatens to crumble under. He pulls his composure together, reaching out and pulling you close by your elbow. 

“He was courting after you, and you let him.” Neteyam mumbles, eyes searching yours for answers. 

“I didn't think you’d mind…you said we were just going to give me a chance to use my Avatar, Nete.” You sigh, confusion evident. “You’re confusing me, really badly. I don't understand why you’re upset. Please, can we just dance??” 

Neteyam once again doesn’t budge. Even in your Avatar body, his strength easily overpowers yours and he’s suddenly an unmoving force. The two of you are away from the crowd, able to talk more freely and hide from any peering eyes. “Would you have continued?” Neteyam grits, unable to hold eye contact with you as he peers down. 

“What do you mean? What are you accusing me of?” 

“Would you have mated?” 

“Neteyam! What are you on about?” You slur your speech, balance losing temporarily as you fall forward into him. He catches you despite technically being upset. “I’m not mating with anybody, the person I want doesn't want me. He told me so today,” You drunkenly babble, arms wrapping around his neck as you hold yourself up. “Told me he won’t go to the ceremony with me in that way, doesn’t want to court me.” Your costume tangles with him as his arms come to wrap around your waist, the proximity going to his head. 

“He told you that, huh?” Neteyam feels his face heat, knowing who you’re talking about. You lift slightly onto your tiptoes, pushing yourself closer against his chest. “I think you should tell him that.” 

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” Your words came out mumbled, “He’s a really busy guy, you know? Don’t wanna be an inconvenience.” You continue, and Neteyam can feel his heart contract a bit. 

“You’re not an inconvenience.” 

“Hmmm,” You hum, goosebumps sprouting against his skin. “Can we dance, Nete. Please?” You ask again, beginning to untangle yourself from him. He mourns the loss of closeness, holding tight to your hand in his. Your face is bright pink, but you still lock eyes with him. “Come, let’s dance in the ceremony,” You softly pull, this time Neteyam moves with, giving in. The two of you dance and sing, play some of the games, share food as you begin to settle down for the night. You’re holding the leaf on your lap, you and Neteyam both picking from it here and there. 

Unknown to you, Tarsem is making his way over, ready to ask about your promise of returning to him. Neteyam locks eyes, giving him a heavy glare that’s almost unmistakable even in an inebriated state. To solidify his claim, he’s moving closer to you, legs now pressed together, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. He gets the message loud and clear, turning around and beginning to make his way elsewhere. 

“Nete, I’m tired,” You call his attention back without realizing, head falling onto his shoulder. “Can I go back to home tree? You can stay if you need to, future Olo'eyktan,” You smile, beginning to stand as you hand him the leaf in case he’s sticking around. “I’ll see you for our lessons, yeah?” 

“I’ll walk you back,” He’s quick to offer, wanting to make sure you get back safely, and by yourself. Neteyam does as promised, safely walking you back to home tree to allow your Avatar to rest. He thinks hard, would your human body remember what you said and did? Are you going to steer clear of him now? You’re beyond wobbly, scaring Neteyam half to death as you wobble side to side on the tree branches. Your body has enough muscle memory to easily guide you to the hammock, still, Neteyam gasps hard as you freely jump into an open one. “Oh Eywa! Y/n!” He scolds. 

You laugh softly, peering up at him. “Goodnight, Nete. Get back safe okay?” You lazily smile, gently pulling at the edge of the leaf to cover yourself. You’re out quickly, body exhausted. Neteyam is now racing on foot to the lab to check on human you. 

“Y/n?” He calls as he walks through the lab, struggling with the mask as he holds it. 

“Neteyam? You should probably get back to the ceremony,” You mumble, stretching your legs and arms out. He smiles softly as the beads clink together, “People are probably waiting on you.” 

“Yeah, but you should get some rest. I wanted to make sure you’re okay, you drank a lot.” 

“I suppose it doesn’t cross over, that’d be weird if it did. I don’t remember much though,” You smile, a bit embarrassed that you can’t remember the ceremony that Neteyam took you to. 

“I see, I see.” He nods, “Here, I’ll run you up to home tree so you can get some sleep.” Neteyam smiles as he offers, turning around and squatting to offer his back. You climb on, wrapping your legs around his torso as much as possible given his size. Neteyam takes you there easily, jumping, climbing, and scaling the tree with little to no difference with you on him. He's careful as he climbs into a leaf, allowing you to climb off of his back. You laugh as he wobbles in it as he tries to get up around you. 

“Careful, you’ll knock both of us out,” You smile, grabbing his arm where he’s trying to push himself up without leaning too far to one side. He can only balance with both arms, awkwardly placed on either side of your head, your smaller frame engulfed by his much bigger one. 

Neteyam makes the mistake of looking, his body easily covering yours entirely, your face bright red as you bite on your lips, avoiding eye contact. Your small hand grips hard as you balance yourself, not helping. He's so close he can practically smell the heat rolling off of you. “Sorry, Sorry! I’m just, this is, it’s fragile,” He stutters, his own face warming. He wants to stay here, like this, with you. He's sure you can see the blush on his ears, stuttering like an idiot when he accidentally looks in between both of your bodies. But he can’t, so he reluctantly climbs away, barely making it to the tree branch. “I’ll see you soon,” He grits out, closing the hammock for you. 

Neteyam knows he should go back to the ceremony, make his rounds as the chief's son. But he has a bigger issue at hand, said issue? In between his legs. 

Your’s and the other warrior’s ceremony is quick to come, your body being painted traditionally for it. White paint is drug along your torso and face, finger paths making pretty even lines. You begged Kiri to help you, knowing she’d be the most careful and intricate. As she drags her fingers over your lips, the both of you giggle wildly. Tuk, who joined the both of you for fun, stares at you with stars in her eyes. 

“Y/n, I have a gift for you,” Kiri speaks, springing up and running off. She comes back quickly. She comes back with a decently sized box. “It’s for tonight.” 

Your heart aches as you open it, a giant smile spread across your face. “You didn’t have to-“ 

“It's not just from me.” 

Its beautiful ceremonial pieces, bottoms, a top, accessories galore, and a few pieces to decorate your hair with. “Most were woven and made by Neteyam,” Kiri almost whispers, a knowing smile spread across her face at the confession. 

“I see…” You smile, trying to avoid the blush that threatens to come across you. Kiri is very receptive, even more so to you since she’s known you for so long. “They’re beautiful, I’ll be sure to talk to him and thank him later tonight,” 

Kiri smiles, “I'm sure he’d like that a lot.” She nods, climbing to her feet. She offers her hands, helping you up. “Me and Tuk will leave you to get ready,” 

You thank her repeatedly as she leaves. You kiss the top of Tuk’s head goodbye when she complains about leaving, promising her you’ll see her later. Getting changed makes your stomach flip wildly, nerves beginning to set in for the night. Everyone is busy with their preparations, running wildly around the tree. Dressed and painted, you make your way down. 

Neteyam spots you immediately, having to run off to help with preparations. His mind is filled with you, just the brief glimpse he caught. He tells himself to distance himself, too scared that once he’s in your grasp he won’t be able to break himself away. He watches the entire night, eyes never once leaving your frame. Hours fly by like minutes, too entranced in the way you dance, speak, sing, smile, interact, everything about you. You can feel his stare, burning into your skin. He watches as you join in the dances, accept praise and congratulations, turn down courting and mate offers left and right. His eyes never leave once. 

“Sa’nu,” Neteyam soft voice catches Neytiri’s attention, quickly walking off with him. Far enough away from everyone else, Neteyam speaks freely. “I am going to ask Y/n to be my mate tonight.” His voice is firm and strong. He's not asking in the slightest, he is telling her. 

Neytiri nods softly, fighting the smile that pulls at the corner of her lips. “She will make a good mate for you, my eldest.” He smiles, reaching to softly cup his face. 

Neteyam nods, “I know.” The two of them walk back to the party, Neteyam standing much stronger, more confident as he searches for you once again. 

“Syulang,” Neteyam calls, watching as your head immediately turns towards him. His heart beats hard. “Are you having fun?” He asks softly when you make your way over, a glow radiating off of you. 

“Yes, I am. Are you having fun?” You smile back, sitting with him on one of the logs. 

“Yes, I am.” He nods. 

“Watching me? Because I haven't seen you do much else,” You tease softly, leaning forward towards him as you speak. It’s the truth, he hasn’t done much else. 

“Yes, making sure you’re safe,” He nods, coming up with an excuse that’s semi-believable. 

“My warrior, forever and always being my lookout,” You grin at him, thinking about when he first promised to be your extra set of eyes, keeping you out of harm's reach. A couple of braids fall from behind his ear as he shuffles slightly. Before you’re thinking, you reach forward, gently tucking them behind his ear. 

The grin on his face is irreplaceable, his hand gently reaching for your wrist before you can pull away. He softly pulls your hand down, kissing the pads of your fingers softly. “Y/n? I want to show you something, whenever you’re ready to go.” He gently releases your wrist after pressing another kiss to your pinky, your extra finger that makes you different. 

Your mind goes numb, essentially, eyes widening as you stare at the man in front of you. “Ye-yes. I was going to get going soon anyway,” You mumble, not entirely the truth but you digress. He grins, a love-sick grin as he’s the first to get up. He offers his palm, smiling even more when you take it. 

“You are one of the people now, physically and spiritually now.” Neteyam begins as the two of you run through the forest, taking turns passing one another in brief sprints. The two of you laugh like dummies, leaping and hopping over logs. “Eywa has heard you, acknowledged you.” He continues, slowing his pace when he approaches his destination. It's the tree of voices, a place you know from stories and pictures. You’ve never visited yourself, never being able to connect or truly listen. “These trees are our people. We connect with them through here, hear their voices, listen to their stories.” Neteyam speaks softly as he walks through the trees. “It is one of our most sacred places. It is our memories, our history.” 

Neteyam’s voice is honey to your ears, watching his actions closely. His movements stop, reaching to gather a few of the branches and bringing them to himself. Reaching for his braid, he connects his tswin. You watch him, unsure of if you should follow. Neteyam smiles, nodding towards you to follow when you don’t immediately mirror him. You follow, connecting. It’s different than anything else, your pupils grow giant, listening to the voices, stories, songs. Goosebumps grow all along your body, eyes falling closed as you listen to the advice of mothers passed down for thousands of generations. 

“Y/n,” Neteyam speaks softly, hands gently taking your elbows in his hold. Your eyes peel open, gently pulling your kuru away. “I have a gift for you,” 

“Neteyam-“ 

“It’s already made.” He uses your own logic against you from the past. You giggle softly, following him to the soft grass when he sits. He tenderly presents a necklace in his palms, holding it with both hands as he presents it to you. “It’s for you, marking our training together.” Neteyam explains nervously, feeling his tail flick wildly behind him in anxiety. 

“You shouldn’t have, you already made me my outfit Nete.” Your voice grows soft as you scooch closer to him, leaning in to examine the necklace in his hands. 

“This is the first day, where we spent all day in the forest. This is when you learned archery, your first clean kill, bonding with Midnight, your iknimaya, your kill in the sturmbeest festival, your celebration tonight.” He explains each of the beads, face warming as you continue to draw closer to one another. There's one remaining, a soft pink stone. 

“Which is this one?” You ask, reaching and pointing. 

“This one…is to represent tonight,” Neteyam mumbles, extremely soft. Your eyes catch one another’s for a brief moment, breaking off when you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. “The trees, the people, us.” 

“Neteyam, it’s too sweet,” Your voice is smooth and heavenly to him, hands holding his bicep firmly. You then release him, turning your back so he can place it onto you. His touch makes goosebumps spread anywhere they brush, a shudder going down your spine. Your fingers reach to feel it, “It’s perfect, Nete,” You mumble as you turn back and face him. Your hands find his shoulders naturally, eyes connecting. 

“I see you, Y/n.” He mumbles, hands once again falling to hold your arms where they rest on him. 

“Neteyam, you see me, I see you.” You mumble softly, your hands gently cupping his face in your palms as you shuffle closer to where he’s kneeled. He smiles, leaning his head into your hold and almost nuzzling into you. There's a rumble in his chest, a purr as you always call it, as he feels so completely intent in your hold. He always denies purring with a passion when anyone else brings it up, but you, sure, he’d purr for you. “Nete, I see you.” You speak again, sitting so close that your knees are between one another. 

“You’ve grown up here, you know the culture. After coming of age, all of the people are permitted to make their bow or weapon, and find their mate if they wish to." Neteyam speaks softly to you, pressing his forehead to yours. “You may do this as you wish, with whoever you wish.” Neteyam’s chest tightens as his mind goes to Tarsem. 

“With whoever I wish?” You ask softly, pulling your head back slightly. Neteyam looks confused, eyes squinting in confusion at your move. “What are the conditions of, “whoever?” I feel that some people are definitely off limits.”

“Who is off limits to you?” Neteyam mumbles, his hands dropping down from your elbows to the ground behind him, holding his torso up. 

“Hmmmm,” You pretend to think for a couple of moments, tapping your chin as Neteyam makes himself comfortable, now sitting as he rests on his palms. He looks especially handsome, the smallest look of smugness on his face. He’s almost beckoning you closer, inviting you onto his lap as he sprawls out in front of you. “Olo'eyktan, he’s definitely off limits. Hmmm, I think the future Olo'eyktan is also off limits.” 

“Yeah? Did he tell you that it’s off limits?” His confidence grows even more, chest booming. Finally, he reaches forward, hands finding your waist and finally pulling you close once more. Your knees are on either side of his thighs, hovering over his lap. “I think that the future Olo'eyktan has already chosen his mate though, a very special person, someone who he didn’t think he’d be with right now.” Neteyam speaks gently as he continues to pull you close, allowing you to sit on his lap. 

“So if he’s already chosen his mate, then he IS off limits.” You continue the game you’re playing, a giant smile spread across your face as your thumb rubs along his cheek. Finally caving in, you speak again “You really think the future Olo'eyktan would want to be with me? A little human?” You giggle like a school girl gossiping, pretending that you weren’t talking directly to him. 

“I think he would, definitely. In fact, I know he would.” Neteyam speaks, leaning forward and gently connecting your lips. You pause for a moment to relish in the moment, soft lips pressed against one another, breathing mixing together. You’re the first to move, sliding your lips against his. You can feel the rumbling growing in Neteyam’s chest, the purring that you love so much coming out. Moving closer, your chests press flush together, his arms wrapping around your back. 

The kiss consumes you, lights your skin on fire as his palms trail along your skin. It feels like your oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, Neteyam greedily taking it as he kisses you harder. Your hands find the back of his head, pulling him closer if it’s even possible at this point. You break the kiss, panting heavily as you fight to fill your lungs with air. 

“Nete, I can't. I can't be Tsahìk, I cannot lead the people.” You pull away, hands still cupping his face. Neteyam presses his cheek into your hold, a gentle smile plastered across his face. Your heart aches, thumbs gently rubbing across his cheeks. “You should look elsewhere-“

“You have a bond with Eywa, I see her with you all the time. You and the forest, her children, your mount, they are all special. You can. You have helped my grandmother from the day she allowed you to, you know how to heal and help. But if you don’t wish to, we will be simple weavers together-“ 

“Don’t.” Your voice cuts him off.

“Okay, hunters,”

“Neteyam!” 

“Songwriters?” 

“You have worked your whole life training, ensuring your place as leader. You will likely take over in just a few years time. I will not let you throw it away for me.” 

“I don't want to lead the people, if not with you.” He answers completely honestly, leaning forward to press your forehead together. “That life is not worth living.” His eyes fall closed as he relishes the feeling of your hold, holding him so closely, so delicately. “It is not the life I want. I don’t want to lead if you’re not by my side.” 

“Only if you want to, no pressure,” Neteyam mumbles against your lips. One of his palms leaves your skin, instead beginning to reach behind him for his tswin. He pulls it over his shoulder, resting it there and waiting for your reaction. Reaching back for yours, it’s a choice you’ve already made long before now. “Y/n, I see you.” Neteyam mumbles, trailing down his braid and watching as you mirror him. “I see you, I see every form of you, every body, my sweet mate.'' Connecting your kuru’s sends electricity down your spine, both of your pupils dilating as the connection is sealed, releasing your kurus. 

“Neteyam,” You mumble, hands immediately wrapping themselves around him and pulling him as close as possible. Your breathing is heavy, chest heaving against his as you stare into his eyes, both of your pupils giant. Your lips crash together, body seated securely on Neteyam’s lap as he pulls you close. “I need you, haaa fuck, I need you Neteyam.” You whine softly against his lips, pulling roughly on the ties around his hips. 

“I know, paskalin, I know.” Neteyam mumbles against your lips, reaching down to pull your hands back up. He places a soft kiss on your palm, “Relax, pretty. Wanna make you feel good, please you.” Neteyam speaks, hands wrapping around to hold your back. He's extremely strong, pushing both of your weights up to gently place you on your back. 

“Neteyam,” You whine, reaching back to try to pull at his ties. He easily dodges your prying fingers, pinning your hands to the soft moss underneath you. 

“Patience, Y/n,” He speaks softly but firm, “Want to do it right, want to mate you right,” He mumbles, beginning to kiss along your skin. An involuntarily whimper leaves when he makes his way down your neck, slowly getting closer and closer to where you need his touch. You pull softly on his grip, unable to break it. “Make you feel good, so you never want anyone else,”

“I don’t, never Neteyam,” Your voice breaks off into a whine as he nips at the soft flesh on your chest, reaching to untie your top. Goosebumps spread across your skin as he touches as he pleases, hands trailing from your thighs, up to your breast, and then back down to your thighs. Teasing, he’s teasing you. You whine as you squeeze his hips in between your thighs, pulling him closer. “I’ve only ever wanted you.” 

“You mean that?” He asks softly as he carefully takes a breast in his mouth, tongue gently lapping. He watches your reaction, gauges what you don’t like and do, and adjusts all of his movements perfectly. As he nips, a small cry falls past his lips. “You didn’t answer me, yawne.”

“Yes, yes I mean that.” You answer, body steadily heating as he makes his way in between your thighs, kneading the soft flesh. 

“So soft.” He bums to you, placing his head on your thighs as if they were a pillow. He's still teasing, unmoving as he looks up at you from where you want him. 

“Nete,” Your voice breaks, reaching down to pull softly at his braids, growing impatient. His palms rub along your skin soothingly, moving from your outer thighs, up to your hips where he grabs and holds. “Please, take it off,” You plead as be toys with the ties on the side of your hip, twirling them around his finger. 

“Of course, pretty.” Neteyam finally caves in, pulling your loincloth off carefully. You feel his heartbeat increase, pupils growing even more. Your adrenaline masks your embarrassment, wanting him more than ever. Neteyam peers up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your reaction. His breath fans over you, making your thighs tighten where they sit on his shoulders. “So pretty, so beautiful.” He mumbles, lightly licking along your heat. 

You can feel the lightning shoot up your back, a moan ripping through your throat. You can feel him inhale hard, nose pressed flat against your skin as he breathes in deeply. “Neteyam! Don’t!”

“Too good,” He ignores you, breathing in your scent in deep, greedy gulps. He ignores your whining, face buried as deep as possible into your cunt. 

“Neteyam, you need to rel-AH!” His arms wrap tight around your waist, dragging you along the ground. He pulls your hips easily up to his face, now kneeling and sitting on his feet. “Eywa, Nete,” A moan travels through the trees as you balance on your upper back, hands reaching down to grab his knees to try and talk sense into him. Your nails dig where they can reach, Neteyam lost to you as he licks, sucks, and flicks along your clit with ease you would expect from someone experienced. 

“Need you,” He moans into your pussy, only worsening your circumstances as he sends you closer to the edge. He moans into you, enjoying eating you out as if he was being pleasured currently. Your moans are impossible to hold back, whimpering, moaning, and crying out his name. “Taste better than, fuck, anything I’ve ever bad,” He growls, tightening his hold, folding his arms more. 

It’s ridiculous, how you’re positioned, completely helpless from his assault. Your knees are resting on his shoulder, accidentally flexing and sending you grinding against his face, a loud moan coming from both of you. “Do it again, ride my face,” Neteyam growls softly. 

You whimper as you do so, flexing your legs and consistently pulling your pussy across his face. When your legs begin shaking too badly to continue at the same pace, he picks up the slack for you. “Going to cum,” You cry, nails digging in deeper, beginning to break skin. He doesn’t even register the pain, desperate to get you there. 

“Cum, cum on my tongue,” He growls, never slowing his ministrations. You whimper as he pushes you closer and closer, legs beginning to tighten around his head. 

“Cumming, Nete,” You cry, head falling against the soft moss as you do so. Your legs tighten around his head, holding him there as you ride out the orgasm. They finally loosen when the overstimulation kicks in, unable to remain locked down. 

“So good, so pretty for me,” Neteyam coos, carefully moving your body so you’re once again laying flat on the ground. His palms soothe over your thighs, rubbing the shakes out where they sit around his hips. “So good, such a perfect mate for me, such a perfect girl,” He mumbles. 

“Nete, need you,” You whine, using the last bit of your strength to sit up. Your hands push softly at his shoulders, switching the positions as you straddle his hips once more. His loin cloth is stretched, body wanting you more than he could ever tell you. Your lips crash against his, tasting yourself on his face. Heat immediately spreads across your cheeks, slight embarrassment, as you fumble with his ties. This time, he lets you. 

“You okay, pretty?” Neteyam coos as you untie him, eyes never leaving your face. His hands slide along your hips, making their way in between your thighs once again. “Are you going to be able to take me, hmm?” His voice has a slight teasing tone, but you know there’s concern underneath it as well. Your head falls forward as he slowly sinks a finger into your heat, allowing your face to nestle in his shoulder. 

“I want you, Neteyam. I want your cock,” You complain softly, body aching with want. 

“I know, but I don't want you to hurt yourself,'' Neteyam has a purr rumbling in his chest. He cares for you, so deeply, even as he tortures himself with the amount of restraint he’s exercising. Another whine is pulled past your lips as another finger slips in, curling to hit just right. “There it is, there you go,” Neteyam coos as you turn to putty in his hold, fingers exactly where you need him. He stretches you thoroughly, to his liking. Pleasure shoots through your spine, mind melting. “Okay, you got this,” He smiles at you, fingers rubbing comforting circles on your hips. 

Your shaky hands line him up, excitement and nerves shooting through your body. Your breathing is uneven as you sink down, panting as you sink down to the base, hips pressed together. “Fuck, fuck,” Neteyam pants, one of his hands holding your hips and encouraging you to grind against him. It draws soft moans from the two of you, the spiritual and physical connection between the two of you making your mind feel fuzzy, almost numb. “You’re doing so good for me, my sweet mate. Taking me so well, taking it so well.” He encourages, gently rocking up into you. 

“My mate, my mighty warrior.” You pant, gathering all of the strength you still have to rock yourself along his cock, doing your best to take all of him each time. Neteyam feels feral as you pant on top of him, thighs shaking on either side of his hips. Only he can make you feel like this, only he can see you in this state, all for him. You’re taking him so well, so warm and welcoming as you coax him inside with each thrust. You’re so close, holding his body completely flush against yours. All of his senses are full of you, one hand holding your back and the other has a death grip on your hip. 

“So good to me, all for me, only for me.” Neteyam continues to encourage you, your whimpers and mewls filling his ears as you hide in his shoulder. Possessiveness grows, consumes him as you shudder into him, his sweet mate. He's never felt like this, his skin hot, a strong desire growing in his chest. 

“Want to cum, Nete.” You’re so sensitive, so hot just because of him. You whimper, words slurred as you fight to think even the slightest bit straight. Your arms are wrapped around him for purchase, the only thing providing you stability as you grind down on his cock. Your small whimpers and moans fill your ears, making you flush red in embarrassment. Biting them back, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip is the best you can manage. Neteyam picks it up instantly, both due to your connection and his ears alerting him.

“What is it, my mate?” Neteyam draws, not able to use the term enough. “Not feeling good anymore?” The confidence and smugness oozes from each work, he knows the answers to his questions before he even asks. “Don’t want to give me your little whines anymore?” Neteyam knows what he’s doing, punctuating the end of his sentence with a gentle snap up of his hips. A broken sob falls from your lips, mewls and whines quickly following it. “There she is, are you going to come for me? Let me hear you, yawne. Use me to make yourself feel good, pretty.” 

His voice is intoxicating, feels like you’re on drugs as you pant and whine on top of him. Your hips grind down, no longer bouncing as you whimper as his tip repeatedly hits where you want him, where you need him. Neteyam happily allows you, fondness growing stronger as you do as you please, following his instructions. It doesn’t feel as good to him this way, but god damn it, seeing you in this state easily makes up for it. 

“Feels good, hm?” He asks softly, words muffled by your hair as you pull him close. One hand slides down, gently circling the little bud that he knows makes you tick. 

“Ah, ah, gonna cum for you, Nete,” Your voice mewls, soft pants breaking up your words as you ride him how you like. Your thighs are shaking worse now, chasing your high like nothing else matters. “Can I cum, please?” 

“Of course,” His abs clench hard as he fights off his orgasm, your pussy clenching hard around him as you become more sensitive. His restraint is wearing thin, patience being tested like never before. As you teeter closer, his fingers circle just the slightest bit faster. And you’re cumming around him, hard. His own lips part with a moan as you squeeze his length, shaky thighs continuing to move as your determination to ride it out takes over. Your pants fill his senses, heartbeat filling his own chest, minds molding together. 

Eventually, your hips slow, one hand quickly grabbing and pulling his wrist away from your heat. “Nete,” You whimper, squeezing around him. Your arms wrap around his back, chests flush together. “Want you to feel good,” 

“I am, yawne.” Neteyam smiles at you, rolling his hips up into you. “Wanted you to feel good, first.'' His voice is gentle as he maneuvers the both of you. Your back hits the ground once again, Neteyam still in between your thighs as he follows close. “Absolutely killing me, doing all I can to hold myself back,” A small growl rumbles through his chest, pressing his hips against you, filling you as deep as possible. “Absolutely losing it,” He growls as he pulls out, snapping his hips forward. You moan, loud. 

“Don’t hold back, feel good, Neteyam.” You whimper, his palms slipping underneath your thighs. Your breath catches as he hikes your legs up, hands meeting the bend of your knees as he folds you. 

“I'm sorry, yawne,” Neteyam moans softly, pressing his forehead against yours as he absolutely ravishes you. His hips snap hard into you, no longer holding back as he chases his own release. You moan loudly against his lips, not quite kissing, but lips brushing together. He groans and growls, eyes falling shut as he slams his hips into you, filling your cunt completely up each time. 

Your noises are unrelenting, unable to bite them back as pleasure shoots through your body with each thrust. Neteyam is feral, chasing the high that he’s edged himself off of for the last hour. “Neteyam, gonna cum, you feel too good,” You whimper, biting at your lips as you peel your eyes open to look at him. Your arms shakily move, clawing softly at his back. 

“Cum, cum for me.” Neteyam mumbles, “Gonna cum with you this time, okay paskalin?” He asks softly, pressing a shaky kiss to your cheek. His hips twitch and abs tighten as he focuses on how tight you’re wrapped around him, twitching and clenching down harder as you’re about to cum for him once more. “Gonna fill you up, okay? Put a future clan leader into you,” He groans harshly, feral, animalistic. “My baby, you’ll be a good mama for me,” 

“Nete, oh fuck,” You cry, cumming hard around his cock. A broken sob falls from your lips, face leaning forward. Before you even have a moment to think of it, your teeth sink deep into his shoulder, your mating bite. Neteyam shudders as you mark him, hips continuing as he fucks you through your orgasm, soon spilling into you. 

“Fuck, fuck yawne, good girl,” Neteyam groans, letting go of one of your legs and holding your head. He doesn’t pull you away, but relieves the strain on your neck as you bite into him. His hips slow, every now and then thrusting into you as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy. 

You release your hold, pulling your fangs out of his skin. Laying back down, there’s blood and drool on your lips, eyes glazed over as you stare up at him. Neteyam lazily thrusts once or twice more, overstimulation kicking in before he’s slowly pulling out. “Paskalin, you okay?” He mumbles gently, carefully moving your legs to a more comfortable position. Kissing your forehead, you begin to come back, more aware of his words. “You did so well,”

“Neteyam, I see you,” You can’t help but smile at him. Your heart is so full, so fond, as your eyes water. “I love you,” It’s more human, Neteyam isn’t entirely familiar with it. 

“I love you too,” Regardless, he doesn’t miss a beat, “I see you.” Neteyam nuzzles his face into you, arms wrapping around your back as he lays down, pulling you close. “We are mated for life, I am with you now.”

little extra lol

A couple of days have passed since then, and Neteyam has never felt so secure and confident in his life. His father was a bit upset he didn’t get the run down before like his mother did, but nothing serious. Kiri and Lo’ak saw it coming, and Tuk? She’s just as excited as Neteyam. You’ve started your official Tsahìk training now, alongside copious amounts of support from the Sully family. 

While he is your #1 supporter, he can’t help but feel annoyed that he’s barely seen you the last couple of days. His mate, and they only meet after sunset for rest. He hasn’t even seen your little human body in days, always falling asleep with your Avatar and your human form staying at the lab (It’s easier, you start training extremely early in the morning.) 

He almost cries from relief when you wake him, small human body basically sitting on his chest. “Nete, I have a day off,” You grin, still shaking him slightly. The excitement quickly shoots south, but in a surprising way. He can feel your heartbeat, it’s as if you were back to the night you had officially become one. But you were human. 

“Y/n?” He mumbles, thinking he’s still half asleep. As he sits up and becomes more aware, he’s not imagining it. “I see you,” 

“I see you-“ 

“No, I see you.” He mumbles, placing his hand over his heart. “Like we’re connected, I can feel your heartbeat right now…” Neteyam thinks hard, and he thinks hard for hot minute, “Like, our tsaheylu works even in your human body, I feel you, sense you,” 

Neteyam’s mind runs fuzzy at the realization, big head falling into the crook of your neck and taking a deep, long inhale of your scent. He's suddenly way too aware of you sitting in his lap, small frame draped over his much, much larger one. “Y/n,” He groans, deep as his arms wrap around you, caging you in. His hands knead at your soft flesh, well-fed, healthy, fertile. His mind absolutely reels at the thought, the embodiment of fertility. 

“Neteyam, we can’t,” You mumble against his skin, voice close to his ear, goosebumps spreading. He knows why, he does. As his frame easily hides your entire body just with his torso, he knows. He’d break you, truly. “I can link with my-“ 

“No, no.” He shakes his head, palms groping at the soft meat of your thighs. He doesn’t want your Avatar, he wants you. He feels this body, he’s connected not with your bodies, but with you. The thought sends him. 

“Nete, I physically can't,” There’s humor in your words, a slight giggle as you pull away to peer at him. His pupils are giant, mind cloudy as he stares at you. You chuckle, hands pulling at your mask. With one deep breath, you pull it off. 

“What are you-“ His panicked tone is quickly cut off when your lips press against his, soft and careful. It doesn’t help his situation, lips so unbelievably soft where they’re connected with his own. His mind melts, eagerly kissing you back as if he was starved from it. He whines, a genuine sound, when you pull back, yanking your mask on quickly. 

“You worry a lot,”

“I worry for you,” Neteyam rolls his eyes. Maybe if he ignores you, and his unbelievable attraction for you, the tightness in his cloth will go away. It's all wishful thinking, impossible thinking, given how you’re currently straddling his thighs. “You have to give me a bit to calm down, yawne. I can't do it with you sitting like this,” He whines, growing uncomfortable with each passing second. 

“Why can’t I help you?” You whine, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck, a small pout on your face. 

“Because I’m scared I will lose it and hurt you,”

“You’d never hurt me, Nete,” It’s a genuine statement, both of you know it. “Not in a way I didn’t want, anyway,” 

“Yawne,” He groans, “Not helping.”

“C’mon, let’s go find somewhere private.” You almost have it in you to laugh at him when you climb off his lap, a genuine crazed look in his eyes. 

“Do you not feel it in this body?” Neteyam asks as he runs after you, picking you up to more easily scale home tree. You think for a couple of moments, shrugging. 

“I think I feel it all the time, I thought it was normal,” You answer him honestly, arms and legs wrapped around his body as he climbs and runs. His ikran meets him hastily, and he’s taking off before he even asks you if you’d like to sit on the saddle instead. 

“Maybe I couldn’t tell because I haven't seen you in this body in awhile,” He concludes as he lands, hoping down with you still death gripped to his back. “Been killing me, Y/n. It’s like torture, being away from you for so long,” He whines, immediately turning to wrap you in his hold when your feet touch the soft grass. He kneels carefully, more level with you as he continues the dramatics. “Missed your little human body tripping over sticks,” He teases, knowing the sticks are logs for you. His head finds itself against your chest, listening to the way your heart beats. 

“Oh the drama,” You laugh, making yourself comfortable when you sit down. “Can't kiss you in this body, it’s unfair,” You complain as you lay down, knowing Neteyam is soon to find his place in between your thighs. It takes almost no time, legs widening to accommodate the large Na’vi. 

“We can work out a system,” He really wants to kiss you, “Deep breath,” He barely lets you finish before he pulls the mask off, immediately slamming his lips against your own. He’s desperate and needy, the feeling only multiplying as you’re finally close. He can feel the heat in between your legs, making him lose his judgment. He kisses you as if his life depends on it for a bit, before his care for your well-being overrides his thoughts and he’s placing the mask back on. “Fuck, just missed you so much,” He grins, trailing down to your chest as he kisses along your sensitive and thin skin. It’s like torture when he trails down, his mind melting as his fingers trail over the edge of your own beaded cloth. 

“It’s okay Nete,” You’re quick to reassure, watching as he immediately takes the go ahead and unties it. Wasting no time at all, he genuinely wastes no time as his head immediately buries in between your legs. “NETEYAM, FUCK!” You yelp, his giant head occupying all of the space. He's starved, so starved, and he eats to reflect that. You’re cumming once then again, then again, and then- 

“One more for me paskalin, just too good, tastes too good, it’ll be the last one,” 

Once his face finds its way out, he’s absolutely covered in your arousal and cum. His fingers find his own cloth, an idea popping in his head, “Do you trust me, love?” 

“Of course,” He grins softly, allowing himself to finally be free of his constraint. He moans softly at that alone, so turned on, so drunk on you that his mind is definitely not working to its full capacitors. He whines loud as he slides in between your legs, big, angry cock easily slipping through your wet folds. You whimper as his tip brushes your sensitive clit, continuing to push past it until your hips are flush together. He moans, loud, when he looks down, angry cock just barely nudging at your breasts. 

“I'd break you, yawne,” He growls softly, sliding his hips back before snapping them forward, “I'd break this little body,” He lets out more of a whine when you squeeze your thighs together, giving him more friction, more touch. “But oh, you’d be so full, stuffed full of my cock,” He groans, shuddering slightly on top of you. 

“I know, Nete,” You whimper back softly, losing your mind as he fucks himself against your pussy, shuttering each time he slips into where your thighs squeeze. He genuinely would, likely fuck up your lungs and all vital organs in the process. 

You’re absolutely soaked from his touch, providing more than enough lubrication for him as he easily slides between your lips, constantly hitting your clit right where you need it. It’s obscene, the sounds it’s making, you would think he’s fucking into you. “Nete,” You whimper, hands pulling at his arms to try and get him closer. He obliges happily, leaning forward to press himself against

you. He whines loudly, cock in between either of your bodies. “Love you,”

“Love you too, paskalin,” He smiles softly, kissing the top of your head, “I’m gonna cum for you, hm?” He smiles, watching your face as you eagerly nod. “Deep breath for me, pretty girl,” He grins hard, a giant smile on his face as you follow his instructions. He carefully pulls your mask off, wasting no time in slamming his lips onto yours. He devours your whines, whimpers, and moans, greedily taking them as his hips continue to pump against you. He kisses you until he cums, getting lost in the feel of your lips against his. You whimper as you feel him moan into your mouth, hands beginning to press against his biceps. 

“My mate,” You whimper, reaching for his hand that still holds your mask. He quickly gets the message, placing it back onto your face. 

“Yawne, my girl,” He sighs softly, hips still grinding against yours as he rides out his high with you. “Need you to cum again,” He mumbles against your lips, knowing you weren’t able to cum with him. “Just one more, one more. This will be the last, I promise love,” He almost babbles against your skin, kissing it. 

“I can't, Neteyam,” You whine as his hands trail in between your legs, gently spreading your thighs to allow for more access. Your thighs are no match for his strength, whimpering gently when his fingers ghost across your clit. 

“You can, yawne, for me, please?” He grins softly, a bit of a smirk spreading across his face. The smile never leaves his face as your hands grip hard at his wrists, discoloring his skin from the pressure. Neteyam is obsessed with the way your skin flushes for him, puffy swollen lips parting as he fingers slide in between them. He could watch it for hours, sit here and please you for hours if you’d let him. 

A moan rips past your lips when two of his digits slip into your heat, filled to the brim from just his fingers. Your nails dig into his skin, clenching down around him almost impossibly tight. His eyes are narrowed in, mesmerized as his fingers disappear into you. Neteyam curls his fingers just right, an even louder moan. Your hips jerk hard, legs lifting and wrapping around his arms. “Feels too good,” You whine, thighs locking around him. 

“Cum for me, Y/n,” He groans, prying your legs apart and replacing it with his head. The pleasure is still too much, legs wrapping around his head as his mouth and fingers never cease for a second. 

“Gonna cum for you, gonna cum hard,” You groan, flexing slightly as you grind against his face. Your orgasm blinds you when it washes over you, legs shaking, chest rising and falling rapidly, stomach clenching hard as you rise up. You cum hard, squirting as Neteyam’s fingers still curl and grind into your soft walls. Neteyam has a crazed look on his face, eyes wide as he stares up at you. He's covered in your cum and arousal, just like you're covered in his currently. 

“Y/n,”

“Neteyam I’m sorry I’ve never done-“ 

“Do it again,”

“No, please, Nete,” You whimper loudly, as his fingers curl just right, pleasure washing over you just right. It takes the last bit of your energy, cumming all over his arm in waves as you shake in his hold. Your hands immediately pull his face out from your thighs as you calm him down. He slowly relents, gentle as he removes himself from you. 

“Thank you, my mate,” He smiles, “Love you so much,”

“Love you too,”

“Come, let’s go clean up,” He’s careful as he picks you up, leaving your items where they lay. He carefully makes his way over to the river, slowly stepping in as you hold onto his neck, legs wrapped around his torso. A giant smile spreads across your face as he lowers the both of you in, water up to your necks now. 

“I'm sorry I’ve been so busy recently, Neteyam,” You smile, pushing back some braids that have fallen from his efforts. “Trying hard to get everything quickly,” You grin, hand softly holding his cheek in your hold, “So I can be a good Tsahìk for the people, for you,” 

“I know you will,” He speaks softly, allowing his head to fall forward, pressing his forehead against yours, “I understand, I just miss you,” He instinctively curls into your touch where it rests on his cheek. 

“I miss you too, your grandmother asks me about you sometimes. She told me Eywa sees us,”

“Oh, is that so?” He entertains you, smiling when he pulls back. He's standing, but you’re solely relying on him to not have to tread the water and use up what little energy you have left. “What does she wanna know?” 

“Eh, you know. The basic grandma stuff, if you’re eating well, staying safe,” You smile, cupping some of the water and dragging it along his face. You clean him up, leaning back in his embrace when you’re satisfied with the job. His arms hold you, hands splayed across your back. “If you’re happy these days.”

“Of course I am, yawne, I have you,” His voice is sincere and gentle as he pulls you close, tucking your head into his shoulder as he holds the base of your neck. “All I need.”

@rainbowsocks @nerys-nerie bc you guys commented on the other post, luv uuuu

[stickyspeckledlight]

Boop! 🐾

(L didn't get this out yesterday but I was also a smidge busy balduring my gates and stockpiling knock off thin mints)

Unfortunately I do not have enough thoughts to write a drabble, but yan!aventurine would totally boop you.

The worst part is that you have no one to blame but yourself. On one particular night, when you weren't quite pushed to your limit but where your thoughts certainly did verge on the homicidal, an idea crosses your mind that, you believe to be utter genius in the moment: if you cannot overpower him or outwit him, then you certainly can use your meager mental faculties to bamboozle the fucker.

It's ingenious, you're certain! A touch that is not provocative, not aggressive, but OH so...powerful. A primordial innocence primed with mischief and tomfoolery. An action of such utter stupidity that no one in their right mind could even begin to react to.

He has been attempting to goad you into playing one of his games for the past five centuries (and no, you affirm that your sense of time is quite in order), and from having performed this song and dance innumerous times, it is about now when he says or does something to make you give in, and then entraps you in his hold before you can escape.

It is you who takes the initiative.

A demented grin full of malice and desperation spreads on your face as you ready your finger, and rush over to him, and

Boop! right on his nose.

And it works. He is too stunned; either by the stupidity of the situation, or that you've initiated contact. But you do not fret over the reason. You seize the opportunity and slip into the bathroom, locking it and securing it with a chair you grabbed for good measure. In the throes of your victory, no rational thought crosses your mind.

But all actions have consequences, and this very true fact catches up to you. Aventurine has not come banging on the door or mocking you as you thought he would. You have not heard from him at all. This is a good thing, but it makes you nervous---compounded by the fact you cannot stay in the bathroom forever.

Sure, you could theoretically survive here for three weeks, as the only thing you'd be lacking was food. You had a toilet, and a shower and bath to decompress in, even! And if you wanted to lay down? You could merely set up a haven of comfort with the millions of towels Aventurine keeps in his gargantuan bathroom. It was a great place to bunker in for sure!

.......but do you really want to starve? Like, do you really, really, really want to put yourself through that over him? You do hate him and want to see him suffer, but your mother and every self-help book ever says that you should love yourself! And unfortunately and fortunately for you, you do love yourself enough to not want to go through it. But, you can at least be strategic about it. Nabbing supplies in the night? No, Aventurine has proven himself capable of operating without a wink of sleep for good knows how long. The key to this operation is to leave when he's left! Ahahaha! Good job, you! You really are a bonafide genius! Nous ought to send you an invitation to the ranks of the Society!

(you're aware that he could just bust down your door without issue, but you'll take reprieve when you can get it, you know?)

So, you wait, and keep on waiting even after you hear the entrance close. You will not take any risks, and you wait for what you think is a good hour or three. And then, you emerge.

You are swift and precise, making a beeline towards the kitchen to stock up, and just as you are about to open the cabinet to nab a box of succulent bioengineered cheese crackers---

"Boop!" a gentle pressure mounts on your nose.

There really isn't any winning with this guy, you think. After this nasty surprise, he "revokes your bathroom privileges," mounting it with a lock and essentially requiring his permission with the key card he gives you for it.

And worst of all, your concept of utter genius comes to haunt you in your every waking moment. Coming home from a long day of work? Boop! Threatening your family and friends? Boop! Playing Animal Walking? Boop! Throwing you into a bare room handcrafted for sensory deprivation? Boop! Post nut clarity? Boop!

You then see the one glaring folly in your initial thought process: why did you ever assume Aventurine to be in the right mind in any way or any situation?!

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 14

WIP Wednesday is happening this week! I would've had it up an hour or two ago, but I ended up having to run an emergency errand for my mom to keep her friend's car from being towed. But it's all been taken care of!

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Note: Anyone who still doesn't know which episode I'm basing this arc on should know by the end of this segment. I did realize I made a mistake, though. The invading ghosts are Walker's guards. In the episode, up to this point the trio never refer to them as such. The audience, however, sees Walker send them in. I took that as Danny and co didn't realize they were Walker's people. But as I was going through minute-by-minute while writing, Danny does call them Walker's goons. So he knew the entire time. I'm adjusting that going forward and I'll retroactively make the edits before posting to AO3.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

Everyone left Sam’s house at the same time. The Amity crowd had to get to school and no one felt comfortable staying at Sam’s house while she wasn’t home. As they ate a quick breakfast, Tim noticed Conner’s fingernails were painted.

“Looks good, Kon,” he commented.

“Thanks,” said Sam. “I did them last night while you and Danny were sleeping. Introduced him to actual music, too.”

Conner grinned. “She’s promised to burn me some CDs before we go.”

“A mixed tape is the only valid way to share music,” Sam agreed. “And if he’s gonna rock the punk look, he should know the punk culture, too.”

Tim laughed. “Well, looks like we know what we’ll be listening to on the way home. Will you need a CD player, Kon?”

“Is my laptop not good enough?”

Tim clicked his tongue. “Come to Gotham with me. I know I have an old one lying around. Nothing like listening to a CD while lying somewhere, wired headphones tangling up as you shift position. If you want the authentic experience, that’s the only way to go.”

Conner shrugged, clearly unsure. “If you say so.”

Danny yawned. “You’re giving him Dumpty Humpty, right?”

Sam snorted. “Am I giving him Dumpty Humpty? Who do you think I am? Of course I am!”

“Good. You can’t introduce someone to good music and leave out Dumpty Humpty.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, you’ve gotten me into them. They’re fun. You’ll like them, Kon.”

“You played a song or two by them last night, right?” Conner asked.

Cassie nodded. “Yep. That’s who she was playing when Tucker, Bart, and I left to get some sleep in the other room.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s right. I liked them.”

“Of course you did,” said Sam as she flicked her hair. “I have excellent taste.”

Tucker was typing away on his PDA. “So what’ll you be doing while we’re in school?”

Tim grimaced. “I was thinking of hitting up the local library. We want to learn more about the ghosts. But also B has said that a condition of allowing me to extend my trip is that I keep up with my own schoolwork. So I have some catch up to do.”

Danny waved his spoon at him. “And you get on me for not doing my work.”

“Yeah, but you want to graduate and, like, go to college and shit. The stuff I want to do doesn’t require a diploma of any kind. B’s just making me do it because he society has convinced him it’s important.”

Tucker’s PDA alarm went off. “And that alarm means if we’re not out the door in five minutes, we’re gonna be late.”

Everyone groaned as they pushed away from the table and collected their belongings. The walk into town was filled with music discussion. Bart and Conner mostly listened and took note of recommended bands and musicians. Sam tended to know the most obscure stuff, but Tim knew some foreign bands from his time in Europe that no one else had heard of.

The walk was, thankfully, not disturbed by ghosts, but Danny’s ghost sense did go off several times.

“Didn’t your parents make a device that can track ghosts?” asked Tim the third time he complained. “Would that help you locate them?”

Danny hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe, I’ll have to see if I can find it. My parents stopped using it when it kept zeroing in on me. It was too loud for stealth use, though, and loudly went off anytime I was in range. And it didn’t work great for a 3D environment. So Tucker and I would have to develop a new display that can tell me if one is above or below me.”

“I should be able to help, too. You know how good I am with computers.”

“If I can find the device or blueprints, I’ll take you up on that.”

Not long after, they had to say goodbye at the entrance to Caspar High. Dash and his friends also arrived at about the same time. The group stared at Danny, but didn’t move to interact.

“Think they’re still overshadowed?” asked Conner, mirroring Tim’s thoughts.

“God, I hope not,” said Danny.

“But knowing our luck…” Sam trailed off.

Tim sighed. “Keep your distance as much as possible.”

“I know, mom.” Danny rolled his eyes. The school bell rang and he adjusted his backpack strap. “Gotta go. Have fun at the library.” His sarcasm was very evident and he hugged Tim.

The gesture surprised him and his return hug was slightly delayed. “I think I’ll find more than enough to amuse me there.”

With a quick goodbye, the trio rushed off before they could be late.

“So,” said Cassie, “Sam and Tucker seem to have a ton of ideas about you and Danny.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Danny and I only met in person less than forty-eight hours ago.”

Bart nudged him. “And yet you’re already sleeping in the same bed and giving each other goodbye hugs.”

“I do the same with you guys.” He pulled out his phone to check the location of the library. “Come on, let’s just get to the library. I want to see if they have a digital subscription to the local paper we can use.”

Tim didn’t get much schoolwork done that morning, but he did find out Danny was originally named Inviso-Bill by the press and immediately began planning ways to prank him with that knowledge.

For the rest, he compared what was reported vs what had actually happened with past ghost attacks. One thing was clear, Danny needed much better PR. Hopefully being seen working with the Young Justice would help. And maybe Sam would actually listen if he tried to give pointers on how to manage public perception.

Shortly after noon and before Tim could even pretend he was about to switch over to school work, his phone rang.

“Hey, Danny. What’s up?”

“Tim! Do any of you speak Esperanto?”

“Uh… I don’t. Let me ask Bart.” He lowered the phone to ask.

“Esperanto? What’s that?” asked Bart.

“I’ll explain later,” said Tim. Back into the phone, he added, “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s going on?”

“So… You remember that wolf ghost with the collar? Walker’s goons are after him, too. I’m not sure why since he only speaks Esperanto. I got him away from both them and my parents. Think you can keep him safe until school is out? If I miss any more class I’ll be grounded until graduation. Senior graduation.”

Tim gestured to his friends to pack everything up. “Yeah, sure. Where are you right now? I’ll have Bart meet you first and the rest of us will follow.”

Danny gave him directions to a forested area behind the school which Tim relayed to Bart. As soon as the group was out of the library, Bart rushed ahead to Danny.

Over the phone, Danny let him know Bart had arrived. “Oh, and Tucker just got here, too. Excellent. He can speak Esperanto as well. Looks like he’s explaining things to big and hairy over here.”

“Great. We’ll be there soon as we can.”

“Can we fly there?” asked Conner.

Cassie nodded. “People would just think we’re more ghosts.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Superboy and Wonder Girl were seen in town just last night. No.”

Conner stuck his tongue out at him. “Spoilsport.”

“Relax. It’s not far. GPS has us in the general location in, like, ten minutes.”

“Fine, fine,” sighed Cassie. “We’ll be good.”

Tim elbowed her with a grin. “Now, I never said you had to do that.”

Conner laughed. “So, what is this Esperanto language, anyway? I haven’t heard of it.”

“It’s a conlang based on European languages that’s supposed to be easy to learn. The idea was to make a sort of common language for Earth without promoting a single language like English. It hasn’t gained a lot of traction, though. And if Bart doesn’t know it, then it likely won’t.”

“Huh, weird. Why do you think a werewolf ghost know an Earth-based conlang?”

“Oooh! I bet it’s because he’s the manifestation of some teenage girl’s OC,” offered Cassie.

Tim laughed. “Or maybe the OC of one of the people to create Esperanto.”

Conner shook his head. “You’ve got this all wrong. He’s from an alternate future where Esperanto did take off and a werewolf virus spread among humans.”

The ten minute walk was filled with more and more outlandish theories ending with the wolf being the reincarnation of Jesus who was trying to bring humanity together through the reinstitution of a common language like in the pre-Tower-of-Babel days.

At the edge of the woods, Tim nudged Conner. “Can you hear where they are?”

“Yep. Follow me.”

And then it was less than two minutes before Tim could see them. “Oi! Danny!” he called out with a wave.

Danny flew over to them and hugged him. “Thank you so much! You’re gonna save me so many detentions.” He grabbed Tim’s hand and pulled him towards Tucker and the ghost. “Tim, this is Wulf. Wulf,” Danny said while making eye contact, “Friends.” Then he slowly pointed to each person and said their name.

Tucker rolled his eyes and repeated the information in Esperanto. Tim recognized his and his teammates names and many of the words felt familiar. Likely since he knew or was learning a few European languages.

“So, will we just hang out here for the next few hours until you get out of school?” asked Tim.

“Yeah. It’ll only be about two and a half hours. That okay? Then we’ll go back to Sam’s place. We can hide in her basement.”

“We’ve hung out in worse places for longer,” said Bart. “This is practically cozy. And me or one of the others can run into town for food and supplies. Anything you want from your parent’s place? Food? Snacks?”

Tucker grinned. “If you could get some jerky, that’d be great. No meat at Sam’s.”

Danny laughed. “If we think of anything else, one of us will text it to the group chat.”

An alarm buzzed on Tucker’s PDA. “We’ve got to get back now.”

“Shit. Okay. I’ll fly us back. Bye Tim, everyone!” Danny picked up Tucker and flew away, turning invisible before he was more than a few yards away.

-----

Next

So, more banter and more plot! We're almost starting to get somewhere! This marks roughly the halfway point of the episode. And the arc is almost 25k words. This is why I take forever to publish anything. It always spirals out of my control. Even this section, I originally opened with them in the library. But then I remembered I wanted to have Sam paint Conner's nails and that led to me adding over 900 words to the beginning.

I no longer do tag lists for this fic, but if you make your way to the subscription post, you can set it up so you get notified when this updates.

[chinomiko]

hi! i know it must be kinga boring for you recive questions about castiel bc ppl are obsessed ober him for years but like the other person who asked you a few days ago, i follow you (and ply mcl) for like 10 years and ever since day one my fav boy has been tiel. till this day at the age of 22 he's my favorite and my comfort boy so i joke that he's not a fictional character anymore for me and that i know him personally at this point lol

with that being said, i bet you can imagine that over the years i've been elaborating his personality beyond what the game gives us but he's your boy, you created him therefore you know him and your word is canon, so i'd like to ask a few stuff!! nothing too big, dont worry but here we go.

tiel is an amazing songwriter and since he's very emotional not very good at express it (he does it a lot better now that he's an adult 🥹) i bet his lyricism is very deep and poetic so i have this headcanon that he at first wouldn't like taylor swift because obviously lol but then he payed attention to her lyrics and ends up basically being a swiftie since he likes her writing a lot. what you think about that?

and what kind of music crowstorm sings? like there are any bands that you listen and think "hey this would be in a crowstorm album!" (i have a playlist with this name btw lol). im probably wrong on this one but since this is my fav band i like to think that catfish and the bottlemen are the irl crowstorm, musically speaking

and the last one: another thing that gives me so much comfort is the lystiel friendship. not having present parents, being so closed off i know that lysander is such an important presence on tiel's life because he was basically the only close person he had (specially after the debrah fiasco); if lys didnt had taken the farm and went to college and bla bla bla do you think he would still be part of the band with castiel? im not sure if im mixing the canon with a fanfic i read a while ago (lol) but the band was more of a fun thing to lys, right? he liked writing most (i always imagined him getting into a literature degree or something like this). i also like to think that he helps tiel with lyrics at times, even if he's out of the band (in my head the canon is that they are best friends and pretty close till this day, i pretend lys never left our lives just like armin)

anyways sorry for this big ask 😭 i dont even know if you will read it all but if you do, thank you! and dont feel like you have to answer, i know its too much its just that mcl is my hyperfixation till this day like for real, i have a fanfic that i write still and i even plan on making it into a book sometime. except from the main characters (who is my oc) all the characters will be based on the game's ones :)

ilysm take care and stay hydrated!!

Hellow !

Aww thank you so much and for all your love for Castiel ^^

What a long ask, I'll try to answer in order.

Castiel being a swiftie. No sorry, I don't think he would be. If candy likes her, I'm pretty sure he would try to listen. Also he is an open minded person for sure, so I'm sure he would be curious to listen and study what all the hype is about, it could also help as some sort of far away inspiration, but I don't see him being a fan.

What kind of songs Crowstorm sings This is hard to answer because my musical knowledge is pretty limited and I'm sure I would miss on lot of potential groups or singers that would fit well. And it would require too much research time to have a real detailed and clear answer, but I still did check a bit and here is a little list of songs/groups that I think would have a fitting vibe for Crowstorm

City of the dead - Hollywood Undead The worst in me - bad omens Paranoid - I prevail Trauma Just pretend - Bad omens Ice Nine Kills - A grave mistake Catfish and the bottlemen sounds nice but I think its a bit too soft for what I imagine for Crowstorm.

What is his voice like I think something similar to this (not necessarily the song itself, just the voice. )

bonus, I think this song is so so fitting for Castiel's breakup song, I love it. Dial Tone - Catch your breath

Castiel and Lys friendship. It was'nt mentionned much in UL/LL because I didnt wish to bring too much drama by mentioning Lys when he was not there for the players, but of course Lys and Cast always kept in touch. It is very clearly mentionned in Lys' AL that they keep in touch, that Lys helps Castiel write songs and Cast also like to come to his farm to have a break and spend time together. You should play it if you havent, you'll have a good chunk of Cast and Lys friendship :) However yeah I can confirm that Lys would not like to do it serisouly and professionally, but he'll be all the way around to support and help Cast.