#realised i always forgot that one tag anyway

[orange-artblog]

dark cream week: day 6 - thunder

shattered by galacii-gallery

cross by jakei95

dark cream week by @zu-is-here

the full image ->

and a close up of Shattered as I think it‘s quite pretty

[asakamasanobu]

my insane person thought of the day is what if the asaka i fell in love with is completely mischaracterised bc of how mistranslated this series is .. and my rational person counterbalance is that there is no way that is possible bc the mistranslations aren’t even THAT bad and you’ve already read a few asaka parts in japanese and he sounds pretty much the same but like imagine .......

[spider999sposts]

you kept me like a secret—Miguel O'Hara

🕸synopsis: you are done being his little secret

🕸tags: fem!reader × Miguel O'Hara

🕸no warnings

🕸notes: posted this on ao3 and forgot to update here!

🕸part 2

It made your blood boil.

You couldn't take it anymore. It was fun at first. Hiding it from everyone. Concealing your underlying feelings to one another infront of the rest of the Spider-Society, yet if anyone looked closely, they notice your little slip ups. How you glanced at each other with fondness, how Miguel's hand somehow always ends up trailing across your waist, how your fingers brush against his everytime you are in a meeting, how on missions, you two always stick together, and how during break, you would be the only one making sure he's had his daily dose of empanadas.

But now it was ridiculous.

It's been a few months now, and he's been different. Treating you the same way he'd treat any regular member of the spider-society, even a little lesser than that. He was rough, harsh, unforgiving, you knew that about him, but despite his nature, he would always be a little gentler to you. That changed.

You just assumed it was because of the Miles Morales situation. When Miguel became fixated on something, he'd be that way, a perfectionist. It was a blessing and a curse.

But what made you realise that this is getting a little too secretive for your liking, was his birthday.

You stood with your drink in hand at the bar. You were the one who set this whole thing up for him, after all, parties were the only occasion where he would let loose (as well as in the privacy of his penthouse with you, but that was not the case now.)

You made sure you got his favourite flavour of cake, getting decorations that won't bother his sensitive red eyes, going even as far as hacking into his gizmo so no bothersome notifications would upset him that day. You were even dispatching other spider-people on anomaly and canon event missions, so he wouldn't have to worry about it all day. It was exhausting, planning a party while simultaneously keeping everything in order in the multiverse without any guide to how Miguel keeps it all together.

You thought he'd be happy you threw him a party, but ever since he'd walked in, he ignored you. He did not utter a word with you since his arrival, yet you could see him chuckling and smiling along side some other people.

"Hobie, do you have something stronger than this cranberry soda?" You turned to the bar, pushing your glass towards Hobie, who was bartending for the night. "F'course I do," He chuckled, "But you know Miguel's rules, lad doesn't want anyone getting drunk."

"Oh, Come on, I've seen you sneaking Lego Peter and Peter B. martinis and scotch, why can't you do that with me?—Wait, since when do you follow any rules anyway?" The punk chuckled, "I don't. You said it yourself, I've been sneaking drinks and everyone is a little tipsy. But they're drinking to let loose, that's not why you wanna drink though, eh?" His eyes glanced at Miguel, then at you. Hobie was the only one smart enough to notice anything, and he was also the only one who noticed the change in attitude between the two of you. You never really talked about it, but he always had this knowing look on his face.

You grumbled, and he just moved under the sink, pulling up a tall glass of..some unspecified liquid. "The fuck is that?"

"I present you to you, 'The Unnamed'. I don't believe in labels."

"Ah, but isn't calling it 'The Unnamed' a label in itself?"

Hobie's colours changed a couple of times, from red to blue to pink and then back to grey. You've irritated him. He rolled his eyes and then put some of this unspecified liquid into your glass, filling it halfway. "You've bested me, now drink up."

"Is this like regular alcohol or—" You asked, bringing the drink to your lips. It was queit sweet, and it had none of the sting that seeps into the throat when you drink alcohol.

Hobie interrupted, putting the bottle away."It is not alcohol, it is a special concoction of mine. It may or may not make you want to speak your mind." His eyes left your confused face and looked up, to the taller frame making his way towards the both of you. "Birthday lad, want me to get you anything?" He jumped off the counter, standing beside Miguel.

"Hm. A refill on the scotch would be nice."

"Too bad, help yourself, I don't take orders from anyone." He strutted away, and gave you a wink, as well as a small smile.

Miguel huffed, "Ese pedacito de mierda."  He mumbled, grabbing a glass and a bottle from behind the counter. He still did not acknowledge your presence, so you decided to be the bigger person and just talk to him.

"He's funny though, his little antics are amusing." Miguel raised his brows at you, moving to sit beside you. That was good, you were hoping for any reaction.

"He's bothersome." He replied shortly, sipping his drink. When he spoke, he didn't look in your eyes, which is odd, Miguel loved gazing into your eyes. He always said it was the only way he could tell how you're feeling. "And yet you keep him around."

"I never said he lacked skill."

"I suppose you did..not." You took another sip of that weird drink he gave you. An odd sensation was tingling at the back of your head. Miguel took a glance at you, and his nose scrunched up in confusion. "What on god's green earth are you drinking?"

You held up the glass to him, chuckling. The liquid was a bit odd looking. Consistency like melted ice cream and the colour of silver. "The Unnamed."

"Pardon?"

"Its called 'The Unnamed', Miguel. It's Hobie's great invention. It's pretty good, once you ignore how it looks."

"Doesn't look very inviting." He added, and then suddenly it went queit between both of you, the only thing peircing through the thick silence was the loud music playing and the sounds of people laughing and chuckling.

You weren't sure if it was the drink, or the ever-growing, tamed anger in your chest, but you felt the urge to speak.

"I planned this party for you, you know."

His red pupils met yours.

"I made sure you had a nice day. No stress. Made sure LYLA didn't inform you of anything that could make you lose it—"

"What? The multiverse—"

"—and  I dispatched teams to make sure everything goes smoothly. All while getting decorations and setting up the place."

He went dead queit. You did not like that.

"...and yet, you have not spoken a word to me all day." A laugh sounded out of you, but it seemed more like a huff. "Not even a thank you. No anything. It's like you don't even know me."

"I—"

You didn't let him continue.

"You did not even come and talk to me until now, and it was because you wanted a drink."

He slammed his glass on the counter, the glass cracked a bit. You slammed yours too, he was not the only one irritated here.

"What do you want me to say?" He rasped, his voice a little lower than a whisper. So far, no one has noticed your heated argument, but if this escalates further, you will have an audiance. "There are suspicions that we are a thing. I can't..We can't risk it." His tone was a little more gentle, but there was still this look in his eyes that you couldn't decipher. To most, Miguel was a book shut close, one that no body could peak into. With you, he was different.

Was different. You couldn't for the life of you figure out what he was thinking as of this moment.

"Miguel, you don't even ask me to spend time with you when everyone is gone or asleep." You replied, "And what if the spider-society found out? Is that so awful? You hand picked these people because you trust them. What's wrong with them knowing?—"

"You and I are not from the same universe. That could very well disrupt the canon—"

Unknown to both of you, you two have been leaning towards each other, your lips almost touched, but it was hard to focus on anything else when you were boiling.

"Do you think I'm naiive? If our love was a threat to the canon, you would've eliminated the possibilty of us happening anyway. You wouldn't have kissed me that day. You—"

"Oi, birthday boy, this one was specially hand–picked for you!"

Your necks snapped towards the direction of Hobie, who was standing behind the DJ booth with Gwen. A familiar song started playing, Miguel's favourite.

How ironic. Of course you only realise now why a song like Secreto de Amor is his favourite.

You both turned away from each other, but Miguel's features softened.

"You're the one who told them I like this one, I'm presuming." He hummed, sighing heavily. You only gave him a small 'mhm'. "Thank you."

You glanced at him, his fingers were circling the edges of his empty glass of scotch. "It..I'm enjoying my time." He added, giving you a faint smile.

Yet he did not acknowledge what you told him. But you found yourself sighing, that burning feeling subsided for a moment. You let yourself smile at him, extending one of your hands towards him.

Miguel just stared at it, a bit confused.

"Since its your favourite, we should dance. You haven't danced since you got here."

Puzzled, he kept staring at your hand. It took him a moment, then he shook his head.

"No."

Your brows furrowed.

"What?"

"I am not dancing with you."

You stared blankly at him.

"Why?"

"I can't."

"You can't dance?"

"I won't dance. Not with you. You know we can't."

That was it for you. You put your hand down, and picked up your belongings. You couldn't even look at his face. This was absurd. You weren't asking him for the world. You were only asking him to dance.

You moved quickly, you heard Hobie calling out for you, but you had already gone through the door and was heading to the elevator.

You heard heavy footsteps running after you, and a familiar red webbing wrapped around your wrist as you kept slamming the elevator button.

You looked up, and he was there, looking at you like he can't figure out what he has done wrong.

"You're being childish." He spoke, his voice echoing through the space. You couldn't believe him. "What?"

That's all it took him to say for you to burst.

"I am done being with you, Miguel." You said, not noticing the tears that welled up in your eyes until they were staining your cheeks. "I'm done being your little secret. I'm done being your midnight lover, and I'm done being with a man who is so horrified at the thought of us being together."

"You don't know what you're talking about." He pulled the web that was wrapped around your wrist, pulling you towards him, but you ripped it before you could collide with his chest.

The elevator dinged, and you got inside. Miguel rushed to follow you, but you were already closing the door.

"Wait—"

"I'm not coming back to your little club-house." You pulled a box from your bag, and threw it at him before the elevator's door could close.

"Happy fucking birthday, Miguel." was the last thing he heard before the elevator began descending.

Miguel looked at the box on the ground, and picked it up. When he opened it, he saw a silver ring, with engravings inside of it. There was a note as well.

'Consider this a promise, and an oath.

I will always love you, no matter what you do.'

The engraving inside of the ring were the date you first met, with the words 'I'd look for you in every multiverse.'

Seems like that was untrue now.

[tojivu]

SUGAR.

a/n “you’re the only one i want by my side when i fall asleep.”

warnings/tags how genshin men look out 4 you! pls don’t Flop i’ll cry (includes childe diluc zhongli xiao)

CHILDE holds your hand tightly as he leads you through the crowd. it was unbelievable how packed the market was today. all he wanted was to get some fruit and stroll around the city—the weather was perfect. the sun was beating down on you both; you could almost feel the hot concrete through your slippers. ajax insisted you put on sunscreen, saying he doesn’t want you to get burns; dragging you to the bathroom while doing so. it seemed like he cared about your safety more than anything else—as soon as he got home, he had started to complain about how he forgot to put sunscreen on himself.

“ajax, stop moving around. you’re making this harder than it should be.”

“it hurts.” he frowns, sucking air through his teeth as the cold aloe vera lotion spread across his skin. you shook your head in annoyance.

“you were so obsessed with getting the sunscreen on me, now look at you.” he doesn’t take well to this, and you know because you look up and see his face; eyebrows furrowed and ears red from embarrassment.

“didn’t want you to get burned.”

so stubborn, you thought—but you can’t help but smile a little anyway.

—

DILUC is, naturally, a very busy man. there was a lot of work that he would need to get done, some taking hours to finish up. nevertheless, diluc ragnvindr would always find a way to take care of you, even when he’s piled with work. most nights, you finished work late—coming home to an empty house wasn’t the most pleasant idea to you. coming home later always meant that diluc would be waiting for you, calling out your name as soon as you step in.

the quiet air was not something you enjoyed. when you were at home, you’d often hear a pen scribbling because of diluc—even the most tiniest sound could calm you, knowing that he’s right there, even if he doesn’t speak at all.

you were puzzled as to why you didn’t hear a shout of your name as soon as the door opened. no greeting came, and you were a bit disappointed. why wasn’t he here? he’s always home before you.

suddenly, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and a familiar red-haired figure pops into the hallway. “y/n, hey, i’m so sorry. was in the shower.”

“don’t scare me like that. thought i was home alone,” you gave a sigh of relief, and diluc welcomes you home with a hug—as he always did.

“i’m never late to anything, y/n.” perhaps it’s the professional side of him speaking, though you can’t help but think something in his soft smile says otherwise.

—

ZHONGLI gets paranoid everytime you cook for him. would you burn yourself, spill oil everywhere? start a fire? he never knew with you. don’t get him wrong, it’s not that he thinks you can’t cook—he just doesn’t want you to get hurt. ever since that one fine evening two years ago (an incident you and your neighbours would rather forget), zhongli has never trusted you to be alone in the kitchen. he fries the eggs in the morning while the most he’d let you do is toast bread.

you find yourself craving a hot bowl of noodles, and zhongli doesn’t realise you’ve left your shared bedroom until he reaches for you in bed—no one.

you’re boiling a pot of water and you can hear rushed footsteps coming down the stairs, and when your boyfriend’s face appears in the kitchen doorway—you know you’re about to get a lecture. his nose is scrunched and his eyebrows are stern, and you think he looks adorable, despite the fact that as soon as he opens his mouth..

“didn’t i tell you to tell me if you’re going to cook?”

“it’s just hot water.”

“let me do it, okay? i’ll drain the noodles for you, then i’ll leave you be.” you know your boyfriend has your best interests at heart, no matter how paranoid he may be. you give up, stepping away from the stove; you can’t complain much anyway, he looks very handsome when he cooks. something about the way he holds chopsticks is very alluring.

—

XIAO holds your hand tight and walks you home, no matter where you are. if you sent him a text saying you were scared, he’d come running even if you were stuck in the middle of a deserted island. he never wants you to feel unsafe, and he does his best to be with you whenever you do feel unsafe. when you both are out on a date in the late hours of the night, he’s gripping your hand and holding you close—making sure nobody but him could get near. he makes sure you get home safe, watching you step into your house and closing the door before he makes his own way home.

“xiao, hey, i think you should go home. i can walk from here.” you tell him. he looked so tired, and you felt bad because all you did was drag him around the city today.

his eyes blinked slowly at yours, as if he was processing what you just said. it was 2 in the morning and you’re not sure if he was going to pass out.

“nah, i’ll walk you.” he insists, grabbing a hold of your hand and taking the lead—he knows your way home by heart now and he hates how it’s always so dark in your neighbourhood.

arguing with him is futile, most times. you choose to accept it, your boyfriend’s hands feel so warm—so safe and tight, as if he’d never let you go.

“okay.”

i did childe and diluc so dirty i am so sorry it’s always rhe gingers — 181022

psst join in on my 300 follower event.. — 231022

[pajarinwrites]

you could ask

➳ fem!reader x Dino

➳ wc: 2.7k

➳ TAGS: pwp; fluffy smut, smutty fluff MDNI, my dudes; it's so sweet tho kjsdiasejnasd

➳ WARNINGS: fucking(?) it's super fluffy though; fingering (f receiving), kissing, marking, petnames (babe, baby for her)

➳ AN: i continue to surprise in that dino is my least biased member except now that i wrote this, he might not be anymore; he's such a cutie ugh; also this RAN! AWAY! FROM! ME! it started as a drabble but 2.7k can under no circumstances be classified as a drabble. also there initially was supposed to be piv sex but then it got too long. i'll definitely write a continuation one-shot for this ugh. anyway, ENJOY!

also that's my fave photo of channie

You look up from your phone as your friend enters the lobby. He has his duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, wearing the usual cap, mask, sunglasses combo in public, in an effort to remain unrecognised.

“Hey,” you greet with a soft wave. He pulls off his sunglasses to reveal eyes crinkling with smiles. “Hey!” He replies back, pulling you into a short hug before calling the elevator.

“How was practice?”

“The usual. Except Hoshi-hyung was hungover.”

“Huh?” You ask, sure you must’ve misheard him. Chan laughs in reply.

“Yeah, he filmed that program with Youngji yesterday that you like watching.”

“And he didn’t tell me?” You ask in mock affront, one hand resting on your chest dramatically. Chan shrugs. “I guess he assumed I’d tell you. But I forgot.” He sticks his tongue out to you as you follow him to his apartment.

You pass Vernon and Dokyeom in the kitchen; they wave to you in greeting before you follow Chan into his room.

“Leave the door open, children!” Dokyeom screams after you, prompting your friend to scream a dry hahaha back and slam his door all the harder. “They’re not even funny,” he pouts, dropping onto his bed where you’ve already gotten comfortable.

“Ugh,” he groans as the climbs up to the headboard next to you. “What’s wrong?” You ask, looking at his tense expression.

“It’s fine, practice just kicked a little harder than I thought.”

“Are you still up for movie night? We can just move it if you’re too exhausted.”

“Of course not! I always have energy for you.” He smiles softly, scooting closer, resting one arm on his headboard behind you as if it did nothing to him. You cleared your throat, trying your hardest not to shuffle so he wouldn’t feel obligated to move his arm away again.

“What’ve you got saved on your laptop?” He asks as you pull it up and open Netflix.

“I mean, I’ve been dying to watch the Scream remake for a while…” You know his stance on horror movies. As expected, “ugh! Can’t we watch something cute and cozy that won’t make me pull a muscle from jump scares!”

“Unfair argument! First you say you’re up for movie night and when it comes to picking a movie you bring up the issue of your sore muscles!”

“Well I can’t just make ‘em magically disappear.”

“But you got to pick the movie the last, like, three times!”

“I’m not saying you can’t pick. I’m just saying pick a different one!”

“Nuh uh, I want this one.” He groans again, rolling his head.

“Okay, then what will you do about my sore muscles?”

“Me? Do you want me to massage your sore muscles for you? Since when are your sore muscles my fault or problem?”

He grins, and with how close his face is to yours, it’s doing all kinds of things to your heart. “If you want to watch Scream so bad, it is your problem…”

Oh, so that’s how it is, you think, realising he never expected you to make good on any muscle relief. Lee Chan knows damn well you hate massages unless you’re on the receiving end. The amount of times he’s given you one eclipses the times you have returned the favour, a grand total of zero times.

“Sure,” you smile sweetly, setting your laptop back down on the floor next to Chan’s bed. He stares at you, eyes wide as saucers. “Huh?”

You remove his arm from your shoulders and get up, motioning for him to lie down. If your best friend wanted to play a game of chicken with you, he absolutely could.

“Also, you obviously gotta take your shirt off.”

Instead of moving, Chan is sitting still as a statue, still staring at you as if your hair had spontaneously changed colour. You wondered if this was really all it was going to take but eventually he shuffles down on the bed. He shrugs off his tee and you pretend like you aren’t surreptitiously looking him up and down.

“Okay, but you gotta do it properly, “ he states as he rests his head on his arms.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You inquire as you get into position, positioning your left knee beside Chan’s body and swinging the other over so that you are straddling his butt.

“Just that you can’t quit after five minutes, and you can’t do it all softly.”

“Hmm,” you hum in agreement, “elbow grease.” Chan giggles in response, but it turns into a groan as soon as you dig your thumbs into the tops of his shoulders.

“You really aren’t holding back, huh?”

“I’ve been ordered to give it my all,” you reply, bearing down on one especially tight trapezius. Chan’s breath stutters under your ministrations and you’re glad he can’t see your face heat up. As your hands wander lower you feel like he’s tensing up more instead of less.

“Hey, relax,” you instruct, “this was your idea.”

Chan grumbles something into his pillow in reply but it only takes him a few more minutes and a few sounds that veer suspiciously into moan territory before he shrugs you off forcefully.

You let out a yelp of surprise as you flop down on the mattress next to him. “What was that for?”

“You did enough, we can watch your silly movie now.” He avoids your eyes and you can see that his face has turned red, but you try to blame it on the heat of the room and the fact that you just treated him like bread dough for fifteen minutes. As he sits back up against the headboard, he pulls the blanket over himself, his hands in his lap awkwardly.

“What are you doing?” You cock an eyebrow.

“Preparing to be scared to death,” he replies with a chuckle you believe was supposed to be light-hearted.

“It’s okay, I’ll protect you. You can hide behind me if you get scared,” you offer graciously. Chan rolls his eyes. “Just start the movie.”

You pull up your laptop and snuggle into your friend’s side. Chan fluffs up his pillows, one behind your back, one in his lap, and welcomes you into his arms again. You’ve watched movies in this position before, but today you’re restless. Chan seems to exude extra body heat today, and maybe it’s your wild imagination but his workouts have really started to pay off, and the feeling of his biceps pressing into your side distracts you more than you’d like to admit.

You stopped watching whatever is going on on screen several dozen minutes ago when you finally clear your throat. You’d been sneaking glances over at Chan for a while, his uncomfortable shifting, the suspiciously placed pillow. You had a hunch when he shrugged you off him earlier but the longer you sat next to him, having to endure his endless shuffling, the more convinced you were. Of course, you weren’t entirely unbothered by his presence either. The glimpse of his naked chest and back hadn’t left your mind, although you were hard-pressed to admit, that that sight had been the reason for your inability to focus. 

“It’s a little boring, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” He asks, turning his frightful eyes from the screen. You hit pause.

“The movie, Chan.”

“Boring isn’t the adjective I’d use, but sure. We can definitely watch something else.”

“We could do something else.” You smirk, shifting so you can face him fully. Bless him, his expression betrays nothing but confusion. He opens his mouth to ask what you’re on about but you beat him to it.

“Chan,” you sigh, “is this going to be a repeat of Seungkwan’s birthday party?”

“Huh?” He asked. But the fact that he had turned a shade redder let you know that he was very aware of what you were talking about.

“You know, when we were in the kitchen alone and you leaned in and I was waiting for you to finally kiss me? But then you chickened out the last second and pretended you had just wanted to grab the vodka from behind me?”

Chan blinks at your, your words evidently not quite processed yet. “You wanted me to kiss you?” You rolled your eyes.

“For someone with such a big head, you can be pretty stupid, you know that?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know? I can’t read your mind.” You lean in closer - resting your hand on his thigh - and take delight in the way his breath hitches.

“You can always ask.” You whisper. He moves in even closer, the pillow sliding off his lap and letting you see that you were right about your prior assumption. You bite your lip at the sight of the obvious tent in his sweatpants.

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks, bringing your attention back to his face. He’s gorgeous, you think, in the half-light of his bedroom, his hair unstyled, his eyes shining. But he really isn’t going to budge if you don’t answer, it seems. “Yes, please,” you breathe.

His lips are on yours, softly, as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. His right hand is cradling your cheek. It makes you smile, wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him down with you. Chan let’s out another groan, catching himself with his left hand next to your head instead of letting his full weight crash into you, which coincidentally happens to be exactly what you wanted. You nudge his hand away, hoping for him to get the hint. Much to your chagrin, he pulls back, panting against your lips.

“What—“ you mean to ask but don’t get around to it when you see the dark, almost desperate shadow in his eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re real.” His gaze drops to your lips, he’s nipping at your lower lip, making his way down your jawline. You manage to hold out on him until he reaches your pulse point, attaching his lips to the sensitive skin and nibbling at it in a way that’ll definitely leave a mark makes you whimper. Right now you couldn’t care less.

“Chan,” you moan, “please…” You can feel him smirk but he complies with your unspoken wish, continuing his way downward.

“Can I take this off you?” He asks, tugging at you shirt. You look down at his eyes, blown out and looking at you like you created the universe.

“Only if yours comes off too,” you say, meaning to tease him. His shirt’s over his head and at the other end of his room before you can blink. “Better?” He smirks, usually you’d be careful not to stroke his ego too much, but right now all you can think about it tracing every ridge on the expanse of his body with your tongue. It’s so much more fun when you can look freely. It must show on your face because Chan leans forward, whispering, “You can eat me up later, baby. Right now it’s my turn.” You have half a mind to hold back your whimpers at the tone of his voice but at the end you’re just a human, not some saint, so you stand no chance against the carnal vices of the flesh.

Chan takes off your shirt so skilfully that a very unwelcome thought of possessiveness flashes through your mind but with how he looks at you (very much not like you threw on your oldest, most comfy sport bra) the evil little voice in your head stands no chance. There can’t be any lingering doubt over his feelings with the way he undresses you slowly, deliberately, with all the care in the world, makes you think he mistook you for a fragile piece of art. His eyes say the same, casting glances at your face again and again, questioning; like he’s ready to drop everything if you so much as breathe a word. You have to commend him, especially with how evident the tent in his sweats has been for the better part of this evening.

“Chan,” you whine, ripping him out of the worship of the skin on your tummy. He looks dazed already. “Please stop teasing.”

He smiles, “Am I teasing you? Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to. You’re just so beautiful.”

You want to tell him off for being a sap but he starts kissing a straight line downwards from your navel and your words are caught in your throat.

His hands skitter up your thighs, making you shiver as he finally presses a digit to your core. He groans, “So wet for me already, love, you’ve soaked through your panties.”

“Looks like you have to take them off, then.” You smile and he obliges easily. It seems he’s really had enough of the teasing because he presses his thumb to you clit immediately, circling it. You moan his name as he slides one finger through your slick, “wanna touch you too.”

“Later, baby. Let me focus on you for now. Can I keep going?”

You mumble a pathetic Ohmygod yes please, that earns you a soft chuckle from him. He wastes no time in sliding a finger into you. Chan moans at the feeling of you wrapped around his fingers.

“Shit, babe,” is all you get out of him before his mouth is back on your skin, kissing up the insides of your thighs as he stretches you out on another finger. “Wanna come on my fingers, love?” You don’t trust your voice right now, so instead you nod vigorously. He stops testing the waters as his fingers and thumb speed up, spreading a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach. He shifts his weight upwards and is hovering over you, never ceasing the motion of his fingers.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.

“If you don’t, I’m leaving right now,” you barely manage to breathe out between pants. From the way Chan smiles at you, you can tell you must look at least as fucked-out as you feel. He chooses not to tease you and you silently thank him for it. Instead he just leans in, meeting your lips in a manner that is nothing like the soft, innocent kisses from before. He pushes his tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth as if he wanted to taste all of you. Just at that moment his fingers find that spot inside you that makes you see stars. You moan into the kiss, prompting him to mirror your sounds. Chan doesn’t let up on that spot, speeding up and hitting it again and again and again until the pressure becomes to much and the knot in your stomach snaps. He fucks you through your orgasm, leaving soft pecks all over your face until you’ve calmed down.

“Feeling better?” He asks. You’re forced to watch as he retrieves his fingers from your pussy, putting them in his mouth instead and licking them clean. He hums comfortably, “you taste so good, babe.”

You’re still staring at him, wide-eyed, trying to make sense of why the sight of your best friend licking his fingers clean of your essence is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He notices your state and his brows furrow.

“Hey, are you okay?” There’s real worry in his voice, so you nod in reassurance.

“I was just thinking that if this what I get for massaging your sore muscles a little, I’m definitely gonna start doing it more often.”

His eyes widen. “You wanna do this more often?” The disbelief in his voice makes you laugh in earnest. “Of course, in case you couldn’t tell, I had a lot of fun.” You’re unsure of your next sentence, but if you don’t say it now, you fear you’ll say it never, “and I like you. A lot.”

He has the dopiest grin on his face as he leans back down, giving you another sweet kiss. “In that case, let me take you out on a proper date before we do this the next time.” You cock an eyebrow.

“Chan, do you wanna be my boyfriend?” The man in question blushes, avoiding your eyes. “If that’s something you also want…”

You look at his expression, hopeful gaze lifting to catch yours. There’s a blush lingering on his cheeks, his hair all mussed up. You’ve never felt more comfortable with another person.

“Of course,” you reply, snaking one arm around his middle and pulling him close, “I’d love that, actually.”

[teyamsatan]

lllicit Affairs | Chapter VI: Death by a Thousand Cuts

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

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

Synopsis: You and Neteyam both have a dark secret that would change everything between you - and neither of you are willing to share.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, Lo'ak x reader, jealous!Neteyam, both main characters thirsting for each other, mentions of lab work, disease, blood, cursing.

Word Count: 7,2k words

A/N: Chapter 6 is the chapter that sets EVERYTHING in motion for what's to come. There is a LOT to come, a lot of drama and angst, maybe some smut (? 😉) and this chapter is meant as a stepping stone to the beginning of the end. Also, realised I forgot to ever mention, that if the dialogue is ever italicised, that usually means the conversation is in Na'vi, I don't know how I have never made it clearer, but here we are.

Thank you so much for everyone who's been reading and asking to be tagged, I never expected this to gain any traction and I am so grateful for people enjoying it x

My heart, my hips, my body, my love Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch Gave you too much but it wasn't enough But I'll be all right, it's just a thousand cuts

One second. 

“Just one second, Neteyammm!”, you whined, as he was trying to remove the blanket from your currently very comfortable and very warm body. 

“It’s late, come on! Early bird catches the worm, isn’t that what you people say?”

“Nobody says that, I don’t know who told you this lie.” 

“It was you!!” he says, and he’s laughing at your whinging while trying to remove the blanket. He’s not trying that hard, considering he would make an easy job out of the task if he used a tenth of his actual force, but he couldn’t bear the thought of bringing you any unnecessary distress. You had enough of that in your life, and he wanted to be a source of comfort for you, a shelter in the storm. 

You scooted on one side of the bed close to the edge, and left a big gap which you brought to his attention by patting it aggressively. 

“Press the button on the audio player and lay with me, please? I don’t feel like going out today.”

He couldn’t say no to you, he realises. He would follow you anywhere in this world, do anything you asked of him, regardless how stupid or reckless or crazy it was. He would always follow you, for the rest of time, and he was happy about it. 

A song he liked came on, one that he’s heard you play before and there was no doubt in his mind that he liked it better when you sang it. He circled the bed and lay in it, next to you, in the dark. 

“Thank you, light of my life.” You attached yourself to him, arms sprawled across his bare chest and legs carelessly placed on top of abdomen and hips, and sighed contently. He could feel your warm breaths on his neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He turned his head to you and placed a small kiss on top of your head and listened to the soft tune filling up the room. 

“Oh, goddamn, my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you”

“You’re annoying.”

“I know I am, but you love me anyway.”

I do, Neteyam thought. I really do…

Things happen in life sometimes, and it makes you lose your ability to react. There was no reaction, definitely no overreaction. You stared at the vial of blood that shattered all across the floor, all across you and your mind was blank. Almost robotically, you made your way to one of the benches and got some paper rolls and the IMS laying next to it. You carefully cleaned all of it, and spit whatever made its way to your mouth to the floor to be removed. When you were sure everything was gone, you went to the sink and removed your goggles and gloves, and scrubbed yourself clean. You felt yourself moving, picking up a bucket of water with some floor cleaner, felt yourself adding disinfectant to it and moping thoroughly, but it was like an out-of-body experience. Like you were merely a puppet executing orders from above. Cleaning everything took about an hour, after which you made your way back to your room slowly, deliberately. 

You didn’t sleep. You spent the whole night looking over everything you and the rest of the scientists have ever found out about this virus. You didn’t know its way of transmission. Maybe you had nothing to worry about, maybe it’s not by blood. You knew it’s not by air, you’ve seen plenty of people infected whose family was fine. So even if you do get infected, the people at the lab should be fine. Your friends would be fine. He would be fine. 

Next, incubation period. That’s a tough one, in-vitro studies show it takes the virus anywhere from 2 to 12 months to show symptoms. You don’t know how that changes in humans. You don’t know any of this shit for humans. You could be perfectly fine, you could die within the month. The thought made your blood run cold. 

You sat in your chair for the remainder of the night. Unmoving, unthinking. 

That’s how Norm found you.

“Hey, Ace. What are you doing up?”

You scrambled for a lie.

“Just woke up, actually. Listen, if you are going to check on the boy, can you please bring my supplies to the tent and tell the Sullys I won’t be in today? I was too exhausted to run any experiments yesterday so I will do it today.” 

“Oh… is everything alright? You haven’t missed a day in the village since you got your Avatar.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just worried about the boy and want to get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later, if possible.”

“Alright, I can bring you back some of his blood to run as well?”

“NO!” 

Norm’s eyes widened in shock at your response and you knew you fucked up, you knew you slipped up. Calm yourself… 

“It’s just not necessary at the moment since I have other blood and I don’t want to overwhelm him, if it’s not imperative. I will retrieve some blood when I check on him tomorrow.”

Norm looked at you with a concerned look, but eventually relented.

“Ok, whatever you think, Ace.” 

“Thanks, Norm.” 

“Let me know what you find tonight. I’ll tell Jake, but they might not be happy with you.”

“You can explain it’s an emergency, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

 

You struggled to get up and get your legs to not want to collapse beneath you. Eventually, you made your way to the sink and washed, you scrubbed your face as hard as you could without removing a layer of skin, and your teeth until you felt the familiar taste of metal coat your teeth. You hoped that maybe you tried hard enough, the last 6 hours can just be erased from your life, from world. You hoped it could undo the damage that would plague you for the rest of your most likely very short life. 

Luckily, most scientists seemed to be out. Claire was teaching Na’vi kids English at Grace’s old school that Jake deemed fit to be reopened, Max left with Norm to check on the situation of the village, and most of the Avatars would be out on missions or training with Jake. You made your way to the quiet halls to one of the labs, and prepared for your long day ahead. This will be hard to do by yourself, but not impossible. 

First step, respiratory fluids. You remove a sterile cotton swab and swab your pharynx as thoroughly as possible and place it in a tube. That’s easy enough. Next comes the blood. Finding a vein has always been hard for people to do on you, and it’s not gotten any easier in time, so after poking yourself a few times in the wrong place, you manage to get enough blood to run experiments on. 

Hours of sample preparation, incubation, pipetting and running went by at an excruciatingly slow pace, like the universe was revelling in making every second of torture last forever. You thanked your lucky stars of the progress made in lab equipment and that you didn’t have to spent days on one PCR, like your mum was saying it had to be done back on Earth about a century ago. Regardless, it took most of the day for you to do everything you needed, check for all the proteins and markers you knew were deregulated with this virus, and by the early hours of night, you were done. 

Aș people were starting to return to the hub as another day was nearing its end, you retreated back to your bedroom to work on the data analysis. You did not want to see anyone, did not want to speak to anyone until you knew at least some things. The less you talked, the less lies that had to come out of your mouth, and that seemed ideal to you. 

Inputting the data and having to wait on some software to give you your literal death sentence felt so tragic is was almost comical, and you had to stop and ask yourself if you were some serial killer in a past life to warrant all the pain and misery life seemed adamant to throw at you. For the first time in so long you couldn’t even remember, things were going… well. You were strong, and doing well, and lived outside of the walls of this lab. You had a chance at something more, you had a chance at maybe one day healing and working through your issues and maybe even coming out the other side a better, healthier version of yourself. You had a chance at love.

And there it was… positive. One second.

THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF  STAGE I: DENIAL

Your blood became poison in the span of half a day, but at least you now knew it wasn’t transmitted through air. That means no one else would have to suffer because of you. The thought made you weirdly calm, and you realised you didn’t care about your own health all along. No, you weren’t sad anymore, just relieved. A wide smile appeared on your face at the results, and you jumped out of the chair with enthusiasm at the great news. Everybody would be ok. Norm, Max, they would all be ok. You will handle all the virus experiments and blood samples from now on. They wouldn’t have reason to doubt you or question you, not when it made most sense anyway, since you were always in the village and knew the protocols and techniques the best, anyway. You would go on the same way as you had, and no one had to know or suffer because of your mistakes. 

With those thoughts still floating in your mind and a Xanax on your tongue, you made your way to the comfortable bed and crashed without a dream in sight. 

You were up before dawn again, and ready to get started on your day at the village. You were looking forward to gun training with Jake, and finally putting those years of practice to good use. You found Norm deep in thought in the link room, and he didn’t register you walking in until you patted his shoulder and he jumped out of his skin.

 

“Jesus, Ace. You scared the shit out of me.” 

“I noticed. Why so jumpy, Norm?” 

He gave you the quickest look known to man then quickly busied himself with literally anything else. “No reason, just focused on the task at hand.”

“…turning on the linkpod?” 

“No one likes a smartass, you know?” 

“So how was the village yesterday? How is the boy?” 

“He’s alright, still not great, but his vitals are stable for now.” You noticed he did not answer your question about the village, and found slight panic rising in your chest.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen in the village?” 

“No, Ace, everything’s fine. You don’t have to worry about everything, you know. How did the experiments go yesterday?” 

“The virus is not airborne, it seems to be transmitted by blood, so we need to be very careful handling samples.” 

“We always are. But good work, good to have some concrete evidence finally. I’ll look over your analysis soon.”

“You know, I’m not quite done with it, so maybe wait and we can look over it together?”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

You didn’t buy Norm’s pathetic attempts at deflecting the subject of the village, but you did not want to fight him so early in the day, so you guess you had to find out what happened for yourself. You woke up in your Avatar body soon enough, and could already tell the village was already awake and buzzing with the perspective of a new day. The guitar sitting on the ground next to your sleeping mat caught your eye, and you smiled softly at the memory which now seems a life away. Your fingers lingered on the chords and you strummed it gently a few times, enjoying the sounds that seemed to settle in your heart. Adjusting your braids in the small mirror you brought with you a few weeks ago, you made your way out of your tent and straight into Neteyam’s chest with a loud thud. 

“What the fuck?” You say, indignantly and then look up to find Neteyam watching you with an unreadable expression adorning his beautiful face. 

“Hi.” He says, and tries to muster a small smile. 

“Hi…? Is there any particular reason you have decided to attack me first thing in the morning?” 

“I was just coming to get you, I heard the guitar playing. I didn’t think you would be running straight into me. Are you ready? We can spend the morning tracking a herd of Talioang that the hunter party spotted a few clicks south of the village. It will be good practice for you.” 

“…alright? Can I get some food first? I’m famished.”

Neteyam shifted uncomfortably in front of you and looked… nervous, you realised. What the hell was going on with everyone?

“I have food that Ma packed for us, we can eat in the forest? I’d really rather get a move on as soon as possible, this will most likely take most of today, anyway.”

“Is there a particular reason you seem so eager for me to leave? You and Norm have both been acting weird today, and you are both terrible liars.”

Neteyam gave you a hard look. “Let’s go, Y/N. Unlike what you like to think, you don’t need to know everything, and not everything concerns you. Let’s go, now.” Nothing’s changed, you realised bitterly. Last night was just a fluke and you hated yourself in that moment for letting your guard down. 

“You can be a real dick sometimes, Neteyam.” You said and took off without looking at him. 

You ran for about 5 clicks without checking behind you, knowing full well he was following you, your hearing being one of the many senses that heightened in this body. You stopped suddenly at the sight of a huge footprint, one you could identify as the Sturmbeest, or a Talioang, like it was known to the Na’vi. Soon enough, you saw the ground littered with them, and began carefully tracking the beasts.

“Alright. How far would you say they are and which direction?” Neteyam asked, approaching you slowly. He was back to teaching mode, and you tried your best to learn, instead of recoiling and telling him to go to hell, which is what you really wanted to do. 

You touched the ground and felt it with your fingers, trying to assess the moisture level and deepness of the mark. You thought about for a while.

“I’d say they’re quite fresh. Maybe this morning? Taloioang move slowly, about 1 click every hour or two, so I’d say we’ll find them about 2 clicks east?”

He didn’t even have to touch the ground to be able to assess it. He was impressive. 

“Good. Let’s go. We shouldn’t run, they have good hearing and the wind is blowing east, which means they’ll be able to smell us if we’re not careful. We will take a roundabout way and approach them from the south.” 

You both made your way through the forest and it was your turn to follow him, although you stayed close behind and tried to look around you and pick up on clues, tiny sounds and movements, trying to learn, trying to see. “Eyes on the tracks, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes, but did as you were told. Eventually, Neteyam let you deem the appropriate time to stray from the tracks and move south to avoid being spotted. Soon enough, you saw the herd of prodigious beings, bathing in a shallow lake. You made your way slowly, sneaking on the ground, with Neteyam close to you, and you felt his arms grazing your sides every inch of the way. 

The herd was protecting the calves, 5 in total, playing and splashing in the clear water. You watched in amazement, just enjoying the view of these seemingly ferocious beasts that in the moment, felt more like a family watching their children play at the local pool. You couldn’t believe the beauty and mild predisposition, the complex nature of these animals whose equivalents were long gone on Earth, long decimated by humans and their needless desire for wealth and acquisition, for mindless cruelty. You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that soon, this could be Pandora, if you didn’t fight will all your being in the upcoming war. 

You felt a sudden gentle pressure on your lower back, a pressure you quickly identified as Neteyam’s hand and you shuddered at the touch. He neared his mouth to your ears, and you felt his warm breath tickling your neck, a sudden warmth pooling in your lower abdomen. 

“You’re not allowed to kill anything yet, but I want you to show me how you would go about it. Show me your bow work, how would you aim from this position.”

You slowly removed your bow from from your person and sat up, in a now crouched stance, and loaded the arrow, doing your best to accommodate for the uncomfortable position you were in and the tight space you were sharing with another person. You held your breath, engaged your core, and aimed as if you were going to release your arrow on the target about 300m away. Neteyam’s large hand touched your upper thigh, by your left hip and squeezed gently. Your arm dropped suddenly and snapped your head in his direction. He didn’t react to your sudden snap, instead talking lowly, so as to not give your location away. “Your leg is not in a position by which you can maximise release. You will have more power in the shot if you place this knee on the ground and lean into it.” 

You wanted to take that hand and either break it or redirect it on other parts of your body that felt like they would explode if they didn’t feel him, have his touch provide the relief that was desperately yearned for, needed. You wanted to scream at him or make him coax the screams out of you like a war-cry, wild and desperate. You wanted to kill him, you wanted him to kill you, slowly and painfully, taking his time on your body until you were falling apart at the seams around him. You hated him, you loved him. You hated him.

You gave him a hard look, an angry look directed at your thigh, and he removed his hand from you. You wondered if he knew, knew what he was doing, wondered if he felt the same way, if he too was struggling to catch his breath at the torture of knowing he can’t have you, claim you, right now, right in this second, right here. You hoped he did, hope it ate him alive, the yearning and the desire. Because that’s what it was doing to you, what he was doing to you. You turned your attention back to the herd and adjusted your position based on his advice. He was right, you could tell right away, as you felt a lot more power when aiming the arrow this time. 

“Much better. We can go now, we will give the location to the hunting party and the will be able to secure us dinner for a couple of weeks from the back of a couple of Ikrans.”

 

You made your way out of their surroundings, and slowly started walking back to the village. After about half an hour, he stopped on a rock and removed the food he was carrying in a pouch. You didn’t join him, preferring to keep your distance and thus a clear mind, not being able to afford being weak around him anymore. 

“I thought you were famished.” He says, with a slight smile. You shook your head and turned around, taking in the views of the forest, distracting yourself with the flowers reaching out their neon green tendrils towards you. You kneeled next to one, and touched them gently, enjoying the way they cupped around your hand and tugged, like they were urging you to come closer so they can spill their long-forgotten dreams to you. You heard him sigh loudly.

“Sorry for being a dick. Just had a fight with mum and dad, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have, and I am sorry. Come eat, please? I don’t want you passing out on me, you’re not as easy to carry as you used to be when you were human.” 

You remained on your knees still, focused on only the plants and your gentle tug-of-war. You knew how much pressure Neteyam was under, has been for pretty much his entire life. A prodigy created… or made, no one could really know for sure, he began training when most babies learn to walk, and speak, and play. He has never had a childhood the way Lo’ak, or Kiri, or Tuk, or pretty much any other Na’vi children did, mostly fleeting moments of bliss in between a lot more moments of stress and struggle. He never complained, though. Not out loud, not to anyone else but you, once he realised you were a safe haven from the storm. You didn’t pass judgement, or make him feel bad for sharing his feelings, and he felt like he could tell you all the hardest truths his heart has always craved to speak out loud. You have always wanted to protect him from the world, a world that demanded so much of him, that asked for a sacrifice of which it was undeserving. Being Olo’yektan, leading the people, being the one person everyone relied on was a great honour, a great achievement - one you didn’t think he wanted, but was never given the chance to decline. 

“What happened?” 

You walked slowly towards the rock he was laying on, and sat at its foot, crossing your legs on the slightly damp grass. You grabbed a piece of jerky from the pile of food and slowly chewed through it, humming in appreciation at the smoky taste and rich flavour of the meat. 

Neteyam grimaced and didn’t look at you, choosing to focus instead of his arm guards, picking at something that was clearly not there. “More sacrifices I need to make in the name of the future, of the people.” 

“I see you still haven’t learnt to say no, even after all this time apart.” 

Neteyam’s hand froze in midair, his eyes widening slightly - it was the first time you brought up the year apart. He braced himself for what he thought was the beginning of the end, of you finally demanding answers he didn’t think would ever satisfy you, but no other words left your lips.  

“I can’t say no. I owe my parents everything I have, everything I am. This village, this life, is all I know. My dad gave up on everything he knew to stand up for our people, to make sure we’d get a future worth living, a family worth saving, a world still worth fighting for. He became Olo’yektan despite all that stood against him because he loved my mum, loved us, even then, even before we were born. My grandpa died defending this village, watching home tree get decimated in front of his eyes, with only the people’s safety on his mind and tongue. I see that bow that my mum cherishes like a gift from Eywa herself and I want to be worthy of it, someday. And if it means giving up some things, maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be.” 

“Maybe whatever you’re giving up is making room for something ever better, Neteyam. Sometimes we want something so bad, we can’t see the forest for the trees.” 

He looks at you confused for a second.

“That’s a saying. What I’m trying to say is maybe you are over focused on something you want right now, that you think is the best thing for you, but maybe you just are not focusing on the bigger picture. Maybe in the future, whatever you’re giving up now will make room for something that was much better for you all along.”

Disappointment filled his chest at your words. Neteyam looked at you with deep sadness marking his features, and he could see you were trying to think of things to say that could make him feel better. In all honesty, he wanted - needed - you to tell him to be selfish, and trust his gut, and follow what he knew was right in his heart, but he also knew that being selfish is not a trait that came naturally to you. You have always respected the deep bond Neteyam had to his family and his people and you always used to tell him how proud of him you were for how strong he was, for the lengths he was willing to go to to protect and nurture those bonds. 

You felt an overwhelming sense of grief at the realisation that you will never get to see him become Olo’yektan, see him become the man everybody knew he was. He would never be yours, and although that painful conclusion had settled in your soul and had time to scar in all the time you knew him, a new wound, deeper, bloodier, deadlier, tore your heart apart at the thought you would not even be able to watch from afar. You would have been satisfied with scraps, just watching him rule, and be, and love someone else and imagining it was you. You never thought you’d get more than that anyway, never had any delusions for more. The scraps would have been enough, and now even those were brutally taken from you, like everything else in this life. 

You needed to leave, now. 

“Should we head back? It’s getting late.”

You walked back in deep, uncomfortable silence. Eclipse made the nature shine and glimmer with colours your sadness dulled to muted tones. There was light coming from the village and you realise how badly you wanted to be alone, in your tent and read, or watch a movie or a show, and ignore this world for a little while while you licked your newly-opened wounds. Tonight was a communal dinner around the big bonfire in the centre of the village, and you felt grateful your presence would not be missed in such a crowd. You’ve come to love these dinners, another one of the many ways the tribe connected to the village and to each other, but tonight you couldn’t entertain even the thought long enough to count.

“Can you please tell your family I am sorry, but I will probably head to bed early. I’ll be early for breakfast tomorrow, I promise.” 

“I can do that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded absentmindedly and closed the flap of the tent shut.

Neteyam watched as you left him, still reeling from your conversation. Much like you, he just wished to hide in his family’s tent and pretend for a night things are different, that they are better. Actually, if we are talking about wishes, he wishes he could be in your tent. In all honestly, dealing with you on a day to day basis, seeing you, your body, touching it more and longer than he knew he reasonably had to, was making him think thoughts he knew he had no business thinking. In his wildest dreams, he’d be in your tent and making your eyes roll back in the way that drove him crazy. In his wildest dreams, he’d be coaxing sounds out of you that only he would ever hear. In his wildest dreams, your hands all over him would heal him and break him at the same time. He was desperately in need of some relief, and he loathed all decisions in his life that lead to you not being able to be the one to provide it for him. 

He made his way to the bonfire, and greeted all of the Na’vi that respectfully bowed their heads at his arrival. He saw his family at the centre of the crowd, where they normally sat, and joined them silently. They all gave him uneasy looks - all but one. Lo’ak was blatantly glaring at the older Sully, a look of disappointment and disgust marring his normally kind face that reminded Neteyam so much of their dad. 

“Did you tell her?” 

Kiri elbowed Lo’ak in the abdomen, but he didn’t flinch. He did not even bother to acknowledge Kiri, or the low hiss escaping their mum’s lips - his eyes were still boring into Neteyam, unwavering. 

“No.” Neteyam’s expression darkened and in a split second, he became the warrior his dad moulded him into. “And you will not, either, Lo’ak. Do you understand me?” Lo’ak had to look up to look at his brother who was now dangerously towering over him. 

“Oh, the mighty warrior giving out orders, what else is new?” 

“Lo’ak, that’s enough.” Neteyam heard Jake intervene, and he eventually had to physically put his body in between his two sons, who still refused to look away from each other.

“Fnawe’tu (coward).”

 

Neteyam watched his brother turn his back on his family and walk away from the feast, and although he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he knew deep down that Lo’ak was right.

 

You were almost robotically flipping through the directory of movies and tv shows on the laptop that you had with you in the village, not quite ready to go back to the lab and have to deal with the consequences of your newly acquired “condition”. You had all night to do experiments, and lie to yourself that you were fine until you eventually succumbed to a Xanax-induced blackout. You wanted to be in this body just a little while longer, because, in this body, it was easy to forget the realities of your actual life.

You saw a five-fingered hand emerge from the entrance to your tent, and you laughed incredulously at the clown you loved, who seemed to have a knack for improving your dour mood.

“I am here to bother you.” You got up and started making your way towards the entrance of your tent.

“Shouldn’t you be at dinner?” You say, laughing and pulling Lo’ak by the hand, so he stumbles unattractively into you. 

You wrap your arms around him and hug him gently. “Skxawng.” 

“I should, but I am here instead. We haven’t had movie night in so long.” He lay on your sleep mat and you hissed for him to move over. “You’re getting way too comfortable hissing at people.”

“Not people, Lo’ak, you!” You smiled saying that, knowing you were quoting Kiri, and he groaned exasperatedly. 

A few more weeks passed, and you felt the discrepancy between your bodies become more pronounced than it had ever been. It turns out, the incubation period of a Na’vi virus in a human is not long at all, and roughly around last week, you began displaying symptoms. You were taking every drug under the sun to try to soften them, but you had seen one too many good Na’vi people die due to this to know what was lurking underneath the comfortable cushion of drug-induced health. Despite all that, you felt on top of the world in your avatar. You were continuously improving, and, with a little bit of luck, will be completing your first kill soon - the first stepping stone to becoming Taronyu, hunter. If you do that successfully, you will be taking your Iknimaya with other Na’vi apprentices, and finally get your own Ikran. You were buzzing at the thought, and the image of you flying in the sky was enough to push any other worries out of your mind. 

After that weird day that ended with Lo’ak in your tent watching Friends together and teaching him the chords to a song you both loved, things went back to normal, sort of. You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the Sullys were hiding something from you. They exchanged looks, and avoided certain subjects, and you were starting to be worried they guessed you were ill, and were tiptoeing around the subject so as to not upset you. That was a good theory, although it could not explain the heavy tension between Neteyam and Lo’ak that also started that night. 

You saw them bicker and fight your whole life: two opposing personalities, both of whom had misunderstandings about the other. Neteyam could never understand Lo’ak, understand that, despite being the chieftain’s son and the grandson of the Tsahik and former Olo’yektan, people still looked at him like he was not quite full Na’vi. His eyebrows and five fingers made his appearance uncanny enough to always attract whispers and looks, and despite Lo’ak’s apparent devil-may-care attitude, he cared. Neteyam could also not understand anyone who wished to live freely and discover themselves, make decisions and choices that would lead to a happy, fulfilled life, rather than a proud and accomplished one. Finally, Neteyam did not understand that skill and tenacity doesn’t come easy to everybody, and the weight of living in his shadow was bearing heavily on his baby brother’s back. 

On the other hand, Lo’ak never tried to understand the burden Neteyam had to carry, because, in his desire to not appear weak, he took it in strides and never complained. Lo’ak never fully understood the downfalls of what being “the perfect son” brings: no freedom, no childhood, no time, no fun, no choice. He only ever focused on the positives: praise from his family and clan, skill and composure, the title of future Leader of the Omatikaya. He will also never be able to understand the depths of Neteyam’s love for him, who, despite all their differences, would be willing to sacrifice everything, even his own life, to make sure his baby brother would never having to experience these burdens.

This tension felt like more. More than you’ve ever seen, not mended in time, they were always glowering at each other and only speaking to each other if prompted or forced by their increasingly frustrated family. You tried to talk to both of them individually and ask, but you were promptly sent on your way each time. You could tell Lo’ak was itching to spit it out, but every time he got close, he flashed you a look of hurt and fear, and moved on. 

Eventually, you stopped worrying about it. It will come out in time, and you had better things to worry about. Your training became brutal after that day tracking Sturmbeests. Neteyam would come to your tent before dawn, sometimes having to wait for you while you woke up in your Avatar body, and you were always gone past eclipse. You were tracking, joining hunting parties to learn, working on shooting arrows while on Pa’li or in nearly impossible positions (he made you shoot targets hanging upside down from the branches of trees, seriously) and working on guns and practicing with Jake and his soldiers. Jake made you his second-in-command during these sessions, and you enjoyed having the roles reversed and having to watch Neteyam squirm every time you touched his arm, or waist, or thighs, in order to adjust his shooting form. You also taught Lo’ak, sometimes late in the nights, where he would sneak into your tent and ask you questions about guns that he hoped would bring him in his father’s good graces for once in his life. You loved teaching them, and you felt powerful with all the eyes on you, trying to absorb every piece of information coming out of your mouth. 

“In your hands, you are holding a sub machine-gun.” You said and you made your way through the 10 soldiers in your midst. “It can fire up 600 rounds per minute. You have a button on the side of the weapon, as you can see right there”, you stopped and show everyone on your own weapon, “that allows you to choose between semi automatic and fully automatic. What’s the difference, Lo’ak?”

“A semi-automatic guns fires one shot when you pull the trigger, a fully automatic gun fires continuously until you release the trigger.” 

“Tsantu (good guy)!” you said with an intimate smile. Lo’ak was making amazing progress, and you were proud to be even a small reason why. 

Neteyam gave Lo’ak a hard look as he answered your question. He was angry with his brother because of his recent attitude, he thought. That’s the reason. Not at all because you were smiling at him with that dazzling smile that used to be reserved for him years ago, definitely not because he knew Lo’ak was sneaking in your tent at night and doing Eywa-knows-what, a fact which kept Neteyam up nights with images he would do everything in his power to be able to erase from his brain. Neteyam was exhausted. He hasn’t slept since this thing started, not until Lo’ak returned to his tent after his meetings with you, and he was able to look at him in the dim light of the night and gauge for himself if his brother was flushed, or panting, or extra happy for one reason or another. Despite never seeing anything that he could deem suspicious, the images of his baby brother taking for himself what was his, what should be his, haunted him and made him sick to his stomach. 

Coward. Lo’ak words rang in his ears incessantly throughout each day, never being able to fully block them out. 

Neteyam saw you move from Lo’ak and towards him, and tried to remember what they were talking about. Sub-machine guns, right. 

“Now, SMGs are best used in tighter quarters or close to mid-range. The spread will make it inefficient for long-range. If you find yourself on the back of your Ikran shooting at a plane or Valkyrie, make sure you close the gap between you or use your bow, instead.”

“An SMG will have a lot of recoil, making it harder to shoot accurately, but there are a few tips you can use to make to improve your aim and accuracy.”

“First. Always fire in short bursts, if you are firing on automatic mode. A few shots at a time will make sure the kick is not unmanageable. Two, account for the kick and adjust your aim to compensate. Think of shooting an arrow and how you always take the wind, its direction, speed and power in consideration before you actually release. It’s a similar principle. The recoil will make the gun kick upwards, so always aim slightly lower than what you want to hit. Three, don’t aim for the head. Leave that for a bow or an assault/sniper rifle with a scope. Aim for the abdomen and chest, since that is a wider target and more likely to hit. Everyone on the same page?”

Neteyam was forever in awe of you, but it was particularly impressive watching you now. You were confident and powerful and knowledgeable. Neteyam felt bad admitting it, but you were a much better teacher than their dad ever was. Toruk Makto had many incredible qualities, but his patience was definitely not amongst them, and his lessons tend to get a bit derailed by his inability to understand that Na’vi are not predisposed to guns or understanding Sky People technology. You were calm, and kind, and funny, and you made it easy for everyone to follow your instructions. In the span on a few weeks, all of the Na’vi and Avatar soldiers training for the upcoming war became better at pretty much every aspect that they were training in, and I think everyone felt just a bit more comfortable about the conflict that was soon to befall them, with you by their side. 

After the lesson was complete, you left alongside Lo’ak, sparing one last look in Neteyam’s direction. He was already watching you, and you saw a fleeting angry look that was quickly replaced with an expressionless mask. He was getting good at that, you thought. 

“Do you want to do anything? If I have to listen to Kiri talk about all the new types of flowers and plants and shit she keeps finding in the woods, I will lose my mind.”

“Be nice.” 

Kiri has been particularly hyperfixated on her newfound discoveries recently, and you tried your best to pay attention to every time she was describing them, in detail, but in reality you were always so exhausted by the time dinner came around that you were only assimilating about a tenth of all the words coming out of her mouth. You felt bad, and made a mental note to dedicate a couple of days to your friend that you saw less and less each week. 

“Your Iknimaya is getting closer and closer each day, how do you feel?”

“Honestly I haven’t thought about it that much, just taking it one day at a time.”

“I think you should start thinking about it, cause it’s going to happen. You’ve managed to blow everyone’s expectations out of the water. It barely been two months since you got your avatar body, not even my dad did this so fast. You were made for this, Angel.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were grateful for Lo’ak’s faith in you, but with everything happening in your human body, it felt pointless looking towards the future. 

“You will be one of us, soon. I’ve had dreams about this my whole life, you know? It’s like I manifested your Avatar, Norm should be thanking me.” 

“Lo’ak…” 

You didn’t like the turn this conversation took, and felt an uncomfortable twinge settle in your chest at his words. 

“There are perks that come with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Fuck. 

Neteyam was making his way back to the village with the rest of the soldiers, casually chatting to one of the Avatars returning with them. He wasn’t paying attention to the way until his body knocked into one of the Na’vi walking in front of him. Utsou was staring intently at a scene unfolding in front of him, a scene that turned Neteyam’s blood to shards of glass, leaving cuts and bruises along his entire body. It was you, smiling, running your hand up and down Lo’ak’s arm whilst his hand was cupping your face and caressing your cheek. It was such an intimate interaction, it felt wrong to everyone there to even be able to witness it, and Neteyam felt himself becoming nauseous. With the image now seared into his memory and rage turning his breaths to pants, he turned around and left everything - everyone - behind. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @hayhay9091

[wolfpants]

10 smutty dialogue scenes/quotes

I was tagged by the lovely @tenthousandyearsx to share 10 smut/pre-smut dialogue scenes! You can read her delicous selection here!

Rules: pick any ten fics, select some smut or pre-smut dialogue, and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, feel free to share anyway!

Some of these are quite chunky, my guys don't always do a lot of talking. A lot of bossing around though 👀

Mix of pairings, listed next to the quote.

Click for satan

From: Romp and Circumstance Drarry

Harry swallows hard. “McLaggen doesn’t seem like—”

“The submissive type? Potter, you judge too hastily,” Malfoy breathes, rolling his hips. Harry’s hard cock rubs up against the inside of Malfoy’s tightly clothed thigh, an aching throb that makes Harry feel like he has a hand around his throat, cutting off the blood supply to his head. 

Merlin. Sixth year Malfoy, eighth year Malfoy, this Malfoy. 

This is the Malfoy that’s been hiding himself away for so long?

What a waste, Harry thinks helplessly, swallowing back the bitterness of having to hand this over to McLaggen when their agreement is over.

Purred, “I could turn any man into the submissive type.”

“Yes, you could,” Harry breathes.

-

From: Tiny Home Dronarry

“Does Harry do this to you?” Draco asks him, licking his lips.

Ron tries to nod—Draco can feel the minute movement of it—but when he realises he can’t do it properly, he huffs his acknowledgement instead. 

Warmth pools low in Draco’s belly at the image; Harry, perhaps behind Ron, a fistful of his hair as he pushes into him, strong and good—so fucking good, Draco knows this—Ron’s back arched, his cheeks flushed strawberry-pink as he’s fucked to within an inch of his life.

“I forgot to cut it.” Draco repeats Ron’s words back at him, his tone darkly playful. “Sure, Weasley. You forgot.”

“Fuck,” Ron breathes. “Draco.”

-

From: Under Giant Mountains Drarry

Malfoy tilted his head to look at him, breathless, his lips pink and shiny with spit.

“Potter?”

“I—”

Malfoy wrapped his hand fully around Harry’s prick, stroking slowly. Harry had to grit his teeth to stop himself from coming on the spot, had to bite down on the words poised to leave his throat.

I’ve never—

There’d been no one since Smith, that last spring at Hogwarts.

Malfoy pushed his hands against the bench and stood up in one fluid motion, until their faces were barely an inch apart. He grinned at Harry, rubbing the tips of their noses together. Harry puddled, at his mercy, and gripped the edge of the bench harder when Malfoy lifted his hips and helped him out of his pants and joggers fully. He spread Harry’s knees with strong hands, hands that then came up to brace Harry’s throat, to cup his skull and hold it like it was some delicate thing that needed all of his careful, seemingly expert attention. Harry’s chest ached, and he closed his eyes, focusing instead on the heat throbbing between his legs.

“Do you want this?” Malfoy asked him, biting his chin.

“Yes,” Harry hissed, and they kissed again, sinking into it, hot and deep and slow. Malfoy tasted like ale and fresh air.

-

From: If You Show Me Yours Drarry

“You didn’t knock,” Draco says, curling his fingers into the sheets beneath him. He’s still hard, achingly so, his cock tenting his Y-fronts and leaking against the white cotton.

Potter puts a hand on the door, his fingers spread. His other hand, hanging limply by his side, disappears from Draco’s view.

Draco swallows.

“I’m getting revenge,” Draco adds archly once he’s found his voice again. “Tit for tat.”

Tat for tat.

“That’s a low blow, Malfoy,” Potter breathes. 

-

From: All Hues in his Controlling Drarry

Draco spins Harry around and presses him against the wall in the hallway. It’s covered in rich green wallpaper he’d picked out carefully from Liberty of London, ensuring it complimented the drapes just so. 

Harry moans, cheek pressed against the wall, hips tilted back, arse perfectly positioned against Draco’s crotch.

“Do you feel that?” Draco murmurs, one hand on Harry’s waist, the other digging gently into his thick curls on the crown of his head.

Draco rubs himself over Harry, dragging his clothed cock up and down, back and forth, slowly, slowly. “I’m going to have you riding this like a seasoned whore by the time I’m done with you.”

-

From: The Hollow Remus/Draco

“Fuck… Draco, I—ah—” 

Remus continues to grip Draco’s waist in his other hand, sliding it down to his hip, sharp beneath those heavy, restrictive layers.

Draco Malfoy, prim and proper and buttoned up to the wrists and jaw, pulling him off with painful, sublime precision.

It’s obscene. It’s incredible.

“No talking,” Draco is saying, gripping Remus tighter, stroking him faster.

“You—don’t, ah—mean that,” Remus says dizzily, his body curving.

“No talking.”

-

From: Enterrement de vie de garçon Riktor, Drarry, Deamus

“We get like this. Sometimes,” Ron admits.

“Ah,” Viktor says, his eyes roving over Ron’s chest where it peeks out the water, his red hair gone dark with it. Viktor’s ponytail is sagging even more now, loose strands of hair curling at his throat. He is extraordinarily handsome. “I like it. It’s fun.”

Ron swallows. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes, really. They’re kissing after that, relearning each other’s mouths after five years, and it’s—surprisingly easy.

-

From: The Night Before Drarry

Draco clears his throat. “Hi,” he says, eyes still closed.

Harry bites back a grin. “Hi.”

That thigh inches closer, now rubbing against his own, and Harry groans as it brushes against his hard cock, the erection he woke up with.

“Hi,” Draco says with a low laugh, cloudy grey eyes opening a slit.

Harry snorts. “Hi.” He shuffles closer, any anticipated awkwardness melting away between them. Draco slides a hand over his side, pulling Harry half atop him.

“My breath smells,” Harry says. 

“I don’t care,” Draco murmurs, and he lifts his head to kiss him with impossibly warm lips.

-

From: Obedience Drarry

“Are you nervous about being hard in front of all these people?” Draco asks him hotly. “And not being able to do anything about it?”

“No,” Harry says, swallowing.

Draco hums. “You’re so good for me.” He drops his hand from Harry’s chest. “You’ll meet me outside after. Immediately.”

“Yes,” Harry says.

“Do you belong to me, Harry?” Draco asks, a soft whisper.

“Yes,” Harry breathes.

He spares Draco a quick glance. His grey eyes are alight, his cheeks rose-pink. 

Draco presses a single, gentle kiss to the corner of Harry’s lips. “Break a leg, darling.”

-

From: Nightcall Drarry

“I’m on the tip of Skye looking at the North Atlantic. I’m very alone. I can’t even remember the last time I saw a tree.”

“Then,” Draco huffs gently—an inhale, a sharp exhale, the sound of his shoes clicking against pavement. He’s walking through the hedge maze. “Fuck you.”

Harry licks his lips. “Yeah?” He cups himself over his leather trousers. Slides his thumb over the shifting head of his cock as it grows closer towards his hip.

Draco hums, deep and smooth. Harry tilts his hips up in a slow simulated fuck against his own fingers, heat spreading, sharp and singular, between his legs. “God I want you,” he rasps.

Tagging @lumosatnight @danpuff-ao3 @oknowkiss @sweet-s0rr0w @tackytigerfic @thehoneybeet and anyone who wants to share really!!

[m-jelly]

Hello! ❤️

For your winter event can I please request a SFW first date with Erwin. I’ll try to make it short!

You’ve been sent on a blind date at the Christmas market. You decide to wait at a nice looking coffee stall which belongs to one of Erwin’s friends. 👀 He happens to be there helping them run it on that day, and he talks to you as you wait. Later when you realise that you’ve been stood up you decide to give up and leave. He chases after you and asks you to go on a date with him instead. You end up having a lovely first date exploring the Christmas market together. ❤️ If it gets too long to include the actual date, then no problemo!

As always, change anything you don’t like. 🥰

Something good

Pairing: Erwin x Fem!Reader

Genre and tags: Modern AU, fluff, romance, falling in love, first date, angst, emotional, caring Erwin.

Concept: You chat with the handsome blonde running a coffee stall as you wait for your date, but as time goes on your date doesn't show and you feel humiliated. You go running in shame, but Erwin chases you down and takes you on a romantic date.

Link to event

Erwin felt his heart throbbing in his chest as he gazed at the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen walking over to the stall he was running for his friend. You were wearing a sweet winter coat, hat and scarf. He saw you looking at your phone and texting. He willed you to look up at him and talk to him.

Erwin's cheeks burned when you looked up at him with your bright eyes. He smiled and stumbled closer to where you were. He felt so nervous and he wasn't sure why. He was a CEO and he'd dealt with all kinds of people, but there was just something about you that made him get flustered.

You hummed a little laugh at how flustered the big blonde in a thick turtleneck jumper seemed. "Hello."

Erwin cleared his throat. "Hello, hi, yes, welcome."

You giggled and looked at the menu. "Anything you recommend?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll be honest with you, this stall belongs to my friend Hange. She had to go sort her wife out as she had a tiny accident. A-Anyway, I'm running this for her. So...uh..."

You hummed a laugh. "You're cute." You ordered from the menu and smiled. "I'll have that please."

"S-Sure, give me your name and I'll make it right away!"

You told him your name and watched him for a moment. You looked at your phone and stared at the last message the guy sent you. You nibbled your lip more and felt the anxiety slowly sink in. You looked out at the crowd of people before looking at the time. You were early, but that was normal for you to get to places before you needed to.

Erwin saw you looked anxious. He softly said your name and smiled at you when you turned and faced him. "Your coffee."

You took it from him and smiled. "Thanks."

He offered the card machine and observed you. "Are you okay?"

You let out a long sigh. "I uh...I've been set up on a blind date."

He leaned on the counter. "Ah."

You sighed. "I uh...I'm nervous and anxious. What if he doesn't like me?"

"How can he not?"

You blushed as you gazed at Erwin. "Cute."

He blushed hard. "Names Erwin." He offered his hand. "Lovely to meet you and the guy will adore you."

You shook his hand. "Thanks." You hummed a laugh. "You're really sweet."

"I'm just being honest." He cleared his throat. "So, what do you do? What do you like?"

You leaned against the counter and started talking to Erwin. You smiled and laughed with him as you felt so natural with him. You felt as if you both knew each other for years. You felt so comfortable with Erwin. You could see he felt comfortable with you too. It went so well that you forgot about being nervous.

Erwin frowned a little. "Hey, when is he supposed to be here?"

You looked down at your phone and felt your heart sink. "He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago." You looked around. "Maybe he's late?" You texted the guy saying you were at the spot and if he was okay. "I'll keep waiting." You saw people walk over. "You have customers. I'll stand here."

Erwin smiled at you. "Wait here as long as you like, okay?"

"I really appreciate this, thank you."

You looked at your phone and watched as ten minutes turned to half an hour to forty-five minutes. You felt humiliated. You would have preferred it if he just texted you he wasn't interested instead of standing you up like this. You felt rotten and unlovable. You fought sobs as a lump formed in your throat.

You cleared your throat as best as you could and turned to Erwin. "I'm g-gonna g-go home. S-sorry."

Erwin hurriedly closed up the stall and grabbed his coat before running after you. He called your name to see you looking back at him with tears in your beautiful eyes. He slowed down and panted as he looked down at you.

You rubbed your tears and sniffed. "He stood me up." You shook as you fought your cries. "He fucking stood me up."

Erwin patted his pockets and pulled out a pack of tissues. He pulled you out a fresh one and helped you clean your face. "He messed up. How does a guy let someone like you go? I guess that's why I chased after you. I just can't let you go."

You sniffed. "What about your stall?"

"I've made plenty of money today for my friend. I have something more important to do."

You frowned a little. "What's that?"

He moved closer to you and held your chin. "Taking you out on a date."

Your cheeks burned as you gazed at Erwin. "M-me?"

He nodded. "I'll be honest, if that guy would have shown up I would have still asked you out. You're just..." He let you go and nervously chuckled. "You're too wonderful to let go. We have so much in common, you're fascinating, smart, funny, kind, caring, cute, pretty and you have this dazzling wonder in your eyes that captivates me."

"Erwin, that's so romantic."

"Really?" He sighed. "I'm trying my best. So, do you want to go on a date?"

You nodded. "I'd love to." You smiled brightly and held his hand. "Let's enjoy."

He pulled you along and looked at the different stalls with you. He stopped at a doughnut place and hummed. "They look so delicious. Do you want to share some with me?"

Your eyes lit up in delight. "Please!"

He ordered a couple share one and sat down in the little eating area. He pulled you close to his body and fed you some doughnuts. "I don't know what it is, but warm doughnuts are just the best."

You nodded as you ate. "They're the best kind."

Erwin cleaned your face a little. "What stalls do you wanna see?"

You hummed in thought as Erwin put his arm around you. You snuggled up against him and blushed at his wonderful natural scent and cologne. "I'd like to buy some nice candles, maybe some food and I'm thinking some tea and coffee. You?"

"Same." He lightly rubbed your cheek. "There are so many good foods on here."

You nodded. "It's hard to pick!" You huffed. "If only I had the money."

"I'll treat you."

You blushed a little. "Oh, no I couldn't possibly-."

Erwin hushed you. "Let me. I insist." He cleaned up the area before holding your hand and leading you around the stalls again. He stopped by the candle place and hummed. "Hard to pick."

You picked up a few and smiled. "I think these two are perfect for you."

Erwin sniffed and smiled softly. "Vanilla and sandalwood. I'll buy both." He chuckled as you selected your own. "You know me so well already."

"I'm just observant of very handsome, smart, kind, funny and wonderful men I'm interested in."

Erwin blushed bright red. "Ah, you uh...wow..." He cleared his throat and paid for yours and his candles. "You are getting me rather flustered."

"Good?"

He nodded and took your hand as he held the bag of goods in the other. "Very good." He walked with you. "You know, I don't want this date to end."

You blushed a little. "Well, how about I help you on the stall? I can make coffee."

"I would love that!" Erwin blushed at how enthusiastic he sounded. "O-Only if you want though."

"I want to."

He smiled softly. "Perfect."

You walked to a few stalls and noticed one with baubles on. "Hmm." As Erwin got distracted by a stall, you looked at the baubles and picked one with two snuggling cats in, one black and the other blonde. "Perfect." You paid for it and put it in your coat pocket to gift Erwin at the end.

You walked around with Erwin and let him spoil you. You tried to pay often, but he kept putting his foot down and said you deserve to be spoiled. You laughed and got cuddly with Erwin. You felt heard, cared for and adored by this man. You truly and deeply liked him.

You walked over to his friend's stall and got things ready to serve people. You turned to Erwin and smiled. "Hey, Erwin?"

He gazed at you with his bright ocean-blue eyes. "Yes?"

You grabbed his jumper and pulled him down. You kissed him softly. "Thank you. I had the best date ever today. I do hope we go on many more."

"I-I plan to."

You smiled and put your hand in your pocket and presented Erwin with a box. "I got you something."

Erwin opened the box. "When did you get this?"

You blushed a little. "You were distracted by the fancy pens."

He chuckled. "Ah, well that was good timing." He moved the tissue paper and pulled out the bauble. He blushed as he say a big blonde cat snuggling with a small black cat. He smiled a little. "It's like me and you."

You nodded. "A nice memory of us and a thank you."

Erwin put it back before leaning closer and kissing you. He put the box on the side and cupped your face in his big hands and kept kissing you. He stopped holding your face and yanked you against him by your lower back. He nipped your lip before pushing his tongue into your mouth. He moaned as your tongues moved together.

You and Erwin felt complete as you both kissed each other as the cold winter air tried to grip you both. You both felt so warm and loved as if you were meant to do this for the rest of your lives. You forgot all about your blind date. You were falling in love with Erwin and he was falling faster for you.

Erwin pulled back and tapped his forehead against yours. He panted a little and spoke in a deep voice laced with desire making his chest, pressed against yours, rumble. "You're mine now."

You nodded. "Yes, Erwin." You nibbled your lip as you smirked. "I'm all yours."

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jim! I forgot to say I ship you with Jim. He is your designated silly man ^^

JIM!! Thank you XD 💚💚💚

Oh, this made me realise I have been neglecting him a little while I've been hyperfocused on Callahan (I have already written 3 fics for him. It took me months to write the first for Jim 😅😅 Its just the teacher kink thing I swear, Jim will always be my favourite) and the Titanic!! So I had to write this XD I hope you like it too!

Jim Bickerman x Fem!Bartender!Reader || Drabble

Plot: You're just working your shift at the bar like usual, a regular Thursday night with Jim keeping you company on the other side of the bar, when someone you serve slips you something you didn't ask for back... Luckily Jim's got your back.

Warnings: Use of a date rape drug/roofie, talk of head achiness and a vomit mention. Also unedited.

Tagging: @masqueradeball

A glass slips from your fingers and smashes against the ground; cascading across the wood in every which direction. The heel of your hand moves heavily straight to knead your forehead and you groan,; closing your eyes. God, you suddenly have the worse headache... and you're so sleepy...

Did you really drink that much??... you think, trying to recall but struggling to even think through the fog in your brain. You usually drink a little bit with the customers, but not nearly enough to... ah... hurts...

"Fuck," You breath, breathing slowly. And you hear a familiar voice close by, but suddenly everything around you is starting to get blurry. The noises shift and slip away from you- moulding into one. A horrible throbbing inside your head.

Theirs a hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you into the bar and another low voice speaking slowly to you. Something something... it's all going to be okay, something else... come on, I'll look after you. Vaguely you recognise it as a stranger, someone you don't know, suspicious- but you're not strong enough to pull your arm away from him. Somewhere in you theirs a voice screaming not but you give one slow nod anyway, giving the okay because you just want to get rid of this headache (A migraine??)- when another presence appears right by you on your side of the bar.

He's close enough that you recognise the rumbling voice of Jim and immediately relax a bit, leaning into his side to stay up on your feet- his voice is far too low for you to gather what he's saying, though. A moment after his voice disappears again- the strangers hand releases you.

His arm wraps around your waist to further hold you up, as your legs are starting to feel weaker and weaker (Or your body is getting heavier and heavier?? God you're so confused... ow... ) and when you turn to rest more securely against his chest he takes your jaw in his hand and guides your face upwards. "Open up your eyes there, sweetheart."

Now that, you heard. Forcing yourself, you manage to crack your eyelids open and see him frowning at you as he takes a glance at your pupils. His own jaw is set and looks really unhappy. "Jim I- I think ate somethin bad... " You mutter to him, confiding in him since he's here now- he'll look after you. You know it. You're safe now.

~

"Jim I- I think I ate somethin bad... " You mumble into his shoulder after he lets your face go and he shakes his head; feeling grim and pissed off as he watches darkly from under the brim of his hat as the weasel who had his hand on you slip right outta the bar- alive. (Of all the nights to not have a gun on me... )

"... Nup, that's not it, sugar." He tells you, glowering at the door now that the bastard is gone. Jim knows he isn't a gold class citizen himself - not by any means. He's done plenty he's not proud of and even more that he is proud of even though he shouldn't be, because he managed to see a pretty check from the deal, - but anyone who does somethin' like this actually deserves to be thrown to fucken crocs. "C'mon, lets getcha some water."

"Mmm, noo, I feel too sick... "

"Thats why you're gettin water, sweetheart. It tastes like junk, trust me I get it but I promise its good for ya."

Frowning like the cutest little drugged up girl, you crack your pretty eyes open again and look up to plead with him. Using up all your energy. "I'll throw up!"

He smirks, he cant help it- you're too sweet. "Little bit a' vomit ain't gonna scare me off. Lets findya a seat."

Taking a deep breath, you give a nod and then hide back in his shoulder- the lights in this bar are too bright and the world is spinning. And the music is too loud and everyone's voices are too loud and the other bartender still shaking up cocktails is too loud... ughhhh...

Jim guides you to a backroom in the bar, which is slightly quieter with the door closed, and sits you down in a ratty old couch before grabbing you a big glass of cold water for you to sip before stepping back- but you tug at his flannel when he tries to step away and he listens; sitting down beside you and letting you curl back into him. "Sweetheart I gotta call 911 now... "

"Do it here with me." Everything still hurts, everything still aches, and vaguely you're aware that this was done to you-- but Jim makes you feel safe, and his flannel is soft, and you need him. "Please."

Luckily he's more then happy to stick by you, nodding and sneaking your phone from your pocket (he doesn't have one) to use with his good hand; squeezing you comfortingly with his hook-arm. "Alright, ehem-- uh, what's the number again??... "

You don't need to look up to groan at him for that wrong-place-wrong-time joke, and his grin goes wider hearing it. (She's still in there, she's okay. She's fine.) "Jimmm... "

Quickly dialing (as fast as he can with one hand), he puts the phone to his ear and blows hair out his cheeks, nervously. Calling this number should be second nature at this point, but when its for you and not himself, the anxiety comes racin' back. (Goddamnit.) "I know sweetheart, I know. Hold on, it wont be long. We'll getcha help and you'll be jussst fine... "

('Miss Sheriff Reba' is gonna get a hell of a report in the morning, that's for fucken sure.)

[smileymoth]

@pikslasrce tagged me to post my top albums from this year :))

senses fail - still searching // armor for sleep - what to do when you are dead // senses fail -let it enfold you hollywood undead - hotel kalifornia // boysnightout - make yourself sick // wilbur soot - your city gave me asthma alesana - the emptiness // bedwetters - meet the f@cking bedwetters // bring me the horizon - sempiternal

do not ask me how many times i've listened to these 9 albums idon't even know myself. it's way too much though. i couldn't put all 4 boysnightout albums here so i just stayed at 1 and put it in the very middle because they altered my brain chemistry <33

senses fail gets 2 albums because i didnt spend weeks only listening to those 2 albums for no reason... their lyrics mean sm to me i want to illustrate the albums or songs one day. this goes for both senses fail and boysnightout btw. AND armor for sleep. there's something about that specific album. i realised i really enjoy albums that tell a story. and the fact that i like themes of angst love blood betrayal etc etc is no surprise either. car underwater got played way too many times

i discovered bedwetters thanks to eurovision, they were one of the options for estonia and i ofc found their old and only album (they released a new one a few weeks ago tho) (i dont know why they have 2 spotify accounts. im not asking). i even got to see them live bc they gave a free concert during summer <33333333 i got a picture with the band too !!!!! so cool

the new hollywood undead album got me back into them so im back to being obsessed. i love my silly california guys :3 i've been keeping up with them since and i desperately need to draw them again, this time without their masks!!!! im very glad that i found alesana to be sooo palatable this year because ive tried to listen to them before when i was a teenager and it just... didn't click, even if i tired. so yeah i get to fix that mistake now.

in spring i had a moment where i listened to sempiternal on repeat on the cd player for multiple days straight and in the past month i've, again, been listening to bmth and specifically sempiternal again so it gets a special place, too.

wilbur is just there because i had jubilee line stuck in my head so so so so much and also it's the best study music ever. also wilbur why is i'm sorry boris so silent. i can barely hear it it makes me angry so i always skip it. and then bc its the end of the album it gives me some lmanburg flag cover-art song that i don't like

anyway here's a special mention to these 3 albums because 1) greeley estates - caveat emptor, i just discovered it this week and i am in love. also greeley estates has been in my radar for quite some time now and i find the singers voice to be very pleasant and interesting? the tone does sth for me 2) brand new - deja entendu, for being stuck in my head for a good week because the tommy gun song wouldn't leave my head since it came on shuffle from my saved mp3 list when net was down 3) just surrender - if these streets could talk, because again i was obsessing over this for like a good week before i forgot about it. good album. not available in serbia tho for some reason

can you tell i love talking about music that i like. i know nothing about music it just makes me happy. :)

anyway i am tagging uhhhh @varteeny1234 and @complicatedsurgery and uhhh @cactusringed and uhhhh anyone else who wants + i'm not gona tag you, sly, because you only listen to alex g anyway <3

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Thanks for the tag @sybill-the-seer <3

Rule: Share the first lines of your ten most recent fics and and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy--share anyway

.

I'll go from most recent to less.

1 - Invisible String

Ginny has known how to write for a whole year when she decides it's time for her to take the story into her own hands, and starts writing about a boy with green eyes, a girl with red hair, and a series of incredible adventures.

2 - Valentine's Switch

Harry looked around the ghastly tea shop decorated for Valentine's Day, the girl he had been crushing on for ages was seated in front of him, and he was seriously starting to reconsider some of his life choices.

3 - Back to the Eclipse

3rd of May

Harry's body ached, and as much as he wished for it to stop, he was glad for the reminder that he was indeed still alive. His eager stomach certainly thought so.

4 - He wasn't sure why

The sun shone on The Burrow, a perfect day for a fly, but despite his best efforts, Harry didn't seem able to shake the terrible mood he had woken up in. His last days of summer appeared destined to be clouded by what he had seen in Knockturn Alley.

5 - I'm sorry too

Ginny was seated on the sofa right in front of the fire with most of the Gryffindor sixth years, two days after the match the euphoria of the win seemed to still be going strong. Dean was on her side and Ron on the other, a rare occasion seeing that since The Incident things between her and her brother had been quite restrained which was honestly unacceptable.

6 - Why wasn't he answering?

They say that when your life ends it all flashes in front of your eyes. Maybe that was why all she could see was Harry. Memories kept trying to push away the devastating sight of Harry's, her Harry, lifeless body in Hagrid's arms.

7 - Don't hate me

Harry fought with his mind to keep control, and once he was able to open his eyes again, he realised there were only him and Ginny in the Room. The last time they had been alone, he had received the best kiss of his life. Somehow he knew that this time things would go very differently. 

8 - Percy and Audrey through the years

Audrey observes him from afar, this guy she is supposed to work with. The old lady who accompanied her until this point has vanished and, while she is not thrilled at the idea of having to introduce herself, she is also slightly glad she is not around anymore seeing that she completely forgot her name a second after she said it.

9 - One day [I kind of hate this one]

It was a warm day in May, and as usual, Harry and Ginny had been able to cut a little time for themselves by the lake. They laid on the grounds, looking in each other's eyes, and Ginny couldn't help but think Heaven must be something of that sort.

10 - The names of Ginny Potter's kids

James

Naming her first son "James" had always sounded like the most natural thing in the world, to the point that she had been quite shocked when her husband had proposed shyly the name during her first pregnancy.

.

Anyone who wants to do this can consider themselves tagged.

[thedeadthree]

— OCS AS A LOVE LANGUAGE.

TAGGED BY: @kingsroad, @chuckhansen, @echo3-1 and @marivenah to take this cutest uquiz for the loves! ty ty <3

TAGGING: @feystepped, @griffin-wood, @risingsh0t, @queennymeria, @denerims, @jendoe, @phillipsgraves, @unholymilf, @morvaris, @aartyom, @jacobseed, @florbelles, @adelaidedrubman, @leviiackrman, @jackiesarch, @loriane-elmuerto, @shellibisshe, @veisshaupt, @aceghosts, @blissfulalchemist, @shadowglens, @malefiicarum, @leondaltons, @pearlcscent, @arklay, @roofgeese and you!

A KNIFE CALLED GRIEF.

You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.

AN UNDOING INFLUENCE.

Can someone tell you what to do? You have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. If someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. You want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.

VIOLENT DEVOTION.

Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?

A STORY THAT ENDS IN BLOOD.

The world has always been unkind, and when you have turned to yourself for comfort you have come face to face with an empty pit which seems to be laughing. You don’t care if it kills you but once you find someone whom you love and who loves you back, you will make sure nothing happens to them. They are yours. You will make a tear in this world and create a new place for you and your love if it comes to that. Because it has always been about love, and it is how it always ends.

CONSUMPTION OF A HEART UNLOVED.

Here’s a dining table, here’s a set of plates. Here’s your heart, red and bursting with love. You have tried to love people all your life, but no one seems to understand you. Your own mother perhaps forgot to teach you how to protect yourself, maybe people whom you trusted chose to look the other way when all you wanted was a hand full of love. All you want is someone to take from you, all you want is someone to dig in your heart and eat it and kiss you afterwards - bloody and red. You want them to tell you that you are what they have been looking for, you want to be the one who ends their hunger.

[marivenah]

What is your OC's love language?

I was tagged by @natesofrellis @socially-awkward-skeleton @echo3-1 and @purplehairsecretlair to do this really interesting uquiz! Thank you for the tags, beloveds 💙

sending out tags to; @sstewyhosseini @risingsh0t @poisonedtruth @hoesephseed @thomrainer @confidentandgood @aceghosts @indorilnerevarine @adelaidedrubman @josephslittledeputy @strangefable @ghastlyrider @noetikat @jackiesarch @jacobseed @leviiackrman @shadowglens @shellibisshe and you!

a story that ends in blood

The world has always been unkind, and when you have turned to yourself for comfort you have come face to face with an empty pit which seems to be laughing. You don’t care if it kills you but once you find someone whom you love and who loves you back, you will make sure nothing happens to them. They are yours. You will make a tear in this world and create a new place for you and your love if it comes to that. Because it has always been about love, and it is how it always ends.

consumption of a heart unloved

Here’s a dining table, here’s a set of plates. Here’s your heart, red and bursting with love. You have tried to love people all your life, but no one seems to understand you. Your own mother perhaps forgot to teach you how to protect yourself, maybe people whom you trusted chose to look the other way when all you wanted was a hand full of love. All you want is someone to take from you, all you want is someone to dig in your heart and eat it and kiss you afterwards - bloody and red. You want them to tell you that you are what they have been looking for, you want to be the one who ends their hunger.

an undoing influence

Can someone tell you what to do? You have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. If someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. You want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.

violent devotion

Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?

a knife called grief

You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything. You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.

[capybaraonabicycle]

@thebadtimewolf: Thank you so much for voting Doctor/TARDIS in @drwho-shipbracket 's tournament!! You didn't send me a preferred Doctor, but you wrote 🖋 in the tags. So I figured you would appreciate a short story nevertheless. I decided to write you something for my second favourite Doctor and her TARDIS. I hope you like it :) (It's a quite angsty and it's about grief, so be mindful about that and stay safe ❤)

Everyone, go vote for Doctor/TARDIS again in the current round!!

The moment her other self has left the TARDIS, the door softly clicking behind her, it all starts to sink in. Lee is dead. Gat is dead. She doesn’t know where Karvanista is, he might as well be dead. The Division is still on her trail and they won’t give up soon. She’s a fugitive, hunted. And she won’t remember her past later on. It is likely that that's because, at a certain point, the Division will succeed in bringing her back.

There is a little hope in the fact that her older self didn’t seem to be working for them anymore. But it is a small comfort when she realises, she will forget them anyway. Lee, Gat, Karvanista. It seems impossible now with the memories clear and bright, returned to her mind. But she knows, with Division, nothing is impossible. She wouldn't put it past them to just make her forget everything when they catch her. One thing is sure: Timelord technology and physiology are both easily capable of deleting memories. Everything in her revolts at the notion. They were her friends, her best friends! She can’t, she mustn’t forget them!

The TARDIS gives a concerned beep at her growing agitated or maybe she’s just warning her that they need to leave, lest they be caught by the Judoon after all. At this point in her timeline, the Doctor isn’t that in tune with her, struggles to understand the sentiments the ship is trying to communicate.

“I know, old girl” she grits out through her teeth, starting the engine. It is more difficult without Lee assisting, even more difficult without Gat on the other side, shouting corrections back and forth and arguing about how this particular ship is to be flown. She misses them.

A leaver moves of its own accord - the one Karvanista always used to pull a little too early. The Doctor’s mouth twitches fondly: the TARDIS is helping her.

They park under a beautiful red and purple nebula. The Doctor searches through the TARDIS rooms until she has found everything: An old shirt of Lee’s, Karvanista’s favourite tea cup and lighter fluid from the Kasaavin-realm, which can burn virtually anything. Together with Gat’s gun, her and the TARDIS have themselves a ceremony.

Sitting on the TARDIS threshold and watching the ashes of their possessions gently float through space, the Doctor mourns her lost companions. She is not one for goodbyes, usually, but the fear that she won’t have another chance drives her to honour them now. The idea that she will forget them, their names, their faces, what they meant to her, that she will even forget she forgot them, hurts so much she can barely cry. She still does, quietly, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks. The TARDIS hums out her mourning, long and low and the Doctor places a hand against the open door, providing comfort as much as searching for it.

“Maybe I am jealous of her” she dares to admit because the TARDIS is the only one hearing her and the TARDIS knows anyway.

How must it be for her, this older Doctor? Who is free, who doesn’t even know the horrors of the Division? Who is surrounded by her new friends? Does she know loss too? Does she know what it is like to feel imprisoned wherever you are? Or is her life just one endless tourist trip, showing off to humans by giving them the Universe?

You are her the TARDIS whispers in her mind or maybe she is just striking the chords of what the Doctor already knows. But is she? Can she ever be this other Doctor when she won’t remember? Won’t remember the Division, won’t remember her friends, won’t remember her life? What will be left of her when she reaches that point?

I will be there the TARDIS promises. And that is the biggest - her only - comfort right now. Because that other Doctor, she had recognised the TARDIS. She must at least remember her, even if they aren’t together anymore. So, there is some part of her that won’t be forgotten. Some part that is stored in her beautiful, magical blue box.

And even now, when everything else is falling apart and she has lost everyone she loves, the TARDIS is still there. They’re still together for the time being and they will fight tooth and claw not to let the Division rip them apart. The Doctor can only hope they’ll succeed.

The TARDIS can’t know the future, not really. It is too much in flux, too iridescent to grasp. But she knows her and the Doctor will find each other, again and again. Their timelines are interwoven too firmly for them to be separated.

And she knows this Doctor is not attuned to her enough yet, to fully understand her and she is too warped up in her grief anyway. But she still tries, as hard as she can, to make her see:

We will always be together. You and I, we’re for eternity.

[ksficrec]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I love this blog, and I also wanted to take the opportunity that so many Kakasaku stories are shared here to express some frustrations I have when I’m reading a fic.I wonder if maybe there’s somone out there that share the same opinions so that’s why I’m here with a little list of things that bother me in a Kakasaku fic:

1- The “Sakura-Chan” thing. Kakashi does NOT call her like that, and frankly it only makes sense when Naruto says it. Kakashi calling Sakura like that is very ooc and not cute AT ALL for me.

2- Ino always being portrayed as the “sex expert”, pushing Sakura to dress sexy or whatever as if Sakura was a virgin prude with no sensuality of her own. It pisses me off, like why humiliating Sakura like that?

3- Sasuke being portrayed as a villain in OU fics: Sasuke suffered a lot of trauma and was heavily manipulated by Itachi, Orochimaru and Obito, but even if he was rude to Sakura sometimes, it was because he felt he had to push people away so he didn’t loose loved ones again. He deeply cared for team 7 so in OU fics, there’s a lot of ways you could write a good Kakasaku without having to bash Sasuke because canon Kakashi and Sakura understand Sasuke very well, it doesn’t make sense for them to hate him.

4- Last but not least, let’s be clear about what is slow-burn: slow-burn is when the relationship and chemistry are being constructed gradually, not rushed or urgent. They go slow with respect to each other’s limits. Writing a scene when the couple is about to have sex and then something/someone comes up and gets in the way is NOT slow-burn!!

Anyway, I just needed to take some things out of my chest because these little details really bother me when reading a story. Thanks for the attention, and keep up the good work!

Hi! Firstly, thank you 💕 Then,

This is where I realised I forgot most of canon and most of my Naruto knowledge now I think is purely from fics because I don't remember at all if Kakashi calls her Sakura-chan in canon or not! I don't mind it so much in fics, plus when it's used there is always a moment when feelings happen and he stops calling her -chan, so I don't so much mind this one. But I also prefer when he doesn't call her -chan, but instead sees her more as an equal in the field also (but idk if this is maybe a wstern bias I have and perhaps am not interpreting the japanese suffixes quite right).

I don't like the shy virginal Sakura portrayals either anymore (I think I did when I was a teen because I could relate to her that way). But also given the age difference and that in many fics Sakura is 18-19, I get the shy angle. But I just don't like reading that anymore, give me bamf, confident, sexually secure Sakura any day. However the flirty Ino is a trope I LOVE in fics.

(What does OU mean?) I get this but also I never really liked Sasuke too much. As an adult I understand that all his problematic behavior stems from being hurt and manipulated like you said, but the way he treats Sakura in canon is still very poor, traumatised or not. I get where it comes from but it's still not good behavior. Anyways in fics I also prefer when he is not such a bad guy, but a more sort of complicated situation. I also like the fics where he is dead but Sakura has only lovely and loving memories of him, which also complicates the situation

I am not sure what the actual fandom definition of slow burn is?? I am realising?? Because when they keep getting interrupted it's slow burn for the reader cause you want it so bad but it keeps getting delayed... but yea that's not so much slow burning feelings tha tthe characters have. While what you are describing is also friends to lovers (alt enemies to lovers) which is its own tag... so idk!! I'll take your word for it tho

I love this ask, you are all welcome to sending this kind of asks!

[leondaltons]

OCS AS A LOVE LANGUAGE ~

Thank you @indorilnerevarine and @feystepped for tagging me to take this quiz 💗

Tagging: @rocketsummer @pearlcscent @sagedumortain @sysba @lavampira @consulaaris @griffin-wood @cadetzarneki @fairmonkey @pearlysgates @celticwoman​

Nina Rodgers - KOTSAM

A story that ends in blood

The world has always been unkind, and when you have turned to yourself for comfort you have come face to face with an empty pit which seems to be laughing. You don’t care if it kills you but once you find someone whom you love and who loves you back, you will make sure nothing happens to them. They are yours. You will make a tear in this world and create a new place for you and your love if it comes to that. Because it has always been about love, and it is how it always ends.  

Daphne Hughes - Braverman Bay

Violent devotion

Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?  

Nathan Stewart - Bellmare Town

A knife called grief

You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.

Rhiannon Emroth - Shepherds of Haven

An undoing influence

Can someone tell you what to do? You have been carrying so much love within you for so long it is starting to turn into anger (why does it matter, all you see is red anyways) and you have been dragging this body through each day and every night you are split open on your bed and it is so so so lonely. If someone were to walk in while you were on your bed that way and they stitched you back in a new way, lining the seams with their love and kisses, you’d probably find this dreary world a little more bearable. You want someone to turn you over and over until you look in the mirror and see yourself looking back at yourself with a gentleness which has been lacking in you since forever.

Sophie Batra - TWC

Violent devotion

Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?  

Aubrey Lee - KOTSAM

Consumption of a heart unloved

Here's a dining table, here’s a set of plates. here's your heart, red and bursting with love. you have tried to love people all your life, but no one seems to understand you. your own mother perhaps forgot to teach you how to protect yourself, maybe people whom you trusted chose to look the other way when all you wanted was a hand full of love. all you want is someone to take from you, all you want is someone to dig in your heart and eat it and kiss you afterwards - bloody and red. you want them to tell you that you are what they have been looking for, you want to be the one who ends their hunger.

Minako Watanabe- Haikyuu!!

A knife called grief

You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.