#so im at a bit of an impasse

[measureyourlifeincake]

ysee, i believe people can do whatever they want in their fanart + headcanons, though i myself am not really big on headcanoning appearances for characters we never see bc i don't have a very strong visual imagination and it just doesn't super interest me

however, i also believe that if you draw the protagonist of slay the princess (or any of the voices or the narrator) without a beak then you are a coward

[defiledtomb]

( ͡❛ ‿‿ ͡❛)

[bismuthburnsblue]

hello not 2 beg for attention from strangers on the internet™ or anything but someone tell me id be making a good choice by going completely off script w the pattern for the robe

(expanding thoughts under the cut)

i think ive generally already expressed what im feeling w this pattern but essentially: the way they did it in the show is just. NOT working for me. i could put in a bunch of effort to make something that might work, and like. i think it would be good! but i also think there might just be. something fundamentally about my body thats never gonna look perfect with this pattern? idk some of the issues im seeing feel impossible to fit around while remaining faithful to the original pattern. trying to figure it out is just like. bumming me out. i dont understand why this isnt working. i cant see a reason

going off script kind of feels. like quitting. but also i know id be able to fit around all these issues im having if im not holding myself to strict to rectangular construction. ive already been thinking about ways i can improve the pattern to make it more what i want out of clothing (trapezoid.....)

i dont know. i dont like giving up on projects. i WANT to make it the way it should be made. but i also want to make something ill wear. something ill love. and i dont want to stick to the 'proper way' at the expense of that. and with where im at right now, thats how it feels like its gonna turn out. but maybe it wouldn't, if i kept trying

idk. im not good with decisions. if u read all that, i would love your input (pretty please)

[seveneyesoup]

heartbreaking: the paper you want to read is being written by someone whose writing style you do not like to read

[squidult]

not being able to feel so much, as much, all of the time, actually kinda rocks

[saintjosie]

Heyyyy girl so, I'm at an impasse with my transition. The euphoria is gone and I don't know where to find it anymore. Everything is progressing sooooo slowly, still too afraid to fully present fem, I came out to everyone I could, I'm still figuring out my style

I just don't know where to chase that girl high anymore

the first year or so of transition, euphoria was abundant.

my skin changed, i grew boobs, my body hair thinned out, and my hair grew out. i got laser and my facial hair slowly started to go away. i figured out what kind of clothes looked good on me and what i felt good wearing. i did voice training and found my voice. i learned how to do makeup. i had dabbled before but i REALLY learned how do it properly, and in a way where i didn’t feel like i had to cake my face with makeup.

but things didn’t really change until i decided to come out and stop boymoding no matter what - even if people misgendered me, or were transphobic, i just decided that i was gonna do it because fuck them. i’m doing this for me and not for anyone else.

and that’s when i really learned what it means to move through the world as a woman. because even if i didn’t pass as well as i liked, being publically a trans woman meant that everywhere i went, people either saw me as a woman or treated me with misogyny because they saw me as a man pretending to be one. either way, i had to deal with misogyny every day, the way that all women have to.

i learned what it feels like to get hit on when i don’t want the attention and what it’s like to be followed while holding my keys between my fingers.

and i also learned what being one of the girls feels like, with girl talk, chit chat, and white wine. i learned how to tell my friends how im feeling and listen to them in turn.

and from those experiences, i learned what kind of woman i wanted to be. i learned that i didn’t really like wearing girly things as much as androgyny and rough femininity. i learned that i didn’t really like wearing all that much makeup all the time. i learned how to gently turn away men without offending them. i learned how to deal with a man’s ego by making them feel smart and capable and how to subtly shut them down when they annoyed the hell out of me.

and i also learned that this was MY experience with womanhood and no one else’s. that other women did things differently and were still every bit as much women in their own way.

and at a certain point i realized that there wasn’t going to be a next high, a next hit of euphoria, because that wasn’t what i was chasing anymore. i was building a life and it was finally the life i wanted. now all of my joy is euphoria. and also all of my sadness and rage. because i just AM a woman. i’m not a woman in transition. i’m just a woman.

there are still some things i’d like to change and there probably always will be. but that’s also just what it’s like to be a woman and to be human.

just keep taking it one step at a time and you’ll find your own way. i promise 🙂

[eustasskidagenda]

omg hi hi! i adore your writing so much :3! if its alright with you, could i get headcanons for how crocodile, law, kid, and ace would be with an autistic s/o who loves to infodump, but is nervous to do so. theres always this odd bit of shame that accompanies infodumping for me because i get so excited i cant properly articulate myself *lays down* its just a mess of stimming, stuttering, and laughing at my own jokes. i feel embarrassed after, even if its totally an illogical response. im unsure if you write for autistic y/n so feel free to ignore this if you dont. thank you so much <33

☆Crocodile, Law, Kid & Ace with an autistic s/o who loves to info dump 

Hello, dear anon! I'm not used to write autistic y/n, because I don't know enough about this and I wouldn't like to be harmful. However, the situation you're describing is something close to ADHD, which I know well. So I've made some additional researches to be sure and come up with something, I hope you will like it. Thank you for your request, it was a sweet one ♡

CW : g/n reader, slight curses for Kid, fluff 

WC : Around 1,500 words

Crocodile 

Crocodile doesn't talk much, he's always serious and quiet. It's just that he's often thinking about his business and plans. But he's a good observer and would immediately notice if you want to say something but are too nervous to do it. He knows you perfectly, so he would recognize the way you're fidgeting.

He's a man with good manners, so his first reflex would be to lock the door and make sure no one can enter and destabilize you. When it's done, he will point his chair towards you.

"Sit. I'm listening, y/n." 

Actually, he likes hearing you speak during hours. He knows it's a way to express your love and feelings. He's flattered that you want to share your world with him. Go ahead and speak, he will listen. Even if he's just nodding or commenting short sentences in response, he has a good memory and will remember everything you said to him. 

If you're talking too fast and start to get really flustered, he will let you know that you're speaking too fast, like 'y/n, what did you just say?' 

Your hyper-focus and info-dumping are appreciated by Crocodile because he enjoys learning new things and you're a source of knowledge. Maybe he's impassive and struggles to express his feelings, but sometimes you will hear him talk about what he learned with you, so clearly he listened to every single word. 

"Don't be ashamed, it was interesting. Can we talk more about this specific point?" 

If you say something that he is really curious about, he has no shame asking for more. It's a way for him to express his genuine care for you. For him, it's a way to prove to you that even though he's always quiet, he cares.

Law

Law is similar to Crocodile in his lack of emotional expression and limited speech. He is always busy, struggling with his parasitic thoughts and taking care of his patients. Finding some private time with you is a challenge for him. 

If you run into Law with excitement about your passion or new hyper-focus, he may feel embarrassed because it's not the perfect time for him. Autism is something he knows about, and he is an intelligent and educated man. And, he wants to make you feel safe and comfortable. 

"I'll be yours in a moment, y/n-ya."

He has a complete understanding of you and is an excellent observer. The way you're already blushing, fidgeting, and swallowing nervously. He can even hear your heart racing. So first thing first, he will tell you to take a deep breath. After all, he’s a doctor. 

"What do you wanna talk about?" 

As Crocodile, he's a great listener. When you're full of passion and excitement, he thinks you're cute. He likes the sound of your voice. He loves when you want to find him and talk about your passion, because you're offering him a break from his work. If you weren't there, he would be stuck either in work or in his own head. When he's with you, he can forget about his dream of avenging. You're his safe place, truly. 

He doesn't speak a lot. But he is listening.M and asks questions from time to time.

"Yn-ya, there's been no urge. Take your time." And if you're stuttering a lot, he would just say nothing because it's pointless to make a remark, as long as he can understand what you're saying, he will never say something about your elocution. 

"That's interesting, where did you learn that much?" 

Law is a curious and intelligent man, so he likes to learn more about almost everything. If it can help him with his plans or maybe his patients, it might even be beneficial for him.

During your bedtime together, he would ask you to talk about your passions. The way you talk and laugh is like his own lullaby. When you speak, he can find inner peace because it shuts down all the voices in his head. He might fall asleep sometimes when he feels tired. It's just that you're providing him with some relief. When he wakes up, he would be deeply sorry. "So, yesterday, you stopped at this precise point… what were you trying to say after?"

Kid 

Kid is so goddamn loud. And really passionate. He's focused on his goal of becoming the next PK and has loved mechanics and robotics since childhood. He would be aggressively sweet, like frowning when he notices how stressed and nervous you act towards him. "Hey, Y/N, why are you so fucking nervous? Just speak" 

He thinks you're cute with your cheeks all red. On the flip side, he's a bit confused. Why are you nervous? Is it his fault? He knows he's loud, hard to love and rough, but he cares about people he likes. Have you seen how he acts with Killer and his crew? He loves his people. 

And, as a punk, Kid is marginalized. He knows a lot about being different, and if you feel ashamed about it, he can understand. "Come on y/n, let's find a private place" 

Grab your wrist in an aggressive yet sweet way and lead you to his workshop or bedroom. He sits you on the bed with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. "Now we're alone." 

So, you start talking nervously. It doesn't matter if the topic is interesting to him or not, he will listen. Because as I said, Kid is a passionate. Everything can be made interesting by passionate people. So, yeah, talk about birds, cakes, plushies, or anything stuck in your head. He will like it. And he enjoys the sound of your voice. He’s even flattered to be your special someone, the one you’re looking for when you need to talk. It fuels his ego and pride.

He will deal with your stuttering as he deals with Killer's laugh. He'll shut up and smash all the people making fun of you if there's something you hate about yourself. You're his s/o, no one can laugh at you and continue to live without facing his rage.

"Goddamn, slow down" yes, not the best with kindness, but at least he's paying attention. 

He wouldn't help but think you're really cute, with your eyes shining as you finally manage to relax and express how passionate you are. He understands your excitement because when he talks about robots, music, punk or weapons, he's exactly the same. 

Kid is not the most culturally advanced, it depends on the topic. He enjoys learning new things thanks to you or Killer, it's important for him to be credible, and he hates looking inferior in front of others. 

"See, there was no reason to be that nervous" When you finished speaking.

Just poke your cheek, grin and leave a mark of lipstick on your front-head before returning to his activities and yelling proudly to everyone he knows everything about the subject you just info-dump about.

Ace

The sweetest. Ace's personality is both compassionate and protective. He grew up with Luffy, so passionate and talkative people are something he knows a lot about. As he's proud of his brother, he's proud of you and can listen to everything you say for hours. 

"Y/N, is there something wrong?" 

Yeah, he would immediately notice that you're starting to get nervous. His first reflex is to find a more private place, if that's not already the case. He wants to do everything to make you feel safe and loved. If it's winter or just cold, he would even use his DF to warm the room. As soon as you're all comfortable, he'll run his fingers through your hair. "You know I will always listen." 

Ace doesn't speak a lot about what's on his mind. He's way too stubborn and always struggles with guilt due to the blood running through his veins. So he enjoys having someone like you. Your voice is soothing him, and he loves how passionate and honest you are always. 

For him, it's even amazing and unreal to have someone talk to him. You're treating him like a normal human and not a failure, because he feels like it often: unloved, unwanted and unworthy.

"Sweetie, you don't have to rush, we have the time, I'll always listen" if you start to speak too fast.

Would entwine his fingers with yours when you're stuttering and laugh heartily at your jokes. You remind him of his dear little brother. He feels lucky to have you by his side. 

"I could listen for hours." And he's totally honest.

If someone makes fun of you, he's truly mad. You are as significant to him as his brother or Whitebeard. And if someone makes fun of his loved-one, Ace is merciless and really impulsive.

"Please, say more about this specific point!", "Oh, really, that's so funny?" He wants to make you talk even more. Until you're finally relaxed and able to speak without stuttering, blushing, or anything else. He doesn't mind it, even if it lasts for hours. Once you're done, he has his usual sweet smile on his face. "That was so interesting, why are you so embarrassed?" 

So you explain to him that you feel embarrassed about your info dump because you're afraid to annoy people or talk too fast etc." It's alright, you won't bother me." 

You're his sunshine. He feels loved with you. He feels more than just the son of someone; he's just Ace, and that's the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

Such a sweet boy. ♡

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter two: the arrival

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!SHIElD!reader

masterlist

summary: being a SHIELD agent, you have a knack for analysing people, particularly when it comes to attraction. you have everyone figured out, sorted away into the boxes you've created. But there's one man you can never seem to figure out, the very bane of your existence -- Bucky Barnes. On the field, he is a saint, helping you dodge bullets and taking knife wounds in your name. Around the building? Public menace number one, always poised to insult or to spar with you.

After being sent on a 6-month-long torture-cum-vacation with the very man, could all this change? Could you finally figure out what has been bubbling beneath the surface for years between the two of you, the juggernaut that you know you cannot stop?

warnings:  language, heavy mentions of sex, brief and non-specific mentions of Bucky’s past

word count: 2.9k

taglist: @cjand10 @mcira

PREVIOUS PART

A/N: so excited for you guys to read! sorry ive been MIA recently -- the first half of august will be extremely stressful for me as I have my drivers theory test on the 10th, then I find out if I get into uni on the 15th, hopefully all goes well but you never know!! so for that reason, I haven't been able to write much since posting the first chapter, so updates might be every 2 weeks or so! im so sorry </3, but as always, please let me know how you're finding the story!!!!

The wedding band offers you a strange comfort as you twist it around and around your fingers, staring out of the window of the private jet. It’s a simple golden band, with your initials and Bucky’s engraved onto the inner edge. You hate it, but are too ashamed to vocalise it. It was less than a week ago that you were sobbing on the floor about pretending to be married, and now the wedding band, his initials rubbing against your skin on the inside of it gives you solace?

Bucky notices, because of course he does. He moves to sit directly in front of you, and you turn to him. Officially, the two of you are on the clock now, and so you keep your face impassive, instead of scowling or staring angrily at him. He leans back in his seat, shoving his hands into the dark leather jacket you’re all too familiar with, slouching. He’s wearing jeans the same colour as his eyes, and a red henley that’s just peeking through the top of the jacket. Average, suburban white guy, with a bit of New York flair. 

“You’ve been avoiding me all week.” He states simply, like it’s the most abhorrent fact he’s ever had the displeasure of narrating. You nod, trying your best to not let a snarky remark sneak past your lips, currently coloured in a sheer red. 

“I don’t want to get sick of you too soon. It’s the longest we’ve ever been on any mission. You remember Bucharest, right? How we were almost at each other’s throats in two weeks, and because of us poor Sam spent a week in the medbay? I don’t want that to happen again.” He glances down at the memory, as if humiliated by the outcome of that mission. You know you are — you still check Sam’s hands to see if he’s still healing. You assume he’s done with talking to you and turn to stare back out the window, admiring the green fields and fluffy clouds.

“I understand. But that means we haven’t talked about anything. Like our cover story, how I proposed. Or how affectionate we’re going to be with each other.” 

“Well, you’re still going as James Barnes, aren’t you?” Realistically, you should’ve said The Winter Soldier. That’s what you mean, and he knows that. But you can’t bring yourself to say it, to remind him of everything he’s trying to escape from. It seemed to be an unspoken boundary between the two of you, that you’ll never throw that title in his face, especially when you’ve seen the way he retracts from society and begins to shake in his seat at those three words, regardless of who uses them. His past, before you knew him, you decide to leave untouched. You couldn’t live with yourself if you belittled him and shamed him for things that happened to him, things that he was never in control of.

You’ve read the case files. You know the atrocities. You can’t do that to him. Even if he chose to cross that line, you can’t wound him in such a way, especially not for petty revenge. You want to annoy him, yes, but you don’t want him to truly ache irrevocably because of you. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to do that to him.

“Yes. And you’re still going as you?” You nod, gears turning in your head.

“We can say we met in Wakanda, and we were friends for 5 years. You were hopelessly in love with me the whole time, obviously. But I only started seeing you as more than a friend after… we went to a friend’s wedding together, and I didn’t have a partner so I dragged you along with me. When they exchanged their wedding vows, I realised that what you and I had was special, and that you’re ridiculously handsome. And the rest is history.” You shrug, hating that you’ll have to admit to his stupid, pretty face that he has a stupid pretty face.

“How’d you come up with that? You don’t really seem the romance type…”

You think for a moment, reabsorbing the insult that you almost fire at him. Is he implying that you’re a slut, again?

“Just because I’ve never been serious about anyone before, doesn’t mean I’m a heartless monster, James. I’ve read books, and seen TV shows. I prefer romance, to remind myself that somehow, sometimes, men can be at least decent.” Your eyes bore into his then, silently expressing your anger. “And I’d really appreciate it if half of your insults toward me aren’t slutshaming. Keep it to yourself.” You can’t help it.

His eyebrows furrow, and somehow he looks even sexier. God, you hate how your sexual attraction toward him peaks when he’s civil with you. “What? I’ve never…”

“Yes you have, don’t lie. Almost every other sentence you say to me, you mention me sleeping around. Now, I don’t give a fuck what you think, but it’s beginning to get annoying. You wanna get your marks up? Find some new material.”

“Butterscotch, no. That’s—That’s not what I mean. You’re the only person I’m ever around who’s had so much sex, but it’s not a bad thing. Definitely not a bad thing. It just genuinely seems to me that whenever I see you, you’re always planning to hook up with someone. That’s why. I’m not shaming you for having sex, do whatever the fuck you want. I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise, or if that’s why you hate me.” You’re constantly shifting between staring out the window, and at him, but when he apologises you can’t help but give yourself whiplash, wondering if he’s joking.

A million more questions circle your mind, and your anger flares up before you can stop it. You stand up, walking over to where he sits. He watches your face, as you grip the armrests and lean down so you’re uncomfortably close to him. He gets flustered so quickly, it’s another one of your favourite weaknesses of his to exploit. “You think that’s why I hate you? I hate you, because you’re an arrogant, self-centred bitch, who’s only ever treated me like shit.” In truth, he’s only arrogant and self-centred when it comes to you. To everyone else, he’s as sweet and humble as they come, and that’s what bothers you the most. 

That he’s chosen to have some personal vendetta against you from the very first night he met you, when you tried to be kind. You greeted him, smiled at him, bought him a vinyl player and limited edition vinyls from the 40s in mint condition for his fucking birthday, and all he ever was, was cruel to you. He scowled, he turned away from you. He all but threw your thoughtful gift across the room and fled from the birthday party.

That was your breaking point, when you decided that he’s not worth it. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was fresh out of Wakanda at the time, and you thought that maybe he was just having trouble reintegrating into society, what with the hell he’d been through. But then, you noticed the way he spoke to Nat with a wide smile on his face, how he loved to laugh with the other agents, and you noticed it was just you that he was still closed-off and horrid to. That’s when you began to be cruel, began to insult him and scowl right back, mirroring his expressions 

You’d never done it before then, but it felt so natural, so deserved. And then it had become second nature, as easy as blinking, or finding someone new to sleep with. It’s even more embarrassing to admit that you’d found yourself, for the first time, having strong and true romantic feelings for someone, and then he shut you down like that. How could you not? With a face like that, and an unwavering passion in those cobalt eyes, how could you not form some semblance of attachment? 

You briefly remember the way you’d acted around him, like a giggling schoolgirl who’s just dipped her toes into the dating world. How naive you had been, how foolish. It all just makes you grimace now, fuelling the flames of your hatred all that much more.

He searches your eyes, trying to dig beneath all the malice. As if you’d let him. He must know that to poke the bear is futile at this stage, because he decides to change the topic.

“And what about me proposing? How long have we been married? Where did we go on our honeymoon?” Your faces are so close…if he were half a decent person you wouldn’t leave any room for him to even breathe at this current second.

“Don’t tell me I’m gonna carry all the braincells on this mission, Barnes.” You retreat back to your seat, slumping over yourself, trying to ignore all of the bitter memories that have just been dragged to the forefront of your mind. 

A brief silence descends over the two of you, and you swivel your attention once again to the landscape outside, buckling your seatbelt as the flight attendant announces that you’re about to land.

“One day, I asked you over to my apartment, on our three year anniversary. December 22nd. I cooked you your favourite meal, chicken biryani with that raita that you like, and red velvet cake for dessert. It was a candlelit dinner in my tiny apartment, with a red tablecloth the same colour as your dress. After the dinner I asked you to marry me, reciting stanzas and stanzas of prose about how beautiful and amazing you are, and how in love with you I am. Then, we made love until dawn, obviously.” 

A smile graces your face at his last words, at how innocent he appears when he refers to having sex as making love. The sentiment is sweet.

His seeming innocence catches you off guard at times — he’s been amongst all the agents and Avengers for eight years now, as opposed to your 13. The agents are always throwing themselves at him, especially those not into women, at all. You’ve often assumed he hooks up with most of them, seeing as Steve’s often recounted stories of what a charmer he was back in the 40s. And when he’s nice, you doubt anyone could resist him.

So why does he seem so new and inexperienced to most things? Another mystery you can’t be asked to solve.

“God, you’re just dying to have sex with me, aren’t you?” You tease, letting your grin  mould into something a little more sadistic, indicating that the thick, putrid air of a few minutes ago has passed.

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, the story pretty much requires it.”

You nod in mockery. “Uh huh, of course. You pervert, we’re not going to tell anyone that. The idea of premarital sex will probably give half the kids in those suburbs a heart attack.” His eyes rake up and down your figure, and you give him your most salacious grin. You usually reserve it for men across the bar, when you catch them checking you out. It’s reserved for inviting them over for casual conversation and bathroom sex.

On Bucky? It flusters him to hell and back when he’s on the receiving end of it. Just like it is right now, as he tries desperately to hide the blush that’s spreading quickly across his cheeks. He swallows, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob against his throat in an almost predatory manner.

It’s in moments like these you’ve often thought about hate sex. Specifically with Bucky, about what it would be like to pull on his hair, to boss him around like you usually enjoy to. Would he listen to you? Or would he bark orders of his own at you, gripping at every inch of you desperately? But you’re scared, because he’s the first person to ever make you want to pursue them romantically, and you’re scared all the hate will melt away with every gentle yet scorching touch, leaving you vulnerable.

You hate being vulnerable.

“We’ve only been married a month, and we went to Spain for our honeymoon. We just got back two weeks ago to finish packing.” He completes, and it seems simple enough. You notice how his voice shakes ever so slightly, still influenced by the way you look at him, and the way he refuses to make eye contact. 

“Sounds good. We’ll stick with that then.” You offer, not bothering to look at him twice as you leave the jet and step into the family sedan that Bucky’ll be driving.

You sigh as you sink into the passenger seat in a car that smells too clean, staring out the window as if bored. You wonder if either of you will be able to not kill the other in these six months.

In your mind, you either fuck or fight it out. There’s no other way you’re emerging. 

You wonder which option he’d choose, studying him as he settles in beside you, so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s taken off his leather jacket and shoved it to the backseat, exposing his arms and—his left arm is no longer metal.

He catches you staring — he’s always looking for an excuse to stare at you. “Fury handed it to me after the initial briefing. It fits over my arm like a second skin, so it looks normal. I’m supposed to be trying to get back that normal life, remember? Fury said it’ll help disillusion and distance me from The Winter Soldier in these civilian’s minds.” Somehow, it sends a pang through your heart, still, at the way he’s trying to not lose his shit and start crying at even the thought that they’ll still see him as an empty weapon, a vessel for unimaginable evil. You soften.

“Here, let me drive — you just learned what a car was, like, six months ago. Plus it’s manual. I know Steve only let you learn automatic. Come on, stop being a bitch and switch with me.” You’re goading him, holding out your hand for the keys as he blindly stares at the console, trying to process how you know that fact about him. 

Steve and you are close, best friends even. That’s why. He turns off the engine and does as he’s told, mind probably currently too occupied with awful memories to register you’re being soft with him.

As you settle into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors as he stares down into his lap. “Besides, when you walk in there unarmed and without a murderous look on your face, they’ll know, James. It’s been years.” Your tone is too gentle, too gentle considering your history. But you can’t help yourself, and you let your hand gently touch his arm even though he won’t feel it. He looks up, and you see his eyes brimming with tears.

“But what if it doesn’t work? What if they see right through me?” His voice is so small, unlike any tone he’s ever taken with you.

“It will. It will work, they won’t see right through you. If they know who you are, you know they followed your trial, your rehab in Wakanda. They know you were pardoned. And they’ll know when you treat all the kids with respect, because you’re good with them. When you help the seniors cross the road, when you help the sexy neighbour with her groceries. They’ll know, because you’re good. You have a good heart, and you treat almost everyone you know with nothing but love and affection. Just because I’m not on the receiving end of it, doesn’t mean I can’t see that. Trust your gut, James. It’ll all be fine. And if I can pull off being in love with you, they’ll definitely see it too. I’ll sing your praises to everyone in town, I’ll do everything to convince them if I have to. Because that’s the only way our cover will work. This is official business, James. This isn’t you and me around the Tower, or sparring in the gym. Just trust me here, okay?” You don’t know why you’re sympathetic, you don’t know why you care. You don’t know why you’re saying all of these things like you’re falling in love with him, all you know if that he’s falling apart and you have to try and stop it.

You have to try and be there for him, gripping his hand between both of yours, trying to offer a physical reminder that he’s in the car with you, not back in that horrid lab or in the sterile courtroom as some bald, red-faced lawyer tries to write him off as the most heinous cretin to disgrace this planet. You look at him and he looks at you and the tension is almost palpable, like you could cut it with a knife. You have no idea what’s happening to you.

“Okay.” He says quietly, his thumb stroking the side of your hands. Sam beeps the horn behind you, him and Steve posing as the movers and carriers you and James have hired. 

It startles you out of the moment, reminding you of your rapid heart, beating so fervently against the jail of your ribs that you feel it in your fingertips. You turn to the road ahead, signalling to the PARKER PACKERS AND MOVERS truck towing behind you. You swallow, hopefully taking any softness for Bucky along with it.

It’s going to be a long six months.

NEXT PART

[torukmaktoskxawng]

‘anla - part five

Masterlist

Summary: A child's neglect and a father's inner turmoil finally comes to a head. Y/n takes a leap of faith, both literally and figuratively.

Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader

Warnings: Mature language, time skips, HEAVY angst, depression, older sibling syndrome, mentions of death, canon compliance, father/daughter trouble, fluff, etc.

posted on ao3

Word Count: 6k+

Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic

Na'vi Words: ikran - Mountain Banshee, tsahik - spiritual leader, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, tawtute - human, tsmuktu - sibling, marui - home, olo'eyktan - clan leader, kalweyaveng - son of a bitch, ilu - dolphin like animal, Sänrr Rong - Glow Tunnel, frakrr - always

Taglist (bold indicates “could not tag”):  @bangtanxberm @aonungmyaddiction @lv9su @aisselasstuff @yourusername1 @amortencjja @king-julian6201 @gg-trini @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @mikeyswifie @heart-an0n @iloveavatar @urdads-gf 

Ronal always had perfect timing, and today was no different. She found herself with an empty basket in her arms as she walked into the jungle in search of specific plants. She had walked for a bit before she noticed a shadow cast over her form. Looking up, Ronal watched an ikran fly overhead and land on the strong branches of a large tree, its rider jumping off and landing on the branch gracefully. Ronal took an educated guess on who the rider was and called up with her strict, ever so formal voice, "Y/n te Suli."

A head and a pair of ears perk up at her name, then Y/n looks down to see who had called her. Eyes slightly wide in surprise, she shakes off the shock and climbs down the tree, landing strongly on her legs in front of Ronal. She keeps her eyes dutifully lowered out of respect, keeping her expression stern and impassive as she touched her forehead then lowered her hand toward Ronal, "Ma tsahik."

Ronal appreciates the formality despite the way she shoved the empty basket in the young girl's arms, "I need to restock my herbs and materials, and there are certain components that require climbing. I could use you for those instances."

Y/n took one glance down at Ronal's baby bump before nodding in submission, following the tsahik through the jungle in search of her ingredients. They do their work in silence, Ronal occasionally explaining certain depictions of a plant Y/n needed to look for before sending the girl up a tree, but other than that, they don't mutter another word. That is, until after Ronal deemed the assortment of acquired plants enough for her stock and walked with Y/n all the way back to the village. The walk through the jungle had been tense and Y/n didn't know how to entertain or even converse with Ronal. The tsahik was an intimidating woman, sometimes more so than her own mother. Y/n doubted that Neytiri and Ronal ever spoke a word to each other even as the Metkayina was teaching the Omatikaya woman her ways. If Neytiri didn't know what to say to Ronal, Y/n doubted she could either.

However, Ronal spoke first, and she spoke as bluntly as ever, "So it would appear that your brother has taken a liking to my daughter."

Y/n sputtered, surprised by the older woman's statement as she tries clambering for a more appropriate response. She knew that whatever was going on between Lo'ak and Tsireya was sweet and strictly innocent -for the time being- but for it to come to Ronal's attention was a bit concerning, to say the least, "Oh... uh... has he?"

Ronal doesn't appreciate the unintelligent stutter, ears flattening as she narrows her gaze at the forest child, "I am not stupid, girl, and neither are you. So quit pretending that you are."

There's a slight shift between them, and some sort of mask slips from Y/n's face right before Ronal's very eyes. The Metkayina tsahik observes the way Y/n straightens her posture and sternly frowns, glaring at the path ahead of her instead of at Ronal. Clearly, she didn't appreciate the insult, "What would you like me to say? That I disapprove? Technically, I don't."

Ronal wasn't one to turn down a challenge, and she was already intrigued by this side of Y/n, "Explain."

"Na'vi have mated with other Na'vi from different clans before, at least where I'm from. It's not unusual."

"You think that is why one must disapprove?"

"What else is there to disapprove of? That they're young?" Y/n nods in agreement, "They are, and obviously, they should wait until they finish their Iknimaya, but that shouldn't deter them from choosing one another."

"I see."

Y/n spares a glance at Ronal, narrowing her eyes with as much bravery as she could muster, "But I know that's not why you disapprove."

Ronal quirks an eyebrow ridge, challenging the girl, "No?"

"You disapprove because Lo'ak is a half-breed. Part tawtute." Ronal doesn't answer Y/n's accusation and instead watches silently as Y/n raised her five-fingered hand up to her face, examining the offending limb with pinned ears and sad eyes. Y/n brings her hand back down, still walking beside Ronal even as she started to feel small, "Maybe your son was right. That we are freaks... but your daughter doesn't see us as freaks. She thinks we're special, especially Lo'ak. I mean, it's not every day you have Omatikaya half-breeds bonding with a tulkun around here, right? Lo'ak has done the impossible and he should be given more respect as the son of Toruk Makto."

Her words were strong, stronger than Ronal has ever heard from Jakesully's oldest daughter. She knew Y/n was once strong-willed, remembering the day Ao'nung crawled back home and mentioned how Y/n broke up a fight with him and her brothers using her ikran and strongly-worded threats. But as of late, Y/n has barely spoken to anyone except for her remaining siblings and friends. Ronal couldn't recall the last time Y/n spoke in either her or her mate's presence, usually leaving her parents to do the talking. Somehow, the once mute girl let her mask slip in her little brother's defense, walking confidently beside the tsahik who dared to insult her family. Ronal had to give credit where it was due. There weren't many people alive who would dare speak to her so proudly and without courtesies.

"You are a boldly spoken girl, Y/n te Suli Neytiri'ite. Although my children tell me that you don't speak as much of late."

Her tail droops closer to her side as they walk, and Y/n doesn't bother hiding her shame, "I guess not. There isn't much to talk about."

"No?" Understanding etches across Ronal's elegant features, adjusting the basket in her arms as she pins her eyes ahead of her as they walked, "I suppose you are much like me that way. I let my mate do the talking if I think the need to talk is pointless or exhausting. I prefer to sing."

She catches Y/n's tail perking up in surprise, and it took a lot of willpower not to smirk as her amusement flourished in her chest. Y/n's jaw nearly gapes open, "You sing?"

"Yes... my Spirit Sister, Ro'a, she would sing with me."

Y/n immediately regrets asking, instantly catching the wave of sadness and distress that washes over the tsahik. It was still a loss she carried close to her chest, and Y/n understood where she was coming from and how she felt. They had both lost someone dear to them that fateful day, and the wounds still bled as if the loss was still fresh.

Y/n decided that she didn't like Ronal bleeding alone and feeling so vulnerable, allowing herself to remember bittersweet memories of her own, "... Neteyam would fly with me. All the time, whenever I asked. While we fly, he'd listen to me whenever I needed to vent my anger."

Ronal looks back at the forest girl, nearly a young woman. The tsahik's expression was impassive and Y/n could tell the gears in her head were spinning, but unsure of the what or why. Ronal nods solemnly, "I no longer prefer to sing. You no longer prefer to talk. Do you believe our tsmuktu would wish that for us?"

Neither female had thought of that before, and for some reason, whatever conclusion came to mind, the thought lifted their spirits, even if only for a little while. Y/n felt lighter for the first time in a while, since before Neteyam's death, and she didn't feel shame in letting her eyes get warm and blurry, the path ahead a little unidentifiable. Ronal doesn't comment and lets the girl shed her silent tears as the pair finally makes it to the edge of the jungle, spotting the village right up ahead. Y/n quickly wipes away her tears and just in time, too. As they approached the village, Ao'nung was sighted walking up to them. He had seen Y/n first and grinned widely, but the expression quickly falls when he noticed the woman walking beside her. Jogging up to his friend and his mother, he glanced between them with caution, waiting for either bomb to go off if one of them spoke.

When neither woman spoke, Ao'nung broke the ice first, addressing the Omatikaya girl, "Hey, Y/n. Rotxo and I are going bodysurfing later and we thought you might want to join."

Ronal spared a glance at Y/n and caught the forest girl smiling for the first time, but she wasn't smiling at Ronal. The tsahik followed her gaze until her own eyes landed on Ao'nung, and suddenly some puzzle pieces were fitting into place. Ao'nung was smiling back, and it wasn't one of his usual smirks or promises of trouble. He was smiling, genuine and happy.

Ronal ignores her son for the moment, turning to Y/n before the girl could even give Ao'nung her answer, "Thank you for your help, child. You may go now."

Y/n quickly broke out of her train of thought, remembering where she was, and dropped the smile. She nods to Ronal before sparing a lingering glance at Ao'nung, walking away as she spoke over her shoulder, "See ya later, Seawee-- Ao'nung."

Ao'nung had laughed even as the girl vanished from sight. Ronal sternly cleared her throat and the laughter immediately stops, the boy straightening his spine, standing in attention to his mother. The tsahik decides to stare at him for a long period of time in order to make him squirm uncomfortably, then she bluntly asks the question buzzing in her mind,

"Do you wish to court Y/n?"

The question stuns Ao'nung, his ears and eyebrow ridges sticking straight up to the sky. He gapes like a fish, trying to find an appropriate answer. Ronal felt a little smug and satisfied as a darker shade of blue begins to form underneath her son's skin, even without a straight answer. Serves him right. Ronal knew she was going to need to fuss over Tsireya's infatuation with the Sully boy, but she didn't think she'd have to fuss over her own son so soon. Why were her children growing up before their little sibling entered the world?

Finally, Ao'nung lowers his gaze to his feet as he forces out a single word, "No."

Her brow ridge rose, a little surprised by the answer, "Why not?"

She was prepared for him to say many things, like how Y/n was not true Na'vi or that she was of a different clan, but Ronal wasn't prepared for when her son finally answered, "Because she's hurt right now. She lost her brother. I just... want to be there when she's ready."

Ronal tilts her head, curious, "For what?"

Ao'nung had the decency to look bashful, shrinking into his shoulders and lowering his ears. He looked as though he didn't have an answer either, unsure of himself while questioning the words on his tongue, "Moving on with her life? Is that stupid?"

She knows her son has every right to feel vulnerable around her, as his mother, but Ronal couldn't help but roll her eyes at his idiocy. With her basket under one arm, she loops the other through Ao'nung's and begins tugging him back in the direction of their family's marui, "No, son... but she said you once called her a freak. Surely you don't feel that way if you wish to court her?"

He bristles with annoyance, a trait he, unfortunately, inherited from Ronal, "Mother--"

"Fine. 'Not' court her."

Ao'nung relaxes his shoulders a little, his voice softening, "I don't think she's a freak. I think she's amazing."

Ronal hums, nodding occasionally to any Metkayina they pass by as mother and son trudge through the pathways of their village, "So. You do not wish to court her. Not right now at least. You are waiting for her."

"Yeah. I... I guess I am."

"You cannot guess," Ronal spoke sternly, stopping in her tracks and forcing her son to do the same as she glared him down, "You have to be sure, Ao'nung. You are our future olo'eyktan and you cannot afford to second-guess yourself. And you certainly cannot second-guess yourself when choosing a mate. It is for life, boy, do you understand?"

Ao'nung gulps and quickly corrects himself, "Yes. I'm sorry, Mother, I guess--" he winced when her eyes narrowed, "I mean, I'm just confused. I thought you would disapprove of Y/n."

Understanding the hidden question, she hisses under her breath and begins walking again, pulling Ao'nung along, "I will admit. She's not someone I would choose for you. She is not a healer and she prefers the sky over the sea. But it has never been my choice and she is Metkayina now. One of us. I will just have to surrender to the idea of both of my children choosing former Forest People before anyone born of the sea."

His body relaxed into her side, gladly walking beside her now instead of acting like he was forced to. He quietly muttered how grateful he felt, "Thank you. Wait-- what do you mean both children? Where's Tsireya?"

A wry smile graces Ronal's lips, patting his hand in pity, "Oh, my son. You are so blinded by your own infatuation that you never noticed your sister's. At least I will have a third child to distract myself from your foolishness."

They return home and Ronal finally lets her son free of her grasp. He had hurried off, likely to get away from his mother and also to track down Tsireya (or strangle Lo'ak, whichever comes first). Stepping into the hut, Ronal finds Tonowari inside, gutting the fish he had caught that morning. The olo'eyktan looks up and catches her gaze, and whatever he sees in her eyes has him standing up to reach out to her, "Ma Ronal?"

"We need to talk."

~~~~~~~~~

Jake knows that he should be more actively involved in his eldest child's life, but for the moment, Y/n has made it a game to avoid him. When he wanted to initially talk to her, she had slipped away to go bodysurfing with some of the other Metkayina her age. Jake found himself alone in their family's marui, waiting for everyone to return now that he wasn't able to talk to his daughter one on one. It made him think about Neteyam, and how the boy would've easily gone after his twin to talk to her. The thought made Toruk Makto greatly admire and miss his first boy all at once. He always relied on Neteyam to wrangle up his siblings, and for Y/n, he relied on her twin to talk to her for him. Neteyam always knew how to talk to Y/n. How to calm her, how to excite her, and he especially knew how to help his parents talk to her. Between the twins, Neteyam was more open about his emotions, but even that was a great feat. Neteyam didn't talk about it unless asked to, so if it was difficult to squeeze out Neteyam's inner thoughts, Jake wondered just how impossible would it be to reach Y/n's.

The struggling father even debated going back to the Spirit Tree to ask Neteyam what to do, but that inner turmoil made him feel so pathetic. How pathetic of a father was he that he needed to reach out to his dead son for help when it came to talking to his daughter? As a parent, Jake should be the one to have wisdom and give it freely to his children, not the other way around. Then again, it had been so long since Jake's own twin brother had died that he forgot that twins are on another level of understanding compared to the rest. Neteyam would always know Y/n best and vice versa, and that was something Jake had accepted a long time ago. Now, however, with Neteyam gone and Y/n left in a world without her other half, Jake was trying to understand her the way her brother always did.

It didn't help that Y/n has yet to go to the Spirit Tree herself. She refused to go see her brother and refused, even more, to talk about it. Jake wanted tonight to be the night they talk, so even after the rest of his family left to go to the communal meal, he waited.

He heard laughter coming from outside, ears moving wildly before he even raised his head. He recognized one of the laughs to be Y/n, and his chest squeezed at the familiar sound, wishing he could hear it more. After he heard her wishing her friends goodnight, he heard footsteps approaching, but not at the entrance of the marui. Looking up, he continued to hear the footsteps above him and realized that Y/n was climbing up the mangrove tree roots sheltering their home.

Jake goes outside, calling up, "Hey, sweetheart? Can you come down here, please?"

Y/n was sitting towards the top of the tree root but obediently climbed back down at her father's request. Hopping down and landing in front of him, she had jostled the bouncy walkway and stood straight up, tilting her head up at Jake in question. Once again, Jake found himself at a loss for words, unsure of what to say to her without her twin here to tell him, "Hey... feeling alright?"

She raised an eyebrow and shrugged, finding the outside wall of the marui more interesting to look at than her father, "I guess so."

Jake nods, deciding now was the time as good as any, "I was wondering if you and I could go to the Spirit Tree. I thought you might want to visit your brother."

Immediately, her posture shrinks and her eyes lower to her feet, and Jake was half afraid that she might burst into tears. Meanwhile, Y/n was thinking back to what Ronal had told her, wondering about both Neteyam and Ro'a and how they would feel knowing that their sisters were living miserable lives without them. She wanted to be able to live a life Neteyam would be proud of her for, but even now, the idea of looking him in the eye and telling him what she had been up to since his death made her stomach churn, "... I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"Are you sure?" Pity and concern swim in Jake's own eyes, lifting his hand and settling it gently on his daughter's shoulder, "It might help."

She frowned down at her feet, "Help with what?"

"It's just... you never got to say goodbye."

Her watery eyes peer up at him then, and Jake felt like he was being punched in the gut as venom drips from her words, "You mean I never got to watch him die? Nobody got to say goodbye, Dad."

"He wanted to say goodbye. He was trying to," What kind of a father was he if he couldn't comfort his child? Jake scrambled to find the right things to say, and instead, he blurted out what he knew would only make Y/n feel even more distressed, "Neteyam... he wanted me to tell you something. He wanted me to tell you to... to 'find more?'"

He wasn't expecting Y/n to rip herself out of his hold on her, and he wasn't expecting her to stare up at him as if he had burned her, full of pain, shock, and utter betrayal. Her whole body began to shake, but not from crying. Even as tears welled up and fell from her eyes, Y/n's fangs were bared as she began to angrily spat, "That stupid, selfless, self-sacrificing kalweyaveng!"

Jake's posture turns rigid, glaring down at his daughter as if ready to lecture her, appalled by her speaking ill of the dead, "Y/n!"

"Just leave me alone!" She screamed back, too angry to even bother thinking about another lecture from her father. She spun around with the intention to run, but Jake reached out and firmly grasped her arm to keep her from escaping.

"I've done nothing but leave you alone!" She flinched and Jake immediately lowered his voice, exhaling the abrupt anger and forcing himself to calm down, but still spoke sternly, "I have given you your space and time because I knew you were in a lot of pain. I knew how you were feeling because I know what it's like to lose a twin brother. It's time we finally talked, young lady."

"About what?" She asked, keeping her back turned to him.

"About that day. Your side of the story."

Y/n spun back around, tears still spilling from her eyes even as she glared at her father in disgust, "You mean you want me to tell you why I wasn't there to save my brother from dying?"

Jake's grip froze, and for the life of him, Jake couldn't figure out why his muscles refused to move. It was like an arrow had punctured him through the heart, the disgusting accusation still evident on Y/n's face. His anger disappeared, being replaced by shock and disbelief, "What?"

"You heard me."

Jake sucked in a sharp breath. Had she always felt this way toward him? "No, sweetheart, I would never--"

"It doesn't matter if you did or didn't think that, what matters is that's exactly what I expect from you." She straightened out her shoulders, defiant, even through her soft cries. She looked so confident and the fact that she was confident about Jake's behavior made his heart shatter. Since when should a child be so sure of their parent's motivations? "At this point, everything you have done up until now has led me to believe that you would blame me for not being there. After all, that's what you did to Neteyam. You blamed him or held him responsible whenever one of us did anything wrong. So what else should I expect from you now that I'm the older sibling?"

Jake's eyes blink rapidly, voice so quiet he hardly recognized it, "Y/n... I am so, so sorry. That had never been my intention."

She wipes her face with the back of her hand, "It's too late for you to apologize. It's too late for anything you could possibly do to make up for it. Neteyam is gone," her voice cracked under the pressure of such a heavy word. She wished she didn't have to finally admit it, and she wished she felt less angry at the sight of her broken father, staring down at her on the verge of tears, "He had to die for you to realize what you did was wrong. You couldn't have tried to change when he was still alive? No. You couldn't. And I can never forgive you for that."

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n decided to sleep on the very far end of the marui that night, away from her family and their hammocks, with her back turned and outright refusing to speak. Neytiri asked what happened with only her eyes, to which Jake's ears pinned back and he simply looked away, unable to look his wife in the eyes when he admitted that he screwed up. The parents spoke quietly to each other that night, talking about what happened in quiet enough whispers so none of their children could hear. Not that it mattered, since Spider snored loud enough to drown any unwanted sound out.

"Just give her time, Ma Jake... she is young and doesn't fully understand what she says."

Jake tries his best to shake his head, but it was currently nestled comfortably in the crook of her neck, "She's not a little kid, 'Tiri. She's not Tuk. She's old enough to finish her Iknimaya and be considered a warrior of the People. She knows what she's saying, and she's finally saying it. She's going to be sixteen soon, and she is struggling to figure out what that means for her. Her father treats her like an adult and her mother treats her like a child. It's confusing her."

Neytiri lightly pinched his arm, quietly snarling in retaliation, "I treat all my children that way. My babies can grow up all they want. They will stay my babies for the rest of their lives."

Jake smiled into her neck, placing a small kiss there in admiration of how much Neytiri fiercely loved their family. Neytiri smiles to herself and wraps her arms more securely around her husband. They stay like that for a few moments until Neytiri huffs in exhaustion, bringing her hand up to play with his hair, "I can hear your thoughts. Out with them."

He's quiet for far too long like he was trying to pretend he was sleeping to get himself out of it. When Neytiri pinched him again, he finally spoke, "... Our baby is going to be sixteen soon."

Neytiri grows quiet with him, alone together in their home while their children are off in their dreams. Neither of them say it, but they were both thinking about it. Only one of the twins will be sixteen soon and will continue to grow old, while the other will forever remain fifteen, stuck in time. Jake's throat closes up at the thought. He was a twin, left behind by his brother, alone in a world that hated him and his existence. He barely survived on his own, especially in a wheelchair. Then his drinking habits got him kicked out of nearly every bar in the vicinity of his living quarters. His drinks and his wheelchair were never a good mix, and Jake knew if he stayed on Earth any longer, he would have been dead.

Jake knew that Y/n was stronger than him in every way possible. She could never fall as low as he did when Tommy died. He thought by letting her grieve the way she wanted to, the two of them could start over and heal after losing Neteyam. Looking back on his choices, Jake had regretted it, because all the while Y/n was grieving for her brother, she was also believing that her father hated her.

His arms tighten around Neytiri, trying to bury his face even further in her neck when he felt hot tears threatening to spill in the corners of his eyes, "I feel like we're losing her, too..."

"We're not," she spoke sternly, though it cracked under the pressure of her own tears, "We won't. I cannot lose another baby, Jake. I cannot..." She swallows down the bile in her throat, clearing her airway and taking a deep breath to collect herself, "Y/n is not alone. There are other people who are around her every day who love her and want to see her happy. She has more than just us. We will have to accept that we cannot fix everything for our children. Sometimes, we have to let other people do it for us, especially if our children do not want our help."

He hums in agreement, a small weight lifted from his shoulders, but not all of it. Just enough to make him feel secure, at least for the night. His eyes grow heavy and before long, Jake is finally asleep.

Whatever anxiety he felt the night before returned when he woke up the next morning and realized Y/n was already gone.

Neytiri was already awake and calmed him down, claiming that their daughter had left for the day to take a break from everything. When Jake asked if Neytiri knew where she went, his wife only shook her head, "I knew it would be best not to ask. Wherever she is going, she does not want us to follow her."

Despite their talk yesterday, Jake didn't feel the least bit reassured. He tried not to let it bother him as he goes about his day, taking a break from his usual chores to watch his other kids play around in the water. He should have been doing this from the beginning, watching over all of his children so they could enjoy their innocence just a little bit longer, instead of having Neteyam or Y/n do it. By noon, the children were all exhausted from playing and Lo'ak even asked if he was allowed to go check on Payakan. Jake almost agreed, but his anxiety got the better of him, "You can, but only after your sister returns. I... don't want more than one of you being apart right now."

And surprisingly, Lo'ak accepted his father's explanation and it threw Jake through a loop. Who knew that actually communicating with your kids will lead them to understand you a bit better? After he brought the kids home to eat lunch with their mother, Jake noted how Y/n was not back yet and so he told Neytiri that he was going to look around. She rolled her eyes but nodded.

Jake searched for places he's seen his daughter in the past but found no one that fit her description. He then went into the jungle to check on her ikran, and to his surprise, Evi was still there, confused but curious as to why her rider was not with him. Bob hissed at Jake with annoyance, clearly offended by the lack of attention around here, so Jake took him out for a short flight, using the bond to instruct him where to go.

The next place he looked for her was the Spirit Tree, flying half a dozen circles around the whole area to see if he could spot Y/n, but came up empty. Jake tried not to full-blown panic, and so did his best to fly home and try not to think about it too much. He told Neytiri that he had never been able to find Y/n by the time the whole village was starting to trickle back home for the day. The sun was still out and everyone was going around to start making preparations for the communal dinner. Now Neytiri was starting to get worried and voiced her concerns. So finally, Jake did what he should've done before and made a trip to the chief's marui.

"Have either of you seen Y/n?"

Ao'nung and Tsireya's heads perk up at Jakesully's voice and the mention of Y/n. Both of the reef siblings glance at one another from inside the hut while they could hear Toruk Makto speaking to their parents outside, "We looked everywhere. She's not with her ikran. We checked the Spirit Tree. Nothing."

Tonowari's voice spoke next, "Do you think she is in trouble? We can have a search party sent out for her."

Jake's voice sounded resigned, ashamed, "No, I think she just wants to be left alone. We had a fight yesterday and she ran off before we woke up. But if it gets dark out, I'd appreciate the search party."

Silence followed and Ao'nung could only assume that Jake had left. The reef boy's heart was loudly beating in his ears to the point he had barely noticed Tsireya gently placing her hand on his arm. He spares a glance at her and regrets it. She only stared back as if she held the all-knowing Eywa in her hands. The siblings part when their parents reenter the marui, and Ronal's eyes immediately found her son's with the same knowing expression her daughter bore.

"You know where she is, don't you?"

She's met with silence, the whole hut practically heavy in it as Ao'nung only stared back with a guilt-ridden expression. Tonowari sighed out through his nose, ridding himself of the heavy weight of the situation. He lifts his arm out to the doorway, "Go, boy. Bring her back."

Ao'nung quickly nods and rises to his feet, "Yes, Father."

While watching her son leave, Ronal calls out, "Make haste. I do not want her mother to worry for much longer."

~~~~~~~~~

Ao'nung didn't waste any time. He called an ilu and took off, leaving the village behind him as he followed the beach further up the island. As he arrives at Sänrr Rong, he found a lone ilu, strapped to a harness but floating around without a rider, diving down and inspecting the coral to keep itself busy. Ao'nung disengages from his own ilu and watches the pair going around excitedly playing together before he got out of the water to climb the cliff. He grabs onto vines and rocks and pulls himself up, briefly remembering what the forest kids had done to climb up faster the last time they were all here. He eventually reaches the top, pulling himself over the ledge and catching his breath, exhausted in his haste to get up here. The wind was whipping wildly through his hair as he looks around, immediately finding what he had been looking for.

Y/n was sitting close to the edge of the cliffside where the kids would normally dive from. She had her legs tucked up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, looking out onto the vast ocean, her mind far away. She wanted to go somewhere quiet, somewhere not many Na'vi travel alone. She hadn't been here in a long time, remembering the last time she had gone to the Glow Tunnel. All the kids were there, having a blast, even having a picnic whenever they took a break from jumping into the water. Y/n stayed on top of the cliff the whole time, still refusing to ever take the leap. She stayed with the basket full of fruit whenever one of her other friends or siblings came around looking for a refreshing treat. She remembered laughing and warning them about stomach aches, especially when Rotxo insisted on chowing down a whole fruit on his own before jumping in for a swim. He regretted that by the time he had climbed back up the cliff, taking a nap instead of rejoining the fun.

Neteyam never looked younger than in those moments at Sänrr Rong, having fun and enjoying being fifteen. He loved cliff diving, especially when he and Lo'ak would race to the bottom or back up to the top. He was always trying to convince Y/n to join them, but each time, she refused and would watch her twin leap into the sky and plummet down into the water.

Now, she sat alone, wishing that her brother was there to ask her to join in the fun. She didn't have to delve into those thoughts for much longer as finally, she heard rustling behind her, footsteps slowly making their way toward her. Eventually, Ao'nung sat down beside Y/n, as he always does nearly every day since she lost her brother, and like always, they sit in silence before eventually, the curiosity ate at him.

"What are you doing up here?"

"Waiting for you." She responds automatically, rising to her feet before her courage could disappear, "Jump with me?"

He peers up at her, surprised, eyes flicking from her face down to her hand when she offered it to him. Ao'nung gulps down the nerves and reaches up, marveling at how small her hand was in his as she helped him rise to his feet again. Ao'nung tries not to keep staring at their joined hands, taking a moment to curl one of his fingers around her smallest, the pinky, the one he used to tease about to her and her siblings relentlessly. Looking back, even Ao'nung wanted to punch himself in the face. There was nothing wrong with the extra finger. In fact, if nothing else, an extra finger just means more to hold.

Realizing he still hasn't answered Y/n's question, he glanced back up to her eyes, blue meeting yellow, like a sun meeting the ocean, "Frakrr."

She beams up at him with her eyes, and her hand clasps more firmly into his. Looking down at the edge of the cliff, she sees the height, the fall, and the water down below. A chill runs down her spine, but it's more from the wind running through her hair than the fear. The wind felt like a comforting hand on her head, urging her forward, and she was not afraid.

Neither of them counts or speaks. Without looking to one another for reassurance, the two teens jump. They both scream, but it's out of delight and excitement, a rush running through them as they fall, fall, fall.

SPLASH.

It was like Y/n blinked and she missed it. One moment she was at the cliff's edge, then the next she was in the water, holding her breath while simultaneously clutching onto Ao'nung's hand so he couldn't get away even if he wanted to. She looked back to find him, and he was already smiling at her, grinning from ear to ear, eyes full of pride and adoration. He pulled his hand out of hers but only so he could excitedly sign to her, 'You did it!'

Y/n mistakenly laughs underwater, the sound muffled by the sea that runs into her mouth. She sputtered, and Ao'nung tries not to laugh himself, taking Y/n's hand back and helping her swim up to the surface. When she emerges from the water, she was still smiling as she coughed, and to Ao'nung it was one of the most baffling and wonderful sights. It was like watching a baptism. Before, she was just a shell, now she smiled, full of life and love and hope.

The Na'vi believe that every person was born twice, and Ao'nung was starting to believe he had just seen it happen with his own two eyes.

They found themselves laughing. Not sure at what, just laughing, likely from the adrenaline rush. It was definitely fun, and Y/n would love nothing more than to climb back up that cliff and jump again. All those other times she and the other teens would come here, and to think she had missed out on all that fun. She never wanted to miss another second of it. Through her laughter, she had closed her eyes. When she opened them, Ao'nung was still right in her field of view. He still laughed, head floating over the water, flyaways of his hair sticking to the sides of his head, framing his face. Y/n's heart leaped in her chest, similar to the cliff dive. She wadded closer to him, barely to the point Ao'nung didn't notice. They were close now, but Ao'nung didn't realize this until he took a moment to catch his breath and noticed that Y/n was no longer laughing. He opened his eyes and his laugh cuts off, eyes widening out of curiosity, wondering what she was doing.

She laughed under her breath when he looked at her like a curious little puppy. Her laugh is infectious so he continues to do the same, and suddenly her nerves have escaped her. The rush is still there, beating loudly in her chest. Every thought in her head continuously tells her to 'jump, jump, jump!'

Y/n took the leap again, only this time, she jumped at the right opportunity to kiss Ao'nung, silencing their shared laughs and molding their lips together in perfect harmony. If it weren't for the crashing sounds of waves, Y/n thought Ao'nung would be able to hear just how loud her heartbeat was. But he was otherwise occupied, one of his arms automatically finding their home around her waist, the other arm keeping them afloat above water. He eagerly kissed back without hesitation. It was like he knew she was going to kiss him, but didn't at the same time. It was hard to explain. He was obviously surprised by the kiss but he didn't hesitate to respond, knowing that this was something he desperately wanted but had refrained himself from taking it. He was happy to wait for Y/n for as long as she needed, but when she kissed him, Ao'nung decided that he was allowed to be selfish, just this once, until Y/n is ready again.

It was hard for her to admit, but Y/n liked it when Ao'nung was selfish. When she had to part the kiss for air, he had eagerly chased after her for more, and that only made her heart swell in adoration. She giggled, rewarding him a small peck on his mouth whilst she gasped quietly for air, leaning her forehead against his. They embrace like this for a while, basking in the peace and the overwhelming happiness breathing between them, listening to the serene sounds of the ocean and feeling the rushing heartbeat of the person they held in their arms.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. And who else was able to ruin such a moment than Fish Lips himself, "If you wanted to get me alone, Forest Girl, all you had to do was ask."

Y/n scowled lightheartedly, rolling her eyes and pulling a laugh from him as he leans forward and kisses her cheek. She can't help but smile, watching her hands rest comfortably in the spaces between Ao'nung's shoulders and neck, gently pressing her thumbs into his muscle there.

"I knew you'd just find me here eventually."

"Mm. True," Ao'nung grins, "I'll play this hide-and-seek game of yours again if that means you'll kiss me each time as a reward."

The laugh she lets out is the most obnoxious one by far, a downright mockery of him as she playfully flicks his cheek with her finger, "Don't push your luck, Seaweed Brain. And unless you want to deal with our parents when we get back, you need to stop smiling like an idiot."

Oh, shit. The parents. 

A/N: She did what Neteyam told her to do. 'Find more'

NOT the end of the series! More to come soon! If you have a request, put in the ask box! Please read the rules first before you leave a request, thank you!

[mncxbe]

hiii! i hope ur requests are open and if theyre not im very sorry and ignore this!

ive been thinking too much about dazai with a younger reader whos 15 and reminds him a lot of himself. like he remembers what oda said and becomes determined to steer u down the right path

overall becomes a sweet (but very annoying sometimes) big brother figure <333

nonnie♡♡ this is hhh such a nice idea I went a bit silly with it hope u like it. he would definitely try to bring you on the right path. to make things even more interesting let's assume you're from the PM.

The two of you met when he was out on a mission with Atsushi. Naturally, he paid no attention to you, a little scrawny kid scrolling on her phone, walking in their direction. But that was until you suddenly attacked them.

You were so relentless in your fight that you ended up badly injured, so they had to take you back to the Ada office to get treated by Yosano. After all, a Port Mafia member or not, Dazai couldn't bring himself to let a kid die.

When you eventually woke up in the infirmery you saw him standing at the edge of your bed, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched you intently.

"You feeling better kid?" he asked and you only nodded in response, eyes darting around the room, taking in your surroundings.

Dazai noticed the cunning look on your face, the way you scanned the room for possible escapes while still maintaining a nonchalant facade and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Now, now don't worry kid. We'll let you go as soon as you answer some questions"

Dazai asked you about your mission and your involement with your Port Mafia; routine questions mostly: how you ended up working for them, who you serve under, how long you've been with the PM- things to which you gave a half-hearted, disinterested response. But you refused to get into detail about the organization's plans; no matter how much he persuaded you and tried to get inside your head, you just wouldn't break.

With each calculated reply Dazai saw more of his younger self in you; the innate ability to lie like it was your second nature, the way you managed to turn any conversation in your favour and mostly, how impassive you were to any of his threaths.

"You know, if you refuse to cooperate I'm gonna have to get the information out of you in other ways"

You simply sighed, idly picking at your nails. "Well, pain would be bothersome, but I'd rather die than betray the Mafia"

Dazai saw an opening, a slight crack in your carefully built facade "So you're that afraid of what they might do to you if they find out you're a traitor?"

"Nah, but I prefer to stay true to the things I believe in. After all, does life have any value if you give up on your beliefs?"

There it was, the answer he was looking for. Sighing, he rose to his feet, staring down at you "That's quite grim for a kid your age to say."

"I don't think it's grim. More like honest, but who am I to discuss the value of life with you?" you said casually, pointing at his bandages.

"Oh wow touché" he chuckled "But what exactly are those values you're so keenly holding on to, some principles passed down to you by the boss? Can you really call those things values?"

"Sure I can. As long as they give me a purpose to live" For a brief moment you caught a shadow of doubt on the brunette's face. He was conflicted, you could tell.

"You know" he started again "I once thought the same as you do, that good and evil don't matter as long as you do a job and get it done well, but violence and death only give birth to more violence and death. It's a vicious cycle, really, so don't expect to find a purpose or a reason to live in that."

You lowered your gaze, continuing to pick at your nails and he knew the conversation was over. He wasn't gonna get anything out of you.

"Look, kid, you're wasting yourself in there. If you want a reason to live I can give it to you"

"And why would you do that? You don't seem the type to do charity work?"

"Let's just say that that's my purpose in life, to guide people like you on the right path"

"People like me? Meaning petty criminals working for the Mafia?" you inquired mockingly, raising a brow.

Dazai scoffed at your remark "We both know you're more than a petty criminal, but yes. People like you, who don't take life for granted and want to understand its meaning."

"So now you can psychoanalyse me too hm? Are you gonna tell me this mentality of mine comes from the fact that I grew up without a father figure or...?"

Your witty remarks were starting to get to him, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Nah, it comes from the fact that all you've seen in your life is evil and look where this has gotten you. Five years in the Mafia and you're still where you were at the beginning, still searching for a deeper meaning in life. We're more alike than you may think, kid. As I said, I used to be in the same position you're in"

You shrugged, feigning disinterest, but he could tell his words were affecting you.

"And your point is?"

Taking in a deep breath, Dazai combed a hand through his hair "My point is that you should leave the Mafia and join us. Change your perspective. If finding a purpose in life truly is your goal, then you won't regret this decision. Trust me"

You both stood in silence for a while as you considered his proposal. You could technically leave the Mafia, it's not like working there has gotten you anywhere. No matter how many missions you completed or how fast you climbed the ladder, there was still a nagging feeling that you could do more, that there was more to life than this.

You finally raised your gaze to meet his and gave a small nod. "I'll think about it."

"Good, you do that, kid"

Dazai helped you out of the bed and walked you to the front of the building. You left without even saying goodbye, making your way down the street; towards the Port Mafia headquarters. Dazai watched you slowly walk away, your figure growing smaller with each step you took and somewhere deep down he was sure he'd see you again.

[alexa-fika]

Threats for One (Crocodile x gn!Pigeon!reader)

Pt1, Pt2

Doflamingo Version

A/N Guys I have been COOKING in this series 🫦🫦, I really love this series and writing more for it but I have no idea what I can keep adding, I don’t want it to be repetitive either. Like I said I really love writing this series or this type of content that is darkish? The type that makes your stomach flutter, so if you have any requests or ideas please let me know 👀 🔪

Dividers by @/saradika

Crocodile sat in his office looking through paperwork until the door slammed open and a hand slammed down in said papers

“I finished your delivery, now give me the antidote,” they sneer

Crocodile stares at them as they slam the door. His stoic expression shifts to an expression of amusement as a smirk spreads across his lips. He remains silent for a moment, staring at them before chuckling to himself

“You’re a feisty one, I give you that… But, that is quite all right. I expected a bit of resistance from you; I will be honest; I was prepared for you to be a bit more of a handful.” He says with a mocking grin upon his scarred face

“Sit down.”

“To hell with that; I did your damn delivery, so give me the antidote.”

“I said you would get the antidote if you did the delivery; I never specified that you would get the antidote immediately. Now sit.”

They growl, pulling out a small dagger and swiftly slashing it over the stacks of papers he had been previously working on, effectively cutting the stack in half

“Give me the antidote, Crocodile, im not playing this damn twisted game with you.”

The stacks of paper collapse to the floor, but the smile on Crocodile’s face remains, albeit it has turned into something darker, more twisted. He eyes them, slowly and steadily standing up.

“So you’ve taken to threats to get what you want?” He draws a long puff of smoke from his cigar as he talks

“Hm, a bold and violent pigeon…, a rather unique specimen you are.” Crocodile walks around the desk, keeping a close eye on them.

“You must understand, Reader, you are an asset to me, one I can’t lose, right?

“Quite the way you treat your assets.”

“Do you think I’ve treated you badly so far?” He questions mockingly

“Perhaps, but only because a bit of rough handling was required on your end in order for you to understand your place.” He states, circling around them

“But in my opinion, I’ve been rather fair to you, even giving you a diluted antidote in good faith in order for you to get in line.”

“My place? You still seem to be under the impression that I am a mere employee and can’t seem to grasp the fact that I don’t work for you; I am not one of your underlings.”

“It seems we are at an impasse. I see myself as your employer and the Cross Guild as your job, and you seem to see yourself as a freelance worker,” Crocodile says as he circles around them until they are behind them

“A pigeon whose wings I can hold ransom and use to my advantage. Is that not what you are to me? And is it not fair that I’m asking you to be a simple messenger for me?” He says, letting out another puff of smoke as Reader turns around to face him

“I’d say it is a very fair arrangement, Reader. I just expect you to do what you are told; not that difficult, is it?”

“Just give me my damn antidote; find yourself some idiot willing to fall for that crap.”

“Is that really how you think this works? That I would just hire some random idiot to take over your deliveries?” He said, shaking his head

“You are rather mistaken; you have a good track record, no issues with deliveries, and I rather like the idea of having such messenger being one of a kind. That is why I need you. Start listening and sit down,” he said, holding the vial at arm’s length

“Or should I show you what would happen otherwise?” he said, bellowing a thick cloud of smoke

“Ne, Reader, are you sure you want to risk it, hmmm?”

They stared at the antidote hanging from his hands, a slip away from falling and, with it all chance of returning their wings to normal

Crocodile looks at them, the smirk and teasing glint in his eyes fading; instead, a serious, stern expression appears in its place.

“If you value those wings of yours at all, you’ll sit down and behave.”

There is a heavy, thick tension in the air as he keeps the antidote just out of their grasp.

“Sit. Down”

They glance desperately at the antidote

“I-I’m the only one of my kind. You destroy that, and you destroy your so-called asset; your deliveries would be canceled or delayed if we’re being hopeful,” they nervously try to reason

Crocodile lets out a chuckle as they talk

“I think you underestimate my influence. I do admire your sense of self-preservation… and the way you just attempted to use it as a bargaining chip, but you have to understand, Reader, what makes you think you are so irreplaceable?” he says as he continues to keep the antidote juts out of their grasp, dangling it in his fingers

“Losing you would delay deliveries, and some bounties and payments would be likely lost, but I would be able to find a replacement, less efficient and slower, but a replacement nonetheless,” he grumbles, lifting one finger of the vial

“Sit… down…”

“Okay! Okay!” They said, slumping down in the chair

“Please, just don’t destroy it; I need my wings back.”

“Finally, a bit of reason…” a slight smirk on his face slowly growing as he sees them comply.

“Now relax; a bit of trust and compliance can take us a long way,” he says taking a seat in his chair once again, staring at the fuming pigeon in front of him

“But this time, you are on a short leash. There will be none of that nonsense again; you are to do as you are told, is that clear, Reader?” he said gingerly, placing the vial on the table next to him, enough to be tauntingly close to them but far enough to be out of their reach

They glance at the vial, not taking their eyes off it as they speak

“Short leash?” They scoff

“You have me on a short leash already, you damn asshole; you gave me a diluted antidote and a time limit to come back.”

“There is a reason for that, little pigeon,” he responds to their scoff, a sadistic grin on his face

“It’s to ensure you come back in a manner that doesn’t involve me ripping your wings off and handing them to you; after all, you could decide to run off as soon as you get your antidote.”

“Besides, it’s only a few hours. Surely an experienced messenger such as yourself is capable of delivering such a simple package in that time frame?”

“You know what im also capable of doing?”

Crocodile’s expression remains unchanged as they continue to talk

“Enlighten me pigeon. What else are you capable of? Do you think you’ll be able to threaten me?”

“Im capable of using that timeframe to fly myself to a navy base; better yet, I could make one final stretch to make it to Marineford, maybe call for a buster call, im sure they will agree, seeing as three former warlords reside in it sending bounties for them”

Crocodile’s smile grows, growing dangerous as the second tick by

He leans back in his chair, taking a long drag from his cigar

“Hm, you are truly unpredictable, and that is very concerning. It seems, that you are going to be a lot more annoying than I already anticipated,” he mutters, letting slip a rather annoyed sigh.

“Try me.”

Crocodile stares at them with a smug, almost mocking grin, his cold eyes looking them up and down.

“Go ahead, go on ahead and try pigeon. I dare you to run off.”

A malicious smirk begins to spread across his face at the thought of them trying to run off

“We both know I’ll just catch up to you in a heartbeat and tear your wings off and string them to my belt before the Marines could even finish blinking.

Do you really not trust me not to have a contingency plan for any attempt to run off? Are you so confident in your ability to outrun me that you would wager your very wings?”

“You can’t be over me 24/7, Crocodile; perhaps I'll just take a detour in one of your deliveries to visit the good ol marines,” they taunt

“Hm, you sure have gained a rather large ego from a minimal amount of independence, Reader; such a shame…” he sighs, shaking his head like a disappointed parent

“You can try to make a detour at the marine base; I’d even welcome it; it gives me more of a reason to teach you your place.” Crocodile’s grimace darkens as he continues

In the blink of an eye, Crocodile had removed the hook and revealed the sharp knife that lay underneath, the blunt weapon now resting in Reader’s neck, tilting up the weapon and forcing them to move along with the knife to avoid getting nicked by the blade

“Or perhaps I should show you another lesson to help with your compliance?”

They glanced down at the knife pointed at them, attempting to back away from it, only to be stopped by a pillar of sand behind them, preventing any escape from the current threat

“There appears to be a slight misunderstanding here, little pigeon…

“You seem to believe you have the ability and the choice to escape? No, no, no, I’m in no mood to let that happen right now. he said as he pressed the sharp blade just a bit harder into their throat, causing a small red drop of blood to fall and roll down to the table

“I’ve entertained this game of yours…, but I fear it has gone on long enough little pigeon.”

“Then give me the antidote, and I’ll be off,” they mutter, wincing at the feeling of the dagger piercing their skin

A look of annoyance, mixed with boredom, fills his eyes as he looks over them

“I do Applaud your attempt, but do you really believe I’d make it that easy for you to gain the item you desire and run away in hopes of never having to serve me again?

Unfortunately, that is simply not how it works, little pigeon; you are a prized possession and asset of mine now. I’m afraid we will have to spend time with this arrangement for a while longer,” he said, grinning once again as he continued leaning closer to Reader as they tried to back away from him, stopped by the pillar of sand

“Truth of the matter is, I don’t trust you, little pigeon. And I don’t plan on letting you get too far off into our game.”

They glare at him, quickly running out of ways to defend their case and obtain their antidote, and both of them were highly aware of who had the winning hand

“Not so eager, are we, little pigeon? What happened to that bravery of yours? That defiance of running away to the Marines.” he smirked

“Let me give you a little tip: sometimes compliance just ends up being the simpler solution to a complex problem… and the easier path is almost always the preferable one,” he said, leaning back against his chair once again, putting their hook back over their dagger the sand pillar behind Reader slowly crumbling to the ground, he swiftly threw a vial and a pack of posters in their direction

They grunted as they easily caught the items

“That’s what I like to see, little pigeon, compliance.” Crocodile’s eyes narrowed once again, the smirk on his face growing wide

“That dilution should be enough to lift the poison for a few hours so that you can deliver those new bounties to the civilians in the neighboring islands.”

They grit their teeth, standing and heading for the door, only to be stopped as Crocodile calls for them once again

“What.” They growl

“Next time you try to pull off something like this again, I will be taking that tongue of yours, so be smart and keep it in your mouth rather than spouting nonsense that will only bring you more punishments.”

They tighten their fists but continue walking, only to once again be stopped by a pillar of sand; they glance back at the perpetrator of their blocked exit

“Am I being Clear?”

“Yes,” they hiss

“Now let me do my job.”

“Seems my ears are failing me. Would you repeat that? Am I being clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

I was thinking of maybe Mihawk appearing on the next part bur idk cause my head is empty so if y’all have any ideas or suggestions on what could happened then maybe I can write another part with mihawk??

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[harryhoney-bee]

Recently I've been dealing with a lot of stress and anxiety. I was wondering if you could write something about what Harry would do to calm you down.

Peace

Summary: Y/n has bad anxiety, but knows Harry is always there for her

Warnings: mentions os anxiety

Word count: less than 1k

I literally do not know how to write anymore it's been 2 years so im sorry for any mistakes

..

He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped foot into their shared flat. Y/N was usually right by the door whenever she heard him coming from the hallway, but the only creature who greeted him as Harry entered their home was Chimichurri, the old and - kinda ugly - cat Y/N had adopted when discovered it was the smallest one in the litter.

The cat rubbed its tail against Harry’s ley, which was covered by the heavy snow pants the man was wearing. He had just come back from a long day at the studio and all he wanted was to cuddle with his wife. 

Wife!

They got married a few months ago. It was a small ceremony, away from the public. Most people were even surprised it had happened so fast… They had been dating only a year before Harry put a rock - a rather big one- on Y/N’s finger. But what could they do? 

When you know, you know.

Harry bent down, just enough to scratch the poor cat's ear. “Hey Chimi, where’s your mom, huh? She's sleeping?” Cat waited a few seconds as if the cat was going to respond. “I told you, when I’m gone you are the one responsible for keeping her well.” 

The cat meowed in response, following Harry to the kitchen, where the purr ball knew he was going to get some treats. Harry opened the cabinet, took a package of Whiskas, and poured it into Chimichurri’s bowl. “Now you be a good boy and stay here while I go looking for mum, alright?”

Harry gave the cat a last glance before heading to their bed, where he expected to find his love. He could hear the faint sound of the TV on, and as he got closer he could identify the voices, it was Amy and Jake from Brooklyn 99. 

He sighed. This was a bad sign, Y/N only watched the Tv show if she was sad.

Waiting for the worst, Harry opened the door, finding Y/N wrapped around blanks, an impassive expression on her face. She didn’t hear him as he got closer to her. “Hey beauty,” Harry kissed her cheeks, smiling as the girl looked up to him, cracking a small smile. 

“I thought you were coming home later today,” Y/N whispered, feeling the prickling of his beard on her skin.

“Nah, couldn’t look at Mitch’s face anymore,” Harry joked. He carefully held her chin, making the girl while caressing her cheekbone with his thumb. “What happened, what got you down?”

Y/N's face initially showed surprise; she thought she had concealed at least a bit of her mental state, but she clearly forgot how well Harry could read her. She got closer to Harry, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him down. The couple laid on the bed, Y/N’s cheeks pressed to Harry's heart, hearing it beat. “I’m not well, H.”

‘I know you aren't, angel,” He turned his face down, looking at her eyes. “Tell me what it is and I’ll fix it, you know I will.! 

“I don’t think you can this time,” she whispered

Y/N battled with anxiety for a long time, something she would get so caught up in her head and now one could take her away from her thoughts. Harry was aware that the only person who could get Y/N better was herself, but he also knew how important his help was.

“Did you schedule with Marcia yet?” Harry asked. 

“No, could you? Please?” she asked with a small voice.

“Of course, love.” Marcia was Y/N’s therapist, it’s been some weeks since Y/N last saw her for an appointment, and it was time for another. Harry quickly got his phone, messaging Marcia’s receptionist. The room was quiet, only the sounds of Harry’s phone could be heard.

“Done,” he said, kissing Y/N lightly on the lips. “Wanna talk about it?” 

She took his hand, playing with his rings. “No, not right now…Maybe later?” She said uncertainly. 

Harry just nodded, kissing her forehead this time. “You know I'm here whenever you need me.”

“You are always here,” She whispered, “It gives me peace.”

“Knowing I’m here?” He whispered back.

“Yes.”

They fell asleep just like that, cuddling each other as Jake said something that made Amy laugh.

The next morning came by as a hope offering. 

Y/N was still asleep when Harry placed a plate full of chocolate pancakes in front of her. “Wha-What is that?” Y/N asked lazily, rubbing her eye off sleepiness.

“A sweet breakfast in bed for my sweet girl,” Harry responded, caressing Y/N's cheeks. “I know yesterday was not a good day for you, and I don’t know how today is gonna come by, but I’m here to make sure it all comes around ok.”

Y/N smiled as she quickly ate her pancakes, stealing kisses from Harry as he watched her happy, warmth in his chest whenever she looked at him.

[prettyboykatsuki]

solanum dulcamara | r. itoshi

★ tags ; aged-up characters (rin and reader are in their 20's), age-gap (reader is older but there's no specifics), sub!itoshi rin, fem + afab!dom!reader, dacryphilia, established relationships and dom/sub dynamics, edging, overstimulation, subspace (rin falls head first), mommy kink, praise, teasing (reader is a bit mean), petnames for rin (spoiled little boy, sweet boy, good boy, sweetie etc.), riding, unprotected sex, face-sitting, cum-eating aftercare, 18+

★ wc ; 5.7k (frowns)

★ a/n ; ive done something bad to my brain </3 he is so baby boy.... i've gone and made myself sick just thinking about it.

i just want to clarify that this version of rin is only really accessible thru a lot of established trust and persistence. reader is incredibly attentive to him and they have a very establish bond both romantically and in a d/s dynamic. im not super confident abt his characterization but i tried to still make it feel like Him.

★ synopsis ; rin is so pretty when he cries.

The T.V. is on in the background. It's the interview you filmed a month ago, per the request of your boyfriends P.R.

"Another question from our viewers, what's your usual type in men?"

"Ah, is that okay to ask?" You reply sheepish. The interviewer waves his hand in dismissal of your concern.

"Asking when I'm already taken, so cruel. Mm, I like men who cry easily."

"Ehh? You're going to make your boyfriend sad!"

"It's fine, it's fine. He's special so it's okay."

Before Rin can watch anymore, you pick the remote up and click it off. You've just come out of a shower, towel hanging off the back of your neck. Water drips down your skin despite having dried off. The vague scent of fruit hits him as he blinks back at you. You bend forward in front of him.

"Hi." You greet, smiling. Your eyes have a particular shine to them that sends a signal of warning through RIn's body. It's been there since before you started dating. It's persisted all throughout your relationship. He never gets used to it.

He stares back at you "Hi."

You cock your head then laugh. 

"Why'd you turn the T.V. off?" He asks. You shrug, sitting next to him with your feet up on the coffee table, stretching slightly.

"Hearing my own voice feels weird."

You scrunch your nose in displeasure. When Rin sees you like this - cozy and comfortable, he can't help but be extra conscious of the air you seem to hold. Innocent isn't the right word. Simplistic might be better. There's nothing malicious about you, usually.

Even knowing that, heat curls into his body. The hairs stand on his neck. He knows almost intuitively what's coming.

"Aw, did you wanna watch my interview, Rinnie? How sweet."

He scowls at the name of endearment, then lies through his teeth.

"No." He says simply. You coo under your breath like you would a misbehaving cat. Before he can move away, your hand reaches the opposite side of his face, fingers trailing his jaw until he faces towards you.

"Liar." You say, and it's there again and Rin can feel it. It takes effort not to turn away. Not to stand to his feet and go run laps.

Rin knows, objectively, he's so much faster than you. But, some part of him is convinced he could never outrun you. You'd pin him down somehow, he's sure of it. Swift and easy. You'd wait till he was tired out and strike after—smile down at him in satisfaction towards the end.

That's just how you are. Rin doesn't dislike it.

Your fingers splay to cup his face, your thumb rubbing against his lower lip. Familiar gestures and touches don't ease his nerves. You admire him openly. Rin feels like the Earth is going to swallow him whole. He's not unused to being fawned at. He got confessed to all the time in high school but it never caught his interest.

Dating seemed pointless. Lukewarm. The first time Rin told this to you, instead of a hurt reaction like he'd gotten from other girls interested in him, you laughed. Quietly to yourself, remaining impassive.

Amused. A mirth to your eyes. Like you've stumbled upon a puzzle yet to solve. A predator with interesting prey.

("Being lukewarm is better than freezing." )

Itoshi Rin thinks you are a strange, strange person. He thinks you have strange tastes. He thinks you are strange company and that your smile is too disarming. He thinks it's strange that everyone is convinced you're nice and well-meaning when he knows you are. You are but you're not.

You are nice. Kind is a better word. Warm and forgiving and tender. You're like that even like this, when being around you feels like being thrown into the snakes den. If Rin doesn't pay attention, he's sure he'll get eaten completely.

But he lowers his guard anyway. Being devoured and being desired are the same sensation, he finds.

"Rin," You offer, an inch away from kissing him. He swallows a thick sensation in the back of his throat. He feels jumpy. "Did I make you sad, hm?"

'No." He insists.

"Really?" You grin at him. You smell sweet "But it's true, you know? I like when men cry in front of me."

A shiver wracks through him.

"Don't talk about other men in front of me." He says lamely. It's all he can say. You laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry. Then what should I say instead?" You look thoughtful as you kiss him. Rin lets you. He trusts you enough to let you kiss his face all over in this overly doting way "Rin, when was the last time you cried?"

"I don't remember." He says. It's a lie. Probably after Sae came back, he should answer.

"Liar. Bad boy, you shouldn't lie to your girlfriend. Are you embarrassed about crying?"

"No."

"Lie again, and I'll punish you." You tsk, then kiss him slow. On the lips this time. In that deep mesmerizing way that makes the insides of Rin's stomach feel like honey over flame. He gets jealous thinking about where you learned it all from. He knows your older and more experienced and that you love him despite all that, but he's jealous anyways.

If you could hear it, you'd call Rin spoiled with that same amusement you always regard him with.

"Rin," There's a little more urgency in your voice this time. It satisifes a part of Rin he doesn't know intimately. He didn't think it was there before he met you "I want to make you cry."

"Why?"

"I like seeing you like that." You tell him honestly  "I like it so much when you look like that. Of course I feel bad too, but."

"Why the hell would you like that?" He asks, voice raspy with less anger than he would hope for. You invite yourself into his lap. Rin doesn't stop you. Your arms around his neck feel like a choker but there's something so comforting about the feeling of being suffocated.

You let your hands cup the nape of his neck, the other hand brushing his skin. Knuckles along his cheek with nothing but affection. You smile.

"When you look helpless and needy like that, I want you to depend on me." You say sweetly, so saccharine it makes Rin nauseous. "When you look sad and lonely, I want to comfort you so I can keep you all to myself."

"...Were you like this with your other boyfriends?"

"Mm, would you be sad if I said yes? But I didn't like any of them, y'know? They just came onto me because they liked being bullied."

He gives you a look of displeasure that makes you laugh.

"I only like you," You assure, your tone shifting again. Still familiar. The kind, gentle version of you seeping in through the cracks "I love you most of all. Only you."

"Stop that." He tucks his chin because he can't look up at you. You grin widely "You're weird."

You pull him towards you, hugging him tight.

"My Rin is the best in the world, hm?"

He thinks you're bad for him, in some ways. Good in more ways too. This kind of feeling, he isn't sure where it falls on the scale. It feels good, at least. Makes his head feel heavy with something even though all of his hairs stand on end. There's resistance before there's desire to succumb.

"Weird." He mutters, unable to stop himself from slipping into you.

"I wanna make you cry so I can wipe your tears off your face. I'll bet you're so pretty."

"You say stuff  like that so easily it scares me."

"Don't be scared. It's all because I love you, okay? I love you sooo much."

He clicks his teeth "You're pushing it."

"Because I know you'll forgive me. Now, take off your clothes and tell me your colors."

"Red for stop, green for go, yellow for slow down." Rin says on automatic before blushing.

"There you go." You reply, pleased with yourself.

Ultimately, Rin listens. You're right in your assessment. He'll always forgive you no matter the circumstance. Despite himself and all the warnings - he'll listen to you obediently. You help Rin take off his clothes. Manicured fingers drag up the sides of his body, along the anterior muscles of his abdomen. 

His shirt comes first. When it's off , you stare at him long and hard. Tilting his head back, you press a kiss to his Adam's apple before your fingers tug on his nipples. He lets out a sharp noise that makes you hum against his skin, throaty and pleased. He can feel your teeth on his neck and the warmth of your cunt against his jeans even through all the thick layers of fabric.

"They're always so sensitive," You say, running your thumb over them "Such a pretty color."

"Stop talking." He hisses, throwing his head back. You giggle at him.

His cock twitches at the sharp sensation. You latch yourself to the column of his throat - a familiar bruising throb making his whole body ache. Kissing and licking and biting every visible inch of his body while your free hand plays with his chest.

The roles should be reversed here, he's sure, but he can't remember a time they ever were. At least properly, with Rin initiating of his own volition. Not just being permitted by you to do so, but actually doing it all on his own.

He stifles a groan, hand cupped over his mouth as you pleasure his body. You play him like a well-tuned machine. A practiced handler for all of his more delicate parts and functions.

The blood rushing to his cock makes him light headed. The motions are  well-practiced ones. You know just the right way to tease the hardened buds under the pads of your fingers, how to pinch with the tips of your nails until it's unbearable . The soft drags of your fingers, nails scratching the skin until it's red and raised. He's always been pale. White, milky skin that blooms into different shades of bruise. Colors you like, anyway.

You make a show of undoing his belt buckle. The noise is so audible, the soft clack of metal echoes as it gets undone. Unzipping his jeans, you cup your palm around his semi-hard cock and squeeze tight like you're holding his hand. He shudders, only saved by the thin material of his boxers.

You let your thumb trace under the head, still through the black cotton. You press it into the sticky tip, rubbing small circles with a gleeful giggle. He huffs. Making the mistake of looking at you directly sends him into a frenzy. Your expression is vulgar when you peer at him - lips tucked between your teeth and eyes full of hot white desire. Rin can feel how much you want this. How much you want him. You express it openly.

(He wants it just as bad. Maybe worse.)

You hook your finger into the edge of his boxers, peeking inside.

"Your cock is so pretty," Your sincerity sends electricity through his spine. He chokes "So cute."

"Don't talk about it like that."

"It's cute to me though?" You say, a horrifyingly genuine assessment as you push the fabric down enough to sit under his balls - leaving him exposed and stood up to attention. You wrap a hand around the shaft, leaning in to bite his earlobe "It's cute when it gets red like that. Your ears get red like that too."

Rin watches you with his eyes blown wide as you lift your fingers to your mouth, dragging your tongue along the middle and ring. You fuck them into your mouth slowly, until saliva drips down on them and the act is so salacious he thinks his heart is going to give. When they're nice and wet, you wrap them around the base. 

The  sensation makes his body clench. A suddenly warm and slick feeling surrounds him. You're good with your hands. Too good, actually. The exact pressure and speed without having to try - this isn't the first time you've touched Rin like this so he knows it all too well.

But there's something about this time that makes it different. You're slower as you work your palm against his cock, pushing the curve up against his tip and circling it without touching it long enough. He stares down at you as you do it. Your other hand fondles his balls, thumb teasing the seam as you squeeze them.

"Did you touch yourself without me, Rin?"

"No," He admits. This time it's not a lie. You smile.

"What a good boy."

Fuck. He shivers.

"My good boy. My Rin, all mine forever right?" You say, not expecting him to respond. But it's not babble, not pointless chatter. It's what he wants to hear.

Possession. Yes, he thinks. All yours forever.

Of course he doesn't say it. Not there yet, and unsure if he ever will be but it feels good to hear anyway. Rin has always been humiliated by his own desire. Before you, he thinks he did a good job of keeping it a secret. He didn't explore his sexuality in a way that was meaningful for good reason, avoiding it all together.

You changed that. He wanted you. And you wanted him, always, with such intensity that Rin found it hard to stop thinking about. Rin has always been weak to you.

And you're like this. Straightforward and open and so attractive it makes him feel like he's going to sink. To be wanted in this way that wraps him up in reassurance, to be taken care of. You want all of him. Even his tears. Even though he resists because it’s not something he knows how to cope with even now. 

Would anyone dislike that if they got it as easily as he does?

You keep doing the same hand motions, stroking his cock at this slow pace that drives him up a wall. His chest heaves as you switch the pace. Fast, fast, slow. Over and over until he's at the edge. His whole body tenses, though his hands remained tucked at his sides.

Then you stop. Completely. Leaving your hands up, you peek at him through your lashes as he lets out a ragged breath. A look of irritation on his expression, quickly washed out by fear at the amusement on your face.

"Cry for me, baby." You say satisfied with yourself, thumb pressing into his slit "I'll let you cum after."

"You're," He swears under his breath as you start again, cock sensitive now "You're..."

"I'm what, baby? I'm mean? Weird?"

He shivers as you lean forward, hugging your arm around his shoulders, hand reaching down to drag your nails lightly up his spine. The sensations all feel mixed together and with your body all pressed to him, he can feel every outline of you. Every curve. The scent of you tickles the back of his throat again. You wrap around him like a vine, curled around his wrists and ankles and throat. Trapped, suspended by the presence of you.

He wants to cum, but the first time you deny it like this isn't so bad.

"Look at you holding it in so well," You start, though Rin can feel how much more is at the end of your sentence "Can you keep touching yourself for me, then? Slow like this."

Rin nods, though he isn't sure there's much of a choice. You kiss him in reward, standing back up on your feet. He watches you as you turn around. You pull your pants down the curve of your ass, leaving a pair of panties plainly in view and Rin feels his dick twitch in his hands. Fuck. You're so wet it's dripping down your leg. Knowing he did that to you is enough to make him groan.

Plus your bare skin, soft and smooth from being showered and lotioned is too much for him to try and endure.

You repeat the action with your shirt, but there's nothing underneath. When you're almost naked, you make a show of bending over to take your panties off. There's a noise as the thin cotton unsticks from your soaked cunt, material roll down your legs. It's just enough to get an eyeful of your pussy.

Soft and hot and so fucking wet. He feels restless. His hand isn't doing the job. He wants to be inside. Closer to you. You're all naked when you turn around and Rin is still mostly clothed. You crawl in his lap and move his hands away when you're straddling him again.

Cruel and unrelenting, you grab his cock again but this time you pull it against you. Grind yourself against his shaft, rubbing his tip against your clit deliberately. The sensation is making him bite down on his cheek hard enough that he might bleed. Soaking pussy, sticky and welcoming.

"You're trying so hard today," You say, half-way between sincere and condescending. His head is starting to get mushy, like his tongue doesn't fit in his mouth. "You don't have too, yknow?"

"What a-are you…?"

It's too fucking much. Too many senses stimulated. Too many feelings pouring out of him as he listens to you talk.

You're throbbing. He can feel you as you slide his cock between your folds with your hands, a slow and controlled pace that sends him teetering over the edge with each pass. It's so slick that it's noisy, and you have to be careful not to slip. Your fingers are covered in arousal just like his cock—so fucking messy, and it's dripping down his shaft in beads. It's wearing down his will. The one he's currently using to maintain his pride.

For Rin, loss always has to come at ultimate defeat. He hates things that are half-assed. Neck in neck, close to winning but not quite. That kind of thing is too frustrating. It has to be all encompassing. Rin wants to give in only when he can longer bear the weight of losing. Loss so utterly undeniable he can do nothing but be pinned underneath. 

When you tell Rin he's trying too hard, the condescension is not for nothing. Because you know just as well as he does that you can take him apart easily. Crushing defeat through actions and patience. That's been your M.O. from the start. This is you giving him lee way. It's not like you'll make fun of him if he gives in. 

Because you are sweet and you are kind and if Rin had even an ounce less of shame - you'd spoil him without thinking twice. He's only managed to do it once before and it was probably the best he's ever felt. But he can't default to it. Despite how much he wants too, he can’t just let go. Doing this much is complicated. Listening is complicated and his brain is so full of self-doubt he’s starting to shake. 

But then, there’s you. The sound of your voice that makes it all stop. 

"Can't just let go, can you sweetie?" And Rin trembles at the slight edge, just barely there "I think it's cute, though. You're so cute, aren't you, Rin?"

"I'm not—"

"I mean, look at how you're tensing your muscles trying not to fuck up into me, huh? Guess you're not any different from other guys.  When you see somethin' soft and wet for you to fuck you lose all your common sense."

He chokes on a moan so loud he can't believe it's coming from him.

"Shouldn't resist it so hard. You can be my spoiled little boy. That's what Rin likes best, right?"

Normally, Rin admires your smooth talk. He doesn't have it in him to mimic it, sentences too awkward and too clumsy to sound good. You talk to him like this like it's so easy. Conversational. Rin doesn't hate it about you, but right now it's the worst thing he could hear.

He's slipping into it slowly. Like he's hanging onto the edge of a cliff and you're pulling his fingers off one-by-one. Your pussy is so wet and he's so fucking hard. Nothing makes any sense anymore. He can’t tell left from right and he wants to run away. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to stop but he wants to run away. 

"You're drooling," You coo, free hand wiping the corner of his mouth. He burns with embarrassment "How sweet."

He can feel himself, the edge again - this time so close he can practically taste it. And the second the knot gets close to being untied, you stop all over again. Rin curses so loud he practically yells, his whole body lurching forward to hump into something before you push him all the way back down.

Officially overstimulated, he looks up at you desperately. You look so absolutely delighted he almost wants to shove you away.

"There it is. Look at you, baby, Just a little more."

He doesn't know how long he can keep up. This part of this is a trust fall. Rin could probably cry right now. Being pushed to this extent, till his head and his body are all out of sorts. Till there's too many thoughts jumbled up and tangled to fight. It makes Rin want to cry. It makes him want to seethe. To curl into himself and abandon everything. 

He’s scared, admittedly. But there’s you, again. And so he breathes and watches you and doesn’t want to stop. 

You keep your pace, rubbing his cock relentlessly against your pussy. So much of the same thing, but you're focused on nothing but him. Even when it feels good for you, when you moan or sigh, your eyes are glued to watching. Watching his cock twitch erratically, little dribbles of precum spilling out but never being able to come through completely. That you swipe up with your fingers and add to the mess you're making.

It'd feel so good right now. You're so wet, fuck — you might even push him out if he puts it in. Rin wants and wants and wants. The magnitude of it is truly, truly terrifying.

But you take him through it slowly. Then the words fall out of your lips slowly - gently, almost a secret.

"Mommy's pretty boy," You rasp, so low that it's barely there but it makes the entire world stop at once. He shudders, his whole body trembles. He can feel himself falling completely and the sudden desperation has him clutching your hips. The emotion is so overwhelming. Only you could ever do this to him. You're the only person allowed. A bittersweetness to all of it that makes Rin yield despite his efforts.  "My sweet boy."

The praise makes him feel like he's melting. Mommy makes it okay. He doesn't know who he is currently. It's not his job too. He just looks up at you and hopes that everything carries over. 

You cup your hands on his face, sticky and messy and look up at him. He stares at you as you smile, eyes blown wide and floaty. 

"There you are," You say, so sweet Rin wants to sink "Mommy's here. 's okay."

He's lost himself in it completely. He's not drowning, but he's submerged in water with no room to look for light. Just you, only you.

"Hi," He says, staring at you. Relief fills him "I love you."

You smile, kissing his forehead "I love you more, Rinnie. It's oka—oh. Oh, there it is."

He blinks and suddenly his visions blurred. Then there's tears, though it's not a sob. They're hot and wet and make his eyes sting. You wipe them with the driest part of your hand.

"You're so pretty when you cry." You tell him. He's needy. He leans against your shoulder, mumbling.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, baby. Lemme see. C'mere?"

He listens, lets you stare at him as hot wet tears roll down his face. He's sure when he's more cognizant he'll be ashamed. Right now he doesn't care.

"Fuck, that's it," You lean forward, licking a stripe up the side of his cheek that sends shivers up his spine, swallowing his tears "So, so pretty. You did well. What should I give you, hm?"

"Inside," He rasps, voice shot completely as he holds your hips "Please."

"Be more specific, my love."

"Please let me cum inside." He can hear his own voice echo in the back of his head, the words coming out so slurred.

"Good boy," You purr. He shakes. Like you read his mind, you pet the back of his hair soothing him "You can hug me, sweetheart. I don't mind."

So he does. Picks his arms up and wraps them around your bare middle and holds you close. He buries his face into your neck, cheek pressed against your shoulder. You pat his head, scratching your nails against his scalp. He sits still like that for a minute, nudging his nose across your skin, leaning you back so he can get a mouth around your tits.

He sucks gently, drunk off of it. You laugh airily, repositioning slightly (carefully) so he doesn't have to pull away. He can feel the head of his cock against your entrance and he moans. 

He can't help but moan as soon as you even get close. The sensation is so unreal. So dripping wet that it's hard for you to get it in completely, slippery silken walls that make it hard for him to push in. When he feels the tip enter, he groans. His whole body gives like a rope on it’s last thread, teeth gritted as he ruts his hips to fuck into you. It doesn't even take any effort to push. You sink down on it slowly, soothing him and telling him to hold it until he bottoms out.

He does, impatiently. He waits until he's all the way at the bottom before looking up at you again. 

"Good boy. Easy does it. It'll feel better to cum since you're all the way inside, right? I can do whatever you want, but if you cum before me - you'll have to make up for it. Okay? Still with me?"

He nods.

"And your color?"

"'s green."

"Good job. That's it, baby. How do you want it?"

"Can I..?"

"You wanna fuck me?"

He nods, hazed. You smile at him.

"To your heart's content. Go ahead. Hold me here, 'kay?"

Rin listens, no longer trying to fight off the urge to listen. He holds you by your hips, latching his mouth to your chest again before fucking into you slow. Your pussy is a vice grip on his cock, and he's so overstimulated as is - he knows he doesn't have much of a will to hold it in. He tries though, quivering with each thrust as he holds you up in his arms.

You mumble to him, the praise is short but sweet and each word makes his brain feels like it's gonna melt out of his ears. He feels good, a pleasant buzzing numbness all over his body that has him reeling. You work as an anchor for him, stroking and petting and kissing him as he works himself into a frenzy.

He can barely get the words out of his mouth as he feels the pressure inside of him start to build. The knot coiled so tightly is unraveling quicker than he can piece it back together. He can't hold it, he can't, he can't, he can't. His thrusts are erratic, too sloppy. Chasing his own high as he fucks into you hard and fast.

"Gonna cum for me? Mommy's sweet boy, gonna fill me up all nice?"

He croaks out the words "Y-yeah. Yeah, fuck."

"There you go. That's it."

Rin cums so hard he sees white, specks like stars in his vision. The sensation borders unbearable. It's such an intense wave of emotion he can't do anything but groan, gripping you hard and bottoming out completely before painting your insides stark white. Thick, hot spurts of cum that he keeps fucking into, overstimulating himself. It just feels so good. So good and so perfect and his mouth is agape - gasping for air as his body goes limp. You kiss him as it happens, swallowing the moans out of his mouth with a delighted smile.

He's ragged by the time it's all out, more coming in a second wave with less intensity. The wave of euphoria that washes over him doesn't bring him back down like he thought it would. He still looks at you, head blank as you smile down at him. You kiss his hairline.

"You with me? Think I should call it quits tonight."

"No. Want you to—you can sit, 'm fine."

It's like you can read his mind.

"You want me to sit on your face even though you just came in me? Think you're up for that?"

"'s fine."  He says one more time, too embarrassed to do anything more. Maybe you're feeling merciful because you don't make him say please. Just laugh, sliding his soft cock out of you slowly.

"Think you're gonna be okay? Wanna lay down?"

"I can sit on the floor. If it's okay."

He can feel how small his voice sounds, a feeling of shame overwhelming him. You rub his cheek affectionately.

"If you say so. Don't need to do anything but stick your tongue out and listen, but my sweet boy is good at listening, isn't he?"

He flushes. "Hn."

You give him a delighted smile, a proud one that makes him reel. Before he can pull away, you tell him to get down on the floor. He listens, back against it with his head laid back on the cushions. He can see his cum starting to drip out of you as you stand, his heart hammering in your ears.

The couch creak under the weight of your knees as you hover yourself over Rin's face. You thread your fingers through his hair and he sticks his tongue out without thinking twice. He can feel all the mess, your cum and his in his mouth - bitter and tangy as he lets his hand grip on your hips. Your clit is hard to attention as you grind against his tongue. He feels good as you groan with pleasure over him.

"I'm so worked up ‘cause of you. My pretty boy," You praise, before rocking your hips against his face. The feeling of you is suffocating, your thighs locked around his head. He can only breathe in the warm air surrounding you. You taste so fucking good. His nose is bumped against your pelvis as you tug harder and start an easy rhythm.

You rut back and forth and Rin suctions to give you a little more friction. You praise him for it.

"Fuck, Rin. I'm gonna—gonna c-cum."

Rin moans against you in approval and that seems to be enough to set you on edge. You hold hard onto the roots of his hair, your thighs clenching as you cum hard on his face after fucking it. He can feel your walls spasm, pushing the mess into his mouth. He swallows it obediently anyways, content to let you ride out your high until you're no longer able too.

When you sit up, you swipe Rin's lower lip with your thumb with a warm smile, putting your thumb in his mouth.

"Let's go clean up, baby."

__ 

For Rin, the process of aftercare usually tends to be a lot of grounding. A bath, usually, with the two of you talking about nothing in the process. You wash Rin’s hair for him and wash-up together and then eat something. Rin’s spoiled, really, so you usually cook for him when he asks. 

Afterwards, the emotional exhaustion sets in. You retire yourself both to bed with snacks. Rin gets to pick (a thriller movie, you’ve let him have today) and he lays there in a hoodie with his face tucked into your side as you play with his hair. It’s vulnerable. A thing he can only access with you, after all this coaxing and trust. He tries not to think too hard about what this all means. That you have sex like this, and Rin submits to you willingly. He doesn’t want to know what it says about himself. 

It’s hard for him to wrap his head around it entirely. Why it feels so good to leave it all to you. Why being doted on like that is so soothing. Despite all the time it takes to unravel him enough to give in, you always execute flawlessly and Rin is… happy at the end of it. Even though he can only admit that begrudgingly. 

Rin leans into the warmth of your body as you gently stroke his hair. He looks up at you as you scroll on your phone, a silent plea for attention. You glance down and give him a laugh. 

“Hi, my love” 

“What are you looking at?” He asks, masking the petulance in his voice just barely. You giggle. 

“Twitter. People are asking if you cry a lot because of my interview.” 

“You’re such an idiot. Did you even mean that?” He says, leaning up to be closer to you. He headbutts you lightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek right after. 

“Sorta. It was mostly a plot to bully you about it. I am an idiot, and you love me so much about it.” 

“Unfortunately.” He says, rolling his eyes. He can feel the barest smile on his face and goes to look away as he hugs you close to him. You give a stare full of warmth that he wants to shy away from but can’t bring himself too. You press a tender kiss to his head. 

“Mommy loves you so much, yeah? More than anything in the whole wide world.” 

“I told you I was fine earlier. I don’t feel bad or anything.” He says when you use the title. He thinks you’re reassuring him because you’re concerned, but you just shrug. 

“I just wanted to tell you that.” 

He frowns “...I love you too. I guess.” 

You snort. Rin smiles as you turn to face him and hug him close. 

“Thanks for telling me, baby.”

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

Chapter 21.5

im still on hiatus but this was for funsies...a break away from byakuya's pov for a moment hehe

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

this is just like wizard of oz if the wizard was junko enoshima. pay no attention to the girl behind the monitors....

featuring a special surprise guest!! :) (:

@digitaldollsworld (^^)//

Content warning tags: passing mention of surgery and blood

< previous - from start - next >

“I am done.”

The voice behind her is dull and gravelly with lethargy, belonging to someone both young and aged. Junko Enoshima hadn’t heard the door open, but she’s hardly startled - she’d been expecting him, after all - and with a flourish, she leans back from the grid of monitors before her and shoves off the desk to spin her chair, knees tucked up to her chest. One, two, three clockwise spins later - a new record, nice - and she slows to a stop, angled perfectly to face the man before her.

And she smiles, as she notes the blue latex gloves still on his hands, the blood splattered up his arms to the rolled-up sleeves of his white dress shirt. “Aw, thanks Zuzu! You’re a treat,” She winks and blows an exaggerated kiss, to no reaction. Not even a half-raised hand to try and catch it. “Was it hard?”

Izuru Kamakura doesn’t respond at first. He’s wiping off the blood - still shiny and slightly wet - off of his pale arms with a stained handkerchief, his hair swaying like a dark curtain around him. “...Not particularly.” He replies in his usual monotone, as if the whole ordeal had been terribly boring to him. ‘Not particularly’ he said, as if the whole process hadn’t taken several weeks, with multiple surgeries - including one where he had left the operating table with his scrubs still on to find a better donor, because the one she had on hand just happened to not be a very good match. “If that is all, I will leave now.”

“Noo, come on! You just got here,” She complains, childishly, needling, despite knowing full well that he’d been here far longer than he originally intended already. Well, it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be, and all the action was here anyways.  “Don’t you wanna see how your precious juniors are doing?”

He doesn’t reply, but she knows he does. Otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered turning up in the first place, whether she requested his help or not; they’re just like each other, in that way. Reaching behind her, she grabs a remote, and points it at one of the monitors, and immediately its previous image of the empty second-floor hallway fizzes out, replaced with a replay of the day’s highlights, edited and cut by hers truly.

It opens with a theme song. A lovely little leitmotif that she composed, one for each of her dear classmates, this one full of violin and koto. A quick intro montage of photos they had taken throughout their high school careers, and then-

“No need.” He deadpans, interrupting the opening credits she’d bullied Ryota Mitarai into making. “I know what happened already.”

“Geez, but I made this special for you!” She whines, though there’s no real bite to it. She expected this outcome, so it wasn’t like she made her edits particularly interesting either. “Wish you’d play along a little. Come on.”

Instead of replying, he snaps off his gloves and flicks them and the towel into a nearby trash can without looking. He spins her chair to grab his jacket, pinned between her back and the seat, and tugs it so sharply it actually lifts her up a bit.

“Hey, that’s no way to treat a lady,” She sulks, tucking her skirt back down. “I was keeping it warm for you.”

Her only response is an impassioned glance, as he shakes the garment out with a sharp snap.

She watches him prepare to leave, rolling down his sleeves and smoothing out his shirt, pulling the jacket on with a practiced, mechanical grace. “Is it really that much better, being out there?” She grumbles. Outside was a wasteland, shattered remains, rot and destruction. The few people still alive were either on the edge of death, or insane with despair - either way, they’d fallen into a dull, predictable pattern. Starving, stealing, killing, dying, wailing. So much wailing. How strange it was that even these things became uninteresting after so long.

“They all behaved exactly how I expected.” He says, in an approximation for an explanation. He adjusts his cufflinks, thumb swiping over the polished brass. They’d been shaped like Hope’s Peak’s logo, but countless passing touches had nearly buffed out the enamel inlay - they were little more than tiny mirrors now, if she leaned forward and squinted she could almost see herself in them, check for stuff stuck in her teeth-

“Why did you not confront them after they discovered the AI?”

The question interrupts her train of thought, and she blinks, then grins, utterly delighted. “Why? Did I surprise you?”

He levels her with a look, a dark stare from those bloody, bloodshot eyes. “There are several reasons to possibly explain why you behaved this way.” He continues. “The most simple reason, you were distracted-”

“Nope. Glued to the cameras the whole time.”

“The most predictable reason, you wanted them to think they had a chance.”

“Hmm...mayy-be?” She pulls her legs up to sit criss-crossed in her chair, and rocks side to side, hands resting on her ankles as she thinks. “I mean, there are ten of them left. Would be a shame if they gave up already, right?”

“...And, based on your current interests. You thought it would make for a more interesting development. Especially in regards to Togami.”

She smiles, teeth splitting her face. “Congratulations, a hun-dred points to dear Mister Kamakura,”  She sings in an exaggerated falsetto, and claps her hands in mock applause. “I was thinking about it, but then he and Kyoko went and had that absolutely lovely little heart-to-heart in the hallway…how could I possibly interrupt my dearest friends?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes narrow slightly, the corners of his lips pulling into a thin line. A look that screams - or maybe just mutters, in his case - ‘what the hell are you talking about.’ “He smashed her hand in a door. She belittled him for his blindness.”

“Yeah, and? Don’t you know what foreplay is?” He doesn’t scoff, but the just-audible exhale he lets out is pretty close. “Oh, shush. Like you would know anything,” She sniffs. “But anyways, I definitely wasn’t expecting them to reach this stage already. I thought it’d take a few more years at least!” She lets loose a laugh, a sharp, bright sound that gets swallowed up by the dense, packed-foam soundproofing around them. “Letting them get away with Alter Ego was totally worth the show!”

He doesn’t look like he agrees, but then again, those old Hope’s Peak scientists hadn’t included ‘Ultimate Clear Emotion Conveying’ among his repertoire of talents, so maybe he was jumping for joy on the inside right now. “Togami’s blindness was an unexpected development,” He agrees. “But that is all. He hasn’t demonstrated any behavior that couldn’t be predicted.”

“You were pretty intrigued by him before though, weren’t you?” She’d had her suspicions from the start, when Byakuya’s first day after waking up was spent squinting and fidgeting with his glasses, but he couldn’t be called an Ultimate for nothing. If she didn’t know him as well as she did, she might’ve even been halfway fooled. 

And the best developments were the ones that hadn’t been planned beforehand. Watching him walk away from the A/V room without even playing his motive disc was such a fun twist that had her raising her brows, even as Mukuro had gotten all pissy, after all the work that she had put into capturing that old butler alive. Even better than that was his breakdowns, when Junko watched him fall into a sinking spiral in his room, muttering to himself and pacing before finally passing out. The difference between his usual hoity-toity self and his total helplessness made for an absolutely delectable kind of gap moe.

“I have no interest in him. Rather, the source of his blindness is what intrigues me.” Izuru corrects her bluntly. “It is unclear what might have caused it. He never displayed symptoms of it prior to the game’s beginning.”

And if she had to be really honest, she wasn’t sure either. “Who knows?” She shrugs. “Spontaneous genetic condition? Maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow morning and be totally bald?”

“The Togami family is obsessed with genetics. Sudden cataract development, or anything of that nature, would have weeded out long ago.” He rebuts. His eyes, a deep, ugly, unnatural red that could make Celeste jealous, fix on her for a moment, and then travel up to look at the monitors, pupils shrinking like a cat’s as they dart from screen to shining screen. “Could it have something to do with the memory wipe?”

“No way!” She snaps back to him immediately, almost affronted. “My process is totally perfect. Do you know how many people I tested it on?” Sure, she’d had plenty of lab rats get seizures, comas, go crazy or just straight-up die, but none of them went blind. “If you don’t believe me, you wanna try it yourself?”

Now that was an idea. Maybe if she could induce an artificial amnesia in Izuru, and completely make him forget how he became this way - gosh, but that could be interesting. An Ultimate Hope who didn’t know what his purpose was? Or, better yet, a Hajime Hinata who didn’t know what he really was?

She could almost drool over the idea of it. Seeing the man, the boy in front of her, twisted, despairing, and utterly ruined - how thrilling would that be?

“Do it to yourself.” Izuru replies sullenly, shattering her daydream in an instant, and she pouts. Spoilsport.

They fall into a comfortable sort of quiet for a moment, as Junko turns back to the screens. Without her sister around, she had to take the role of surveillance onto herself, and that was a 24/7 ordeal. But at least it was something to do, she supposed.

Byakuya was making his way to his room from the cafeteria, apparently completely oblivious to how Toko was stalking him from a few meters behind. Hina and Sakura were working off their post-trial grief through vigorous physical activity - swimming, because of course it would be - Celeste was being comforted by Hifumi, and Hiro was chasing after Mondo, who apparently had given up on trying to eat anything and was now meandering aimlessly through the halls, the dead look on his face evident even through some of the grainier footage. Makoto was wandering, probably trying to repair his broken heart by distracting himself with some good old-fashioned adventuring, or maybe Kyoko.

Waaaait a minute. She frowns suddenly, leaning in closer to scan each of the monitors in quick succession, starting from the camera feeds of the third floor, and working down. Wait a damn minute. There was a suspicious lack of pale, skulking figures in her peripherals - just where was her darling detective?

She feels a little thrill of a delicious dread run up her spine. She went through all this trouble to give Kyoko a full wipe - to clean out every last memory that might give the detective a clue to her own identity - and yet here she was, managing to crawl under Junko’s skin like a centipede, a stubborn parasite. There were only so many unsupervised places that Miss Headmaster’s Daughter could be hiding, and Junko couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face; she could always count on Kyoko to make things interesting.

“Hey, Zuzu. You wanna make a bet?” She hums to Izuru. No Kyoko, but Makoto’s pointed cowlick was coming into view on one of the stairway cameras leading into the second floor, soon accompanied by the rest of him. 

“On what?”

“Oh, anything. Which one of them will die next. If one of them will snap and start trying to kill the rest of them…” She rewinds through the camera recordings of the last hour, speeding through the frames until they’re all mere blurs of color and light. Her eyes dart, and spy the pale, round shape of Kyoko’s head, as she walks into the dark entryway of the second-floor boy’s bathroom, not even half-an-hour ago. “If they manage to figure out the details of Togami’s blindness.”

Another bet. Another meaningless wager on top of the hundreds, thousands, millions of other ones that she’s made and won, but this one might actually surprise her for once. She hopes it will.

“How pointless.” He sighs. But despite that, he hasn’t turned to leave yet. And actually, the fact that he responded at all meant that he was, even just a little bit, curious. “What would we wager? We have nothing of value, and nothing we value enough.” “Hmm, true…and it’s not like we care about either of our lives either.” She fast-forwards the cameras, and watches as Makoto looks left and right, nervous eyes casting up and down the hallway, before he enters the second floor boy’s bathroom. She needs to get moving now, if she was going to make sure her darling detective didn’t go and ruin the game too early, and she shoves aside some empty snack wrappers, the pieces of an unfinished puzzle, a book so dog-eared and worn it was on the brink of disintegrating, and Monokuma’s controller to grab the authentic luchador mask that was hanging off the edge of the table. “We got all the time we need to figure that out, after all. So in the meantime, how about you stick around and see how it goes?"

< previous - from start - next >

[sualne]

Is there any dad crocodile stuff you've been really itching to talk about or draw?

there’s a bunch of things ive really been wanting to draw! for starters the betrayal comic, nothing epic about it but it’ll be a lot of fun (for me only probably) because i haven’t drawn anything like this in a long long while! also two comics with croc i can’t wait to draw, funnily enough, both takes place in a bathroom. another one is about luffy being overstimulated during a party, there’s many more but i won’t say!

for things to talk about im not sure, that’s a bit vague, so some trivia:

-luffy has a pet bananawani that’s only a few years younger than him, as babies he would drag her around like a plushy (he still do it even as a young adult tbh), her name is Miss Mini Sorbet (crocodile picked it), she’s unusually small for a bananawani (the size of a regular irl croc) and albino (white-yellowish with pink eyes(wanted her to remind of gear 5 luffy, no reasons in particular tho)). she’s actually meant to debut in the next comic!

-croc has stretch marks!!

-both mihawk and luffy are canonically autistic in this au, ive drawn them as the autism creatures but writing it just in case.

-robin and bonclay becomes friends! sharing drinks and clothes and spends time together even when luffy isn’t there.

-luffy has helped croc cut his hair a few time and croc usually takes cares of luffy’s.

-luffy, croc and mihawk once played poker together, surprisingly enough it’s croc who had the most trouble, between mihawk’s impassible expression and luffy going ‘ooh’ ‘woah’ at his own cards despite having bad hands and having so many things that could’ve been tells but weren’t, it was a nightmare for croc.

-mishanks divorce canon btw.

[katebshope]

Notting Hill (HAILEE STEINFELD X FEM!READER)

hello, this is my 1st fanfiction about Hailee. I'll try my best to give to you a great reading. Im not used to write character x reader, but i'll give a try since i read these one a lot.

I decided to write this one after a lot of thinking and because i saw the post of @kates-abs-slay talking about the fics about hailee x reader being scarce. so this first chapter is special to them <3

Sinopse: Y/N owns a bookstore in Notting Hill, London, and when the famous actress Hailee Steinfeld walks into her shop to buy a book, her world is turned upside down.

CHAPTER ONE – Words: 1.246

based on the filme Notting Hill (1999)

warnings: none in this chapter; (I have ADHD and Dyslexia, and english is not my first language, so maybe you'll see some mistakes.)

Chapter One

Y/N opens the door from her house and sees the loud street with people and cars all around. "New morning", she thinks as starts to walk through the street, in just a few steps she would be at her store, the thing she loved the most.

"Of course, I've seen her films and always thought she was, well, fabulous -- but, you know, million miles from the world I live in. Which is here -- Notting Hill -- not a bad place to be..." Y/N heard two mature men talking, while walking throught the street.

A bell ring right up head.

"I'll call you later mom", Y/N see her best friend hanging up on their phone.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, you know how Ms. Martin is, always asking how the store is going....""

Y/N agrees with just a nod, putting her bag on the top of the balcony, not realy paying atenttion to her friend words.

"... should I get you cup of coffee? a capuccino?"

"Coffee would be nice, thanks"

Y/N is looking some papers when she heards the bell ring one more time.

"Wow, that was fast... - Y/N turn her attention to the door and get surprised - oh, welcome! Can I help you?"

"No, thanks. I'll just look around." said the brunnett who just entered the store.

Y/N couldn't help but follow every step the girl was taken in her store, somehow she seems familiar. The girl was a bit tall, had a long brown hair, and her eyes... well she couldn't see them because the mysterious girls was wearing sunglasses.

The bell on the door ring for the third time, and her friend entered with her cup of coffee, followed up by a costumer. Her friend didn't notice the girl on the store until they gave Y/N order.

Y/N's friend reaction was weird and funny, she mummured something that she couldn't understand and went right to the employeer's room.

Y/N saw the brunette wanders over to a shelf and pick up out a red book.

"That book's really not good -- just in case, you know, browsing turned to buying. You'd be wasting your money." Y/N said

"Really?"

"Yes. This one though is... very good. – Y/N picks up a book on the counter. – I think the man who wrote it has actually been to Turkey, which helps. There's also a very amusing incident with a kebab."

Y/N suddenly spies something odd on the small TV monitor behind the brunette.

"Excuse me a moment, please" –

Y/N said before walks to a bookcase in the back of the shop. She didn't notice, but the eyes of the bruntte followed her steps.

"Excuse me."

"Yes."

Answered a tall man with a low voice.

"I have bad news."

"What?"

"It's the 21 century we've got a security camera in everyplace at this store."

"So?"

"So, I saw you put that book in your pants."

"What book?"

"The one down in your pants"

Y/N was having fun with that, it's one of the joys in working, and own, a bookstore, get a thief when they don't wait for it.

"I haven't got a book in my pants."

"Right -- well, then we have an impasse in here. I tell you what -- I'll call the police -- and, what can I say? -- If I'm wrong about the whole book-in-your-pants scenario, I really apologize."

"Okay -- what if I did have a book in my pants?"

"Well, ideally, when I went back to the balcony, you'd remove the Cadogan guide to Bali from your pants, and either wipe it and put it back, or buy it.""

Y/N smiled, having fun with the poor man that didn't know how to hide himself, and a book. She walked directly to the balcony, the brunette was right in the corner with a blue book, waiting for her.

"Sorry abou that..."

"No, that's fine. I was going to steal one myself but now I've changed my mind."

Y/N smiled at the slightest joke made by her customer. She liked her sense of humor. And suddenly the thief was right there beside them.

"Excuse me Ms. Steinfeld can I have your autograph?"

That's it! That's why the brunette seemed so familiar, she was Hailee Steinfeld, and Y/N had watch a film starring her a few weeks back. The filme was still in theater.

"Sure, what's your name?"

She seemed to having fun with this.

"Rufus."

She signs his scruffy piece of paper and he was trying to read.

"What does it say?"

"Well, that's the signature -- and above, it says 'Dear Rufus -- you belong in jail."

"Nice one. Would you like my phone number?"

"Tempting but... no, thank you."

Y/N laughed but hide it right after. That girl was something else. She saw the thief, known as Rufus, leaving the store.

"I think I will try this one."

The brunette said handing Y/N a blue book and a note of $50. Now her sunglasses was on the top of her head and Y/N could see those beautiful and breath taken brown eyes. For a moment, she felt she couldn't speak on move.

The bell ring one more time, announce that the brown eyes girl left the store.

"Where's my coffee?" Y/N whispered

"Beside the computer, but I think it's already cold" –

Y/N friends answered entering the common area again.

"I don't think you'll believe who was just in here." –

Y/N said taking her coffee and drinking a sip. Ugh, it was cold.

"Hailee Steinfeld... I said it to you when i brought your coffee Y/N!""

"Oooh, that's what you're saying!"

Y/N smiled, feeling stupid for a few seconds.

"What is she doing here?" – she continued

"Well, twitter says she's filming a new film here in England"

"Another? But there's one with her in the theater right now..."

"She's an actor Y/N, I believe that's what she do" –

Her friend laughed.

"Yeah, yeah... she seems to work a lot" –

Y/N takes another sip of coffee

"Ugh, this is awful. Im going to buy another one" –

She takes her jacket and went to the door. The bell ring one more time.

Y/N was walking fast in the sidewalk, her mind remebering those amazing brown eyes she looked right into, when out of the blue she bumped into someone.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" – they said together, automatically

When Y/N paid attention she was right in front of Hailee Steinfeld, her shirt was all wet and you could see a litte bit of her bra due to the juice that was spilled when they bumped into each other.

"Here, let me help" –

Y/N said taking off her jacket and giving to Hailee.

"Thanks"

"Listening – Ms. Steinfeld, huh, I live just over the street, I can help you, maybe you can wear one of mine t-shirt or – even taking a shower"

"Don't call me that" – She said simply

"Huh?"

"Ms Steinfeld – don't call me that. Ms Steinfeld is my mom, I'm Hailee – and how close is your house? I cannot go like that to an interview, my agent will kill me"

"Yeah.. I'm sorry Hailee – you see that blue building across the street?"

"Yes"

"It's right there, I live there"

Hailee looked to Y/N, grabbed her things and started walk directly to the bulding. Y/N followed her thinking that this day was getting too weird.