#they’re best friends actually they told me themselves

[emeraldart]

*climbs onto a table with my megaphone*

Hunter and Amity don’t hate each other!!!

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

[daycourtofficial]

The Shadows Want You to be Happy

Summary: Azriel’s shadows overhear a conversation where you doubt Azriel’s true intentions, and they urge him to rectify the situation.

Author’s note: this is just pure fluff baby! Pure unadulterated fluff. Go to the dentist! Also I didn’t proofread this, so enjoy at your own caution!

His shadows didn’t mean to spy on you, they promise. They just liked keeping an eye on you at all times.

Azriel had no idea why his shadows seemed to adore you so much - well, he could understand it, because he adored you just as much as his shadows did. But he can’t figure out why - they don’t like being around Elain, but most of the others the shadows just watch.

Not you, though. Whenever you two are in the same room his shadows roam over you, greeting an old friend. If he’s been away for a days on a mission, they spend several minutes swirling around you, seemingly doting on you, like they’re asking “are you okay? Did you eat while we were gone? Did you sleep?”

A few shadows have taken it upon themselves to stay stationed with you at all times. He thinks they have a schedule, out of jealousy and need to share their time with you, but they don’t really tell him too much about what they see. The most they’ll tell him is if you haven’t eaten in a while or that time they told him about you having a cold and not wanting anyone to find out. He spent three days in your apartment with you, feeding you soup and taking care of you.

His shadows absolutely do not tell him the things you say or how you’re feeling, or so he thought. Both of the shadows that were asking as your bodyguards came to him, like little kids with a story to tell.

-

You were laying on the couch in the library with Feyre, engrossed in your independent books. The two of you do this weekly, enjoying each other’s presence without much social obligation. Sometimes the two of you will talk, but it’s often followed by long, comfortable silences. Just when you thought the silence was going to stay for a while, Feyre spoke up.

“so, sweetie, how are things with you and Azriel?” She asks, closing her book to turn to you.

Your cheeks heat immediately. “Um,” you say, closing your book to turn to her, knowing that she won’t relent until she gets what she wants out of this conversation.

You had kept your feelings for him mostly to yourself, except one drunken night a few weeks ago you had told Feyre about how pretty he was. You thought she might have forgotten about it, but this conversation is telling you she wants more. Thank the mother it wasn’t Rhys or Cas you had told that to - they would have mocked your word choice of “devastatingly pretty” for years.

“Well, we have plans to go out tonight,” you reply, very nervous about opening up to Feyre. She looked at you, her face asking for you to continue. “We’re trying all of the bakeries in Velaris to see who has the best pastries and hot chocolate, so once a week we try a new one and gorge ourselves on baked goods and chocolate.”

Feyre smiled at how absolutely adorable that was. “Are these… dates?” she asks, smiling at how absolutely oblivious the two of you were.

“We call them dates,” you reply.

“Do you two do anything physical? You don’t have to be gratuitous with details, I’m not Mor.” Feyre says, shuddering thinking of Mor grilling you for details on if the two of you have had sex yet.

“Um well the bakeries are usually cozy so we usually are tucked away in a corner, pressed up together. In one of them we had to wait for a table, so he just wrapped his wings around me while we waited.” You told her, grinning at the memory of his body heat.

“Do you two ever kiss?”

You sink a little further into the couch, your cheeks blazing with heat now, your hands covering your face as you say, “yes”.

“Has there been more than kissing?”

Feyre watches the head hiding behind youe hands nod ever so slightly and squeals. She actually squeals.

The people of Velaris love to gossip with her, and when she heard rumors of two of her friends being spotted around town looking very coupley, she decided to investigate. It also doesn’t help that the Inner Circle has a betting pool on when you ans Azriel will get together. Her bet was this week, so she’s doing what she can to win. And because she wants the two of you to be happy. And because Cassian bet that you two would be together next week, and she can’t lose to him, his gloating is atrocious.

“So, you two are together?” She asks, practically bouncing in her seat.

“I’m not sure,” you say, “honestly I’m a little worried that this means more to me than it does to him.” You look down at your hands, “I don’t really do casual dating, and I’m a little worried that this is just a fling to him. It’s really incredible and hot and sweet and all but.” You look around to see if anyone is listening before you whisper, “honestly, it would break my heart if this was just casual for him.”

Feyre was shocked at how sad you looked at the idea of being something casual to Az. She knew the two of you were head over heels for each other, they all knew that, but you looked devastated.

“Sweetie,” she says, trying her best to console you, “there is no way that that male views you or anything to do with you as ‘casual’.“

“Are you sure?” You ask, hesitation lacing your every word.

“Absolutely. He lights up whenever you’re around and I’ve never seen him miss a function you’re at.”

You thank your friend for the reassurances and settle back into your respective books. You knew that Azriel’s shadows often followed you around, even without him being anywhere nearby. He once told you that they find you adorable. However, you didn’t realize that the two who were stationed with you left very quickly after your discussion with Feyre.

-

The shadows relayed the whole story to him, in part because they, like the inner circle, want the two of you together. But also because they understand that you were upset and Azriel could fix it.

Azriel was more shocked at the insistence from them to make you less upset - usually they are just uninvolved observers, simply passing along information to him, allowing him to draw his own conclusions. The way those shadows spoke to him you’d think that they were in charge of him.

He met you outside of your apartment later that night, dressed in an all black casual outfit. “Ready?” He asks, extending his arm out for you to take. You lock the door behind him, straightening your coat before taking his arm.

The two of you start these dates off by walking through Velaris. Winter has just begun and there’s a light falling of snow covering the two of you.

“What’d you get up to today? I haven’t seen you since breakfast,” he asks you, not-so-subtly reminding you that you were, in fact, his breakfast, before he left your apartment this morning.

“I spent most of the day in the library with Feyre, reading a few books, doing some research. I had to get out of there, the words were all starting to blend together,” you reply, nuzzling into his arm to retain some of his heat, despite his jacket covering his arms.

“Mm, well then I guess you could consider me you’re handsome knight, off to whisk you away for an evening of delicacies in your time of need,” he retorts.

You chuckle and begin to speak, not stopping yourself before blurting, “why are you only like this with me? Don’t get me wrong, I love this side of you, but you only show it to me. Why’s that?”

Azriel stops your walk to stand in front of you, “ignoring your recent declaration of love,” you huff, “I just.. feel different around you.”

The look he’s giving you makes your knees go weak. He’s looking into your eyes with deep, raw honesty, like he wants you to see inside his soul.

“I love my family, despite their best efforts to annoy me into murdering them,” he says. You giggle. “But you’re.. different. The way I feel about you is different. I thought I loved Mor, but I didn’t. I loved the idea of saving her, of being her knight.” He sighs, unbelieving that he’s spilling all of this to you out in public. Luckily the other pedestrians just ignore the two of you, out of kindness or fear of him, he’s not sure. He pulls you into a quiet little alley, in the hopes to retain some privacy.

“It was stupid, but I thought I could save the girl and we’d live happily ever after. Then I met you. When I was a kid, I always wanted someone to come rescue me, and I thought that that was how you fall in love. But it’s not. I didn’t need to save you to love you. After this big revelation about myself, I took some time to really think about what I want. It’s why a few weeks back everyone thought I went to check on the war camps. Well, I did check on them, but I spent most of the time thinking. And I want you, no rescuing required. Though if you’d have me, I’d rescue you from anything. A bad day, my annoying family, the flu, anything. I’m not sure how clear my intentions have been, I figured showing you off around Velaris was enough, but I guess not.”

He paused, a mixture of nerves and intense determination radiating off of him.

“I haven’t thought about another person since I met you. I haven’t even considered looking at anyone else. Rhys has started calling me a puppy, because I follow you around everywhere, and I don’t care. I’ve never been so public with anyone, not giving a damn who sees or what they think, because I want them to know that you’re with me. I want everything you’ll give me.”

You’re stunned. It’s so quiet, you can hear the snow falling. It’s as if the world has gone silent to hear what you’ll say.

“Anything I’ll give you?” You say, a smirk crossing your face, wanting to draw out his confession a bit more.

“Anything.”

“Even if I snore?” You ask.

He laughs, “you don’t snore. You’re actually quite adorable when you’re asleep, hate to break it to you.”

“Hmm,” you say, stroking your finger on your chin, looking quizzical. “Guess you’ll just have to get used to my adorable sleeping, because if you’re accepting it, I’m giving you everything.”

He leans down, capturing your laugh with his lips, his shadows dancing around the two of you in excitement.

He pulls away after several minutes, laughing at the groan coming from your lips, “did you know that the idiots have a bet about us?”

He begins again after seeing your confused face, “If we’re together this week, Feyre wins the betting pool. Next week is Cassian.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, “that’s why she wanted us to be together so badly! Hm, maybe we should let Feyre win, because Cassian would be-

“Unbearable.” You both say in unison.

“When should we tell them? And how?” You ask.

“Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow we can just have sex on the dining room table, that’ll send the message loud and clear.” He says, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

You swat his arm, “no, we’re better than Cassian and Nesta. Maybe we should have a banner made. It’ll say “we had sex!” And point down to us.”

He chuckles, grabbing your arm again and steering you towards the bakery, as the two of you contemplate how to tell your family the news that will make them all so incredibly happy.

[steveseddie]

go for it

steddie | rating: t | cw: none | wc: 4,6k | tags: eddie and steve have a crush, they finally do something about it, the hellfire club is there whoops, first kiss, getting together

for my stficbingo: “This is a dictatorship and I’m in charge!”

click here to read on ao3

***

“You drag yourselves out of the tunnels and find what seems to be a friendly tavern in the woods,” Eddie narrates in a low voice, his eyes sweeping over everyone sitting at the Harrington dining table. They’re all at the edge of their seats, collectively holding their breath, looking suitably daunted yet excited as they brace themselves for some other twist in the story. “The innkeeper welcomes you with warm food and offers you a place to stay. She assures you that you’re safe.” 

He pauses for dramatic effect. Watches as Henderson bites his knuckles, Wheeler squeezes his eyes shut, Jeff covers his face with his hands-

“Tonight you get to rest,” he finishes with a flourish of his hand and the party sighs in relief. 

“Thank God!” Gareth says, slumping back on his chair and wiping his brow where beads of sweat started gathering during the final moments of the campaign. “I thought we wouldn’t make it.” 

“Holy shit, me too,” Sinclair agrees, shaking his head in disbelief. He’d been one bad die roll away from dying by the time they finally defeated the goblins that attacked them out of nowhere. “That was brutal!” 

“It was fucking awesome!” Henderson says with a squeaky laugh and everyone around the table heartily agrees.  

Eddie grins widely, resting his chin on one hand and doing a flourish with the other one in lieu of a bow. “Glad it pleased you, Master Nog.” 

The kid flashes him a toothy smile and then he and the rest of the party start discussing tonight’s campaign- the best moments, the ones where they thought they would all die, their predictions for what will happen next week. 

They’re so caught up in their conversation that they don’t notice when Eddie slips away from the table.

The Harrington house is easy to get lost in, bigger than any house Eddie has ever been to. Even after weeks of being friends with Steve and coming over for movie nights and pool parties, Eddie isn’t sure he’s seen all of it. He knows there’s a third garage somewhere and he’s only been to one of the three guest bedrooms and that was back on the first night he slept over. 

(Since then, he and Steve realized that they sleep better when they have company and Eddie never saw the inside of that or any of the other guest rooms again, sharing Steve’s bed with him whenever he spends the night instead.)

Eddie has been to Harrington kitchen plenty of times though, so he makes his way there easily. 

As he gets further away from his friends and their noise, Eddie’s ears pick up on the music coming from the Harrington kitchen, which further guides him in the right direction. He belatedly recognizes the song as part of the mixtape he made for Steve a couple of days ago in an attempt to improve his music taste. When he gave it to him, Steve eyed it warily (“It’s real music, Stevie, not a rabid animal, it won’t bite you!”) before shoving it into his car’s glove compartment. He didn’t bring it up since then and Eddie assumed he forgot about it. Knowing that Steve didn’t forget and he’s actually listening to it now fills Eddie’s stomach with butterflies. 

Those butterflies flutter pathetically when he finally reaches the kitchen and finds Steve doing the dishes. 

He’s standing in front of the sink, his hips moving with the music (not heavy metal but some soft rock that Eddie thought might be more Steve’s style while still being cool) and there’s a flowery apron tied around his waist which matches the rubber gloves he’s wearing. Both were a gag gift from the kids, Steve told Eddie the first time he saw him wearing them, one that actually turned out to be quite useful and now he wears them often. 

For a moment, Eddie lingers at the kitchen doorway, giving himself a few seconds to stare at Steve, filing away how he looks for later when he’s daydreaming embarrassingly domestic fantasies of a life with Steve. Then he raps his knuckles twice on the door frame to get his attention. 

(Eddie knows better than to sneak up on him now. The one time he did Steve had him pinned against a wall before Eddie could even realize what was happening. He thought it was hot more than anything, but Steve had been mortified. He spent the rest of the night apologizing and acting like a kicked puppy around him. He didn’t relax until Eddie reminded him that the first time they met, Eddie did the same thing, only he also held a broken bottle to Steve’s throat. So now they were more than even.)

Steve’s head whips around at the sound and his face lights up when he sees Eddie leaning against the door frame. 

“Hey!” Steve says, grinning like he’s delighted to see Eddie. Like he missed him, like he didn’t see him less than forty minutes ago when they all took a break to have dinner. “You finished early tonight.” 

Glancing at the clock on top of the fridge, Eddie realizes that Steve is right. “I figured they had enough for one night,” Eddie says, stepping into the kitchen and joining Steve by the sink. “Usually the brats would throw a fit, but I think they were actually glad this time.”  

“That bad?” Steve asks with a snort.

“Wheeler rolled four nat ones in a row, Steve, four!” Eddie says, dancing in and out of Steve’s space until Steve hip-checks him out of the way with a chuckle. 

“Four, huh?” 

“Mhm, the odds weren’t in their favor tonight.” 

“Well, it was nice of you to let them off the hook for once, Mr. Dungeon Master,” Steve says, crinkly eyes meeting Eddie’s momentarily before looking down at the sink and picking up another plate. 

“I’m always nice, Stevie,” Eddie says, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

Steve gives him a bitchy face. “Dude, I’m pretty sure I heard you threaten to chop off Dougie’s hand.” 

“That was the goblin, not me!” Eddie protests, wagging his finger in front of Steve’s face. “Who Jeff killed shortly after, so who’s the one that isn’t nice here?” 

“Right,” Steve deadpans. He takes off the rubber gloves after rinsing the last plate and picks up a dish towel to start drying. “You can always get your revenge next week I guess.” 

“Oh I will, Stevie. I will,” he says, grinning manically. Oh the things he has planned. Eddie hops on top of the counter, right next to where Steve stands as he dries plates and glasses and everything else he used to make the most delicious lasagna for the party. His feet dangle from the counter and he lightly nudges Steve with one. “Hey, thanks for letting us play here. And for dinner.”

“You know you don’t have to thank me every time, right Eds?” Steve says with an exaggerated sigh, but his annoyance is downplayed by his playful smile. The lopsided one that makes Eddie want to kiss him stupid. 

After Spring Break, Principal Higgins was quick to shut down Hellfire once and for all, leaving the party with no place to hold their campaigns. Eddie wasn’t surprised but like everyone else, he was pretty fucking bummed about it. No one in their party had enough space at their house to host their campaigns, and the only two that did, Wheeler and Sinclair, failed to convince their parents to let them use their basement for their alleged satanic cult gatherings. 

But just when they thought their club was done for, Steve swooped in like the knight in shining armor that he is and offered up his house, which is why for the last couple of weeks they’ve been gathering at the Harrington residence where Steve not only hosts their campaigns and puts up with the noise and the mess they leave behind, but he also cooks or buys them dinner every week and makes sure to stock up his fridge with each of their favorite drinks, even indulging in Gareth’s weird obsession with Bubble Up soda because he is unreal and the nicest fucking guy Eddie knows. 

So Eddie can’t not thank him every time. Contrary to what people might believe, he has manners. He also likes the pretty pink flush that covers Steve’s cheeks whenever he does it.

“Hm, I think I do,” he says, nudging Steve’s leg again. “Hellfire would be over if it wasn’t for you, sweetheart.” 

“And what a tragedy that would be,” Steve jokes but aha! There it is- that pretty pink blush. 

“Hey! I know for a fact that you don’t hate it as much as you pretend to,” Eddie says, shaking his finger in a reproachful manner. “You sat through the whole session last time and didn’t even yawn once!” 

Last week, Dustin begged and pleaded so that Steve would sit and watch their campaign instead of retreating to the kitchen or his bedroom. Steve held his ground admirably until Eddie joined in on Dustin’s pleas, batting his eyelashes and pouting exaggeratedly until he caved, sighing in defeat and sitting down next to Eddie. He didn’t expect Steve to make it through the whole thing, but he did and while he did look a little confused at times and complained that there was way too much math involved, he also seemed to actually enjoy himself. 

Steve shifts from one foot to the other and bites his lip. “Yeah, I guess, but that’s because I was watching you the whole time,” he shyly says.

Eddie blinks. “Me?” He remembers Steve’s eyes on him while he led the campaign, but he didn’t think much of it then. But now Steve’s shy admission that he enjoyed himself because he was watching Eddie makes his heart stutter in his chest. 

Flushing deeper, Steve keeps his eyes on the glass that he’s drying, not meeting Eddie’s gaze as he says, “Yeah, you, uh. You’re very good at doing those voices and you know, drawing people into your stories. It’s, um, fascinating.” 

Fascinating. No one’s ever used that word to describe Eddie before. He can’t help the way his breath catches when Steve Harrington of all people calls him that. 

“Oh. Well, thanks,” he stammers out, feeling his own cheeks match Steve’s flush. “And here I thought you were going to say I’m just pretty to look at,” he adds with a slightly shaky laugh.

And that’s what he expects Steve to do- laugh it off. Instead, he finally meets Eddie’s eyes and says, “Well, that too.” 

Eddie’s jaw drops. Holy shit. 

Steve does laugh then but not because it was a joke. He laughs at Eddie’s reaction which consists of him gaping like a fish because Steve Harrington just called him fascinating and pretty. 

And it’s not that Steve hasn’t given him compliments before or hasn’t flirted with him before. He plays along most of the time- sometimes with a playful smirk and sometimes with that baffled puppy look that Eddie saw for the first time after calling him “big boy”.

The thing is he’s never flirted like this- shyly, without a hint of a joke. And it’s- 

Well, it’s a lot. 

But if Eddie learned anything after Spring Break is to roll with whatever the universe throws at him, which in this case isn’t an army of hell bats or an apocalypse, but Steve Harrington finally, maybe, possibly making a move. Something that Eddie has been waiting for after weeks of the two of them dancing around each other. 

He couldn’t see it at first, or rather he refused to, afraid to get his hopes up only for his heart to break when he turned out to be wrong. But there are things that not even his cynical eyes can ignore. The way Steve gravitates towards Eddie in any group setting or the way Eddie catches him staring when he thinks he isn’t looking like last week when they went swimming at the quarry and Eddie took off his shirt or like two weeks ago when Eddie tied his hair up to keep it off his face while he played his guitar. Or the way Steve’s eyes seem to dart to Eddie’s lips constantly when he talks and the way he can’t go more than a day without seeing him before he’s knocking on Eddie’s door to spend time with him.

It would be slightly easier to ignore all of this if it wasn’t for the fact that Eddie acts the same way when it comes to Steve. And Eddie is halfway in love with the guy, so. It makes him wonder. 

But despite all of this, Eddie still hasn’t made a move. Steve either. Until now maybe. 

Eddie clears his throat, finally finding his words. “Well, as entertaining as it must’ve been to watch me.” He grins. “You’ll have more fun if you actually play with us. Maybe next time I can finally convince you to join.”

Hazel eyes narrow at him. “If I play, will you threaten to cut off my hand too?”  

“Nah, I promise to go easy on you since it’s your first time.” He winks and Steve’s eyes widen, the blush from before making a wonderful return. 

“I- I haven’t said yes-”

“Yet.” 

Steve huffs. “What makes you so sure that you can convince me?” He asks with an arched eyebrow. “The kids have tried and failed and you know how relentless they are.”

“Yeah, but I can be very persuasive.” He gestures at himself with a hand flourish. “You know, as a cult leader and all.”

Steve hums. “Of course.” He leans his hip against the counter, only an inch away from Eddie’s thigh.

“There’s gotta be something I can do to convince you,” Eddie says, moving his thigh until it touches Steve’s hip. “Something I can give you in exchange. To make it worth your while.”

Steve’s eyes immediately dart down to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s stomach swoops. There it is.

“You’re right,” Steve says, and in one quick movement, he pushes himself away from the counter and moves to stand between Eddie’s legs. Holy fuck. “There’s one thing.”

Anticipation bubbles up in Eddie’s stomach. “Yeah? What- what is it?” He asks with a suddenly dry throat. 

Steve ducks his head, glancing at Eddie through his eyelashes. “A kiss from the Dungeon Master?” He asks in a shy whisper. 

Eddie stares at him for a second, lips parted in surprise because goddamn shitting fuck. Then-

“Not the goblin?” He asks in his stupid goblin voice. Like a fucking loser.

As soon as he blurts it out he slaps a hand against his face. “Fucking Christ, I can’t believe I just did that. That was so lame. I’m just fucking nervous, sorry.” 

Steve wraps his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, lowering his hand. His eyes are sparkling with fondness. “Don’t be, it’s cute,” he says with a soft chuckle. 

A nearly hysterical giggle bubbles up in Eddie’s throat but it abruptly cuts off when Steve places his hands on Eddie’s thigh and leans in. 

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?” 

“Are you gonna give me that kiss or what?” Steve asks oh so sweetly.

And Eddie doesn’t waste a moment after that, he finally goes for it. He cups Steve’s cheeks and tugs his face closer, pressing their mouths together, feeling his chest explode with warmth as he thinks finally and pinch me and holy fucking shit. 

The kiss is sweet and slow. It starts a little tentative, just lips slotting together, Steve’s bottom lip fitting perfectly between Eddie’s. But then something shifts- Steve’s hands settle on Eddie’s waist, his thumbs digging into his hip bones while Eddie’s fingers find their way to Steve’s hair, scratching at his scalp, tangling with the soft strands, tugging on them. The last one makes Steve’s mouth fall open in a gasp, just enough for Eddie to press in, catching Steve’s lower lip between his teeth and biting down hard enough to earn himself a small whine. Then he lets it go, easing his tongue across Steve’s lip and licking into his mouth. 

He loses track of anything else that happens when Steve’s own tongue licks into his mouth in return. 

After a while the kiss softens again, turning into something slow and tender until it comes to a natural stop, once they can’t ignore the need to breathe anymore. 

Steve pulls back but Eddie doesn’t let him go far, keeping a firm hold on the lapels of his dorky polo shirt. “Definitely worth my while but-” 

Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “But?” 

“But,” Steve says, his red, wet, well-kissed lips stretching into a wicked grin. “I think I’m gonna need more convincing.”

Eddie grins back. “Oh, I think that can be arranged.”

He tugs Steve closer again and he comes willingly, sighing happily when their lips slot together once more. God, Eddie is so fucked. They’ve kissed once and he’s already addicted to kissing Steve. He’s convinced that he could stay like this forever, lazily making out with him on his kitchen counter, tongues exploring, hands wandering.

And he probably would’ve- if a shrill voice didn’t make them jump apart. 

“What the hell is going on here!” Dustin yells.

Steve whirls around so fast he almost faceplants on his kitchen floor and Eddie jumps back and hits his head against one of the upper cupboards.

He lets out a string of creative curses as he rubs the back of his head, seeing black spots when he opens his eyes. Despite those, he can still see the whole party standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at them with expressions ranging from utter shock (Sinclair and Henderson) to disgust (Wheeler) to smugness (Jeff, Gareth, Dougie, and weirdly enough, Erica). 

“Uh,” Steve says dumbly as he tries to find his words, but there’s no lying their way out of this one and they both know it. They were just caught with their tongues down each other’s throats and Eddie’s hands on Steve’s ass. 

“Well?” Dustin prompts in a bitchy tone.

“I was, uh, convincing Steve to join D&D next week,” Eddie says, which is, technically, the truth. 

Gareth snorts, raising an eyebrow. “With your tongue?” 

Eddie gives a gleeful laugh. “As a matter of fact, yes.” 

“Eddie,” Steve hisses, flushing to the tips of his ears. 

“That’s gross!” Wheeler cries, his face scrunching up which is rich coming from him, Eddie thinks, considering he saw him sucking face with El more times than he would’ve liked in the short time she was in Hawkins after everything. So he knows Wheeler has nothing against kissing and it makes him wonder if he might have something against Eddie kissing a boy, or boys kissing boys in general and Eddie loves the kid, he loves all of them but he will sit him down for some tough love if he happens to not be okay with-

There’s a slapping sound as Erica smacks him upside the head.

“Ouch!”

“Not cool, butthead,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Wheeler. “Boys can kiss boys too.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth tugs up in a smile. Just like that, she’s currently his favorite. 

“What?” Wheeler asks, rubbing the back of his head. “I know that. I don’t care that Eddie wants to kiss guys, I care that he wants to kiss Steve!”

“Hey!” Steve protests with an affronted frown.  

“Eddie is cool and Steve is so lame! And he’s my sister’s ex!” He says with extra snark. 

Eddie can’t help it, he bursts out laughing. Steve’s head snaps in his direction, his offended expression now directed at him. “Sorry, sorry,” he says between giggles. He clears his throat and gives Wheeler a stern face. It’s a much different scolding than the one he thought he would be giving him just a few moments ago and he’s grateful for that. “Steve isn’t lame. Yes, his music taste is shit and he owns more polo shirts than an 80-year-old-” 

“Dude, are you defending me or helping Mike insult me?” Steve mumbles with a pout. 

“But!” Eddie says, ignoring him. “He’s also badass and he’s saved your sorry asses multiple times and he’s nice enough to let you pipsqueaks eat his food and trash his house every week and he’s hot as fuck, so. Show some respect, Wheeler.”

Mike’s face scrunches up. “What does Steve being hot have to do with anything? Ew!”

But before Eddie can reply to that, Dustin takes a step forward, looking between the two. “So this is a thing now? Are you guys a thing?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at them.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look, both of them trying to communicate the same thing- do you want to be a thing? Steve gives him a sheepish smile and a nod, and in response, Eddie wraps his arms and legs around him, essentially hanging off of Steve’s back like a koala and trapping him against the counter. “Yes, Henderson. We are, as you so eloquently put it, a thing.”

Eddie expects more outrage, but Dustin nods solemnly. “Okay, cool. Just- no flirting at the D&D table. And no kissing!” There are nods and noises of agreement from the rest of the party. 

Eddie lets out an indignant squeak. “Excuse me, this is a dictatorship and I’m in charge! And the Dungeon Master decides that there will be kissing, butthead,” he announces, and then to prove a point, he smacks a sloppy kiss against Steve’s cheek. 

There’s a lot of groaning and whining and fake-gagging. 

“Dude, it’s like watching my parents kiss,” Sinclair says and Henderson nods, rubbing at his eyes like it physically hurt him to see Eddie kiss Steve. 

Eddie rolls his eyes- and they call him dramatic.

“Fine, fine, no kissing,” he says and sees Steve pout out of the corner of his eye. “But I won’t be deprived of the joy of flirting with one Sir Stephen.” 

Steve leans back against Eddie’s chest, twisting his neck to arch an eyebrow at him. “Sir Stephen?”  

“I’ve been working on your character sheet for weeks,” Eddie says with a grin. And it’s true, he had the feeling that he would be able to convince Steve to play and he wanted to be ready. If he’d known a kiss was all it took to do it, he would’ve done it much sooner. 

“That’s presumptuous of you,” Steve mumbles, but there’s a smile teasing at his lips. Eddie shrugs, nuzzling his face against Steve’s shoulder. 

“Fine!” Dustin groans, reminding Eddie that he and Steve aren’t alone. “As long as you stay in character.” 

Eddie grins wickedly, already looking forward to flirting with Steve through all his characters, even the goblin. 

“Anyway,” Jeff says, clapping his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “We were on our way out. We would offer to take the kiddos home, but Dougie’s piece of shit car won’t fit them all.” Dougie protests with a “Hey!” that they all ignore. 

Usually, Eddie doesn’t mind driving the kids around, but right now, a part of him does wish that he could stay a little longer with Steve. The other part can’t wait to get home so he can scream into a pillow. 

“Nah, I got it. Gentleman, lady, grab your things, we’ll head out in a second,” he says, making shooing motions with his hands. 

Sinclair rolls his eyes. “He just wants more time to make out with Steve,” he mutters as they all start to pile out of the kitchen. 

“Correct, Sinclair!”

He and Wheeler make gagging noises, earning a shove from Erica as she follows them. Yeah, she’s definitely his favorite. 

Henderson lingers on the doorway. 

“Any other rules you wish to impose on us, Master Nog?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Dustin shakes his head, curls bouncing. “No, I’m just- I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

Eddie blinks. “Oh,” he exhales softly, touched by the kid’s words. 

“Thanks, Henderson,” Steve says, and he sounds touched too. 

“Yeah, thanks, kid.” 

“And I love you both, but if you get divorced, I will pick sides.” And with one final narrow-eyed look, he turns on his heels and leaves.

“Which side?” Eddie asks, but the little shit pretends he doesn’t hear him. “Henderson! Which side?” His shoulders slump. “Brat.”

“Too bad we’re never gonna find out,” Steve says, turning around to face Eddie without dislodging his arms or legs that are still wrapped around him.

Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest. “Never? That’s presumptuous of you,” he says, echoing his words from before. 

Steve shrugs. “I just know I don’t plan to break up with you- or divorce you like the kid said.” 

Oh yeah, Eddie definitely needs a pillow to scream into right about now. “Um, yeah, me neither, so I guess we’re stuck together.”

Steve nods with a dopey smile. “And we’ll never know who Dustin would’ve picked.” 

There’s a short silence. 

Then, “He would’ve picked me,” they both say at the same time. 

Steve squawks. “Me!”

“No, me!” 

“I’ve known him longer!”

“He thinks I’m cooler!” 

And so on until Eddie gets tired of arguing and shuts Steve up with a kiss. Before they can deepen it though, they’re once again interrupted by the kids. 

“Eddie!” Dustin yells. 

“Stop sucking face and let’s go!” Wheeler adds and Eddie can’t see him, but he knows his nose is scrunched up in disgust. 

“We’re gonna be late!” Sinclair adds, urgently, and Erica mhm’s in agreement. 

Eddie throws his head back with a groan. “Jesus H. Christ! They’re so annoying.” 

“They are,” Steve chuckles, brushing their noses together. “Hey, you wanna come over tomorrow? We can work on that character thing together. Just you and me.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen, lips parted in awe. Steve and D&D? There must be hearts in his eyes right now or bursting out of him like he’s a cartoon. “You’re offering to do nerdy shit with me? God, you’re a dream, Jesus Christ!” He says, hands coming up to cup either side of Steve’s face and peppering kisses all over it- his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and finally, his lips. 

Steve giggles. “So, that’s a yes?” 

“I’ll be here,” Eddie says with a grin. 

Steve wraps his arms around his neck. “And since the kids won’t be there I expect there to be kissing and flirting.”

Eddie inches closer, smirking. “Hm, you can count on it, sweetheart.” 

This time they don’t even get to kiss before the kids are yelling again, this time in unison. “Eddie!”

Eddie lets go of Steve’s waist and slaps his hands against his face. “Motherfucker!” He groans. Then louder, “I’m coming!” 

Steve shakes his head with a laugh as Eddie hops down from the counter.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie tells him. 

Steve gives him another dopey smile- or rather the same one since it hasn’t left his face at all. “Can’t wait.”

Eddie sweeps in for a quick kiss, one that the kids can’t interrupt, marveling for a second at the fact that he can simply do that now. Then with a final tug to Steve’s flowery apron, he skips out of the kitchen, turning around at the doorway to look at Steve one last time. He’s leaning against the counter, smile firmly plastered on his face and looking at Eddie like- 

Well, exactly like Eddie is looking at him. Lovestruck, he thinks comes close to describing it. And ain’t that something. 

He gives Eddie one of those little finger waves, and in return, Eddie blows him a kiss. Steve’s cheeks turning pink is the last thing he sees before he leaves the kitchen and joins the kids in the living room. 

“Okay, shitheads!” He says, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “Which one of you am I sending home walking?”

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.

So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.

Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?

(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)

Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time. 

They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.

Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.

“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.

The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”

“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”

“You know about them?”

“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”

The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”

“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”

The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”

Dash. 

Dash. That’s a name he recognizes. 

Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.

It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.

And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.

Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!

And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful. 

There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.

He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.

So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on. 

He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay. 

Too late for that now, though.

“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”

Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue. 

It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.

“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”

Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”

That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases. 

He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud. 

The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.

“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”

Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”

“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”

“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”

“So how did you end up in Gotham?”

“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”

Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”

Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”

“What are you planning?”

“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”

“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”

And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him.  He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.

In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it. 

Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast. 

One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.

They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows. 

By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest. 

Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.

The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.

As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled. 

Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice. 

The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk. 

Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.

The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human. 

Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave. 

He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?

Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.

Danny.

All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep. 

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”

“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”

“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”

From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.

“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”

Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”

Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”

“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”

“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”

“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.

“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”

“Well,” Danny says, ��That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”

Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”

“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”

“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”

Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”

“That’s me, baby!”

The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.

“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”

The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety. 

He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”

He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny. 

Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.

Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.

Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.

Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist. 

One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow. 

Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.

He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.

When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.

His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.

Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest. 

“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep. 

Danny hums and doesn’t move.

“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”

“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”

A good argument. Duke is also sleepy. 

“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”

“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”

He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”

That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him. 

This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.

Danny makes everything worth it.

(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)

[0310s]

best friend, experienced fwb! leehan x virgin, inexperienced! reader

(continuation of preview one)

warnings: nsfw talk, no explicit scenes

wc: 1.5k

a/n: preview two is here! the smut will be reserved for the actual fic <3 let me know your thoughts so far!!

𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

You’re both seated across your plush floor carpet, your backs leaning against the side of your bed. “So…” you gulp nervously, looking anywhere except for Leehan, whose eyes you can feel are trained on you. You concentrate your attention straight ahead on your shelf—specifically, the fluffy alien plushie your best friend gifted you on your birthday. You've named the lil guy Leehan in your head, although you've sworn yourself to secrecy (and utter embarrassment if the real Leehan were to find out). Leehan (the plushie) has been there during your worst breakdowns and has served as a source of comfort whenever you're stressed. “Where do we start?” You’re rapidly losing the feigned confidence you mustered minutes before Leehan came in.

“Well, you could start by looking at me,” Leehan lets out a small laugh. “And maybe moving closer to me… don’t you think you’re a little too far away?” You then notice the awkward distance between the both of you, practically enough to squeeze in two more people, so you scoot over, leaving a bit of space between you. Definitely farther than usual—you’re both usually comfortably pressed up against each other on most days. Although that ease of physical contact was platonic in nature; you’re not so sure about now. You then find the courage to turn and face him.

Leehan’s eyes curve into relieved crescents. He’s got his chin propped up on his hand as he tilts his head to look at you. “Hi.” He smells comforting, his perfume woody and pleasant. A cuddle session with him would honestly fix you… wait, stop that, brain! These thoughts of yours need to stop; they’re veering towards very dangerous territory.

“Hi.” Your throat is dry and your voice comes out scratchy. You clear your throat in embarrassment, trying again. “Hi, Leehan.” 

Leehan lets out a huff at your awkwardness, still faintly smiling. “How are you? You still up for this?”

Collecting your thoughts, you remain silent for a while. “Honestly? Nervous.” At Leehan’s encouraging nod, you open up. “Okay, well. I’m scared. I’ve never done this before. And I’m also just really self-conscious. I’m already overthinking now, who knows how much more of that I’ll be doing when we… you know…” Your face burns. “I also don’t find myself particularly attractive, you know? I’m just plain old me. Sure, maybe at the very most, I’m cute. But not enough for people to stop and think, wow, they’re really pretty, I have a crush on them. And I’ve never been on the receiving end of sexual or romantic attention. So I… sorry, Leehan, I don’t know where I’m going with this,” you trail off, but Leehan places a warm hand atop your own, which you’re gripping your thigh with.

“Listen,” Leehan begins, “I think everyone experiences a certain amount of self-consciousness when they have sex. After all, they’re allowing themselves to be vulnerable in front of someone else, which is a challenge even outside a sexual context. For me at least, it’s worth experiencing that self-consciousness first to be able to experience that intimacy and connection with your partner.” You nod pensively at what he’s saying. “And I think you’re really understating yourself. If you’ve only known how many guys and girls have asked me if you were single…”

You pause at that information. “Wait, seriously? You’ve never told me about this! I don’t know, maybe you were mistaken…”

“Come on, when have I ever lied to you about anything?” Leehan counters. “I didn’t say anything because I never assumed you were interested in anything romantic back then. You never seemed interested in anyone else, and you never told me anything. So I assume you didn’t really have any crushes…?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” you shrug. “I found people pretty or handsome, but just from an aesthetic standpoint? It never really got to the point that I wanted to act on it… so not a crush.” Still, a flash of insecurity strikes you. “Okay, I know this is about me, but… are you sure you want to do this? It doesn’t really matter if other people find me attractive…”  If you don’t, you were about to say. You’re unable to finish your sentence because of how… misleading it sounds in your head. “I mean,” you correct yourself, “It would be weird and awkward if I was the only one getting anything out of this. I don’t think you’d be, um, turned on in any way.” You find your gaze fixating on the Leehan (the plushie) once again, unable to make eye contact with your (very real) best friend.

“Don’t worry, I will be. Turned on, that is,” you hear from beside you, and you can’t help but turn. Leehan’s ears are red, and he’s glancing at you almost sheepishly. “I hope you know that… you’re really pretty. Anyone with eyes can see that.” Oh. Um. Okay. Oh… Wow. Hearing that from Leehan himself, who is the embodiment of beauty, makes you positively flustered, but you don’t want to think about why exactly that’s so. 

“I…” You don’t know what to say without sounding stupid. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Leehan echoes. “I mean, is that okay with you? That I think that way?” What way, you want to scream, but you’re terrified of overcomplicating things right now. 

“Um. Yes, I guess… I mean, coming from someone as handsome as you, it’s nice to hear,” you admit. You hoped that was a normal enough response (as normal as it could get in your extremely abnormal situation, anyway). And then you risk another glimpse at Leehan—he’s blushing and trying to hide a shy smile, for the love of God. His dimples are so lovely. Do not overthink this, please, for your own sanity!!!

“So…” you attempt to change the subject, but end up making yourself feel even worse. “You’re right, about the self-consciousness thing. Maybe I need to try it out to know how exactly I feel about… intimate stuff… and see if it’s something I really want. But. I don’t know. Could you tell me if you’re not attracted to me or something when you see my body? Before we actually get into anything?” You sound utterly pathetic, and you duck your head down.

“(Y/n)... look at me,” Leehan urges. A gentle hand on your shoulder turns you towards him, and you’re scared to see what expression he’s making. “You’re already beautiful the way you are, with all your imperfections—not despite. I promise you, there’s nothing about you that would make me think you’re unattractive.” His eyes are kind and his touch a comforting weight. You desperately want to believe him.  

“Okay,” you utter. 

“Okay?” Leehan repeats, and you nod slowly. “We can stop at any time you’re uncomfortable. But we don’t even have to at all, if that’s what you want. Sex isn’t something everyone has to do, and there’s really more to relationships than sex. Do you need more time to think over this? We can just hang out now like we always do,” he says, but you have your answer already.

“Leehan, I want to do this. I’m going to be scared and nervous, but I know I’ll be safe with you. And I want to do this with you. There’s no one else I could trust myself more with.” At that, you lean over and wrap your arms around him. You can tell Leehan is momentarily startled, but he settles into the hug, encircling you with his own arms. His palms against your back are gentle and warm. You take a deep breath, melting into the comfort of his embrace.

After a minute or so, you withdraw from his arms. “So Leehan… what do we do now?”

“What do you want to do? It’s your call,” Leehan whispers. 

“I’m honestly not sure? Could you, I don’t know, suggest something and I’ll let you know if it’s something I want?”

“How about… kissing?” Leehan suggests. “It’s simple but a nice way to start.“

“Oh. Well… Uh… I don’t know how to say this, but…” Your hands grow sweaty. “Uh…”

After a few moments of silence, Leehan’s eyes widen in realization. “You’ve never kissed anyone before?” You can feel your face heating up as you nod. “So technically, I’d be your first?” You nod again, albeit slower this time. Then you feel a sudden, unidentifiable, shift in the air as Leehan softly cradles your cheek with his palm. His eyes are dark with desire, and your breath is stolen from you at the awareness that you have the entirety of his attention focused on you. “Tell me you’re okay with me being your first.” He patiently waits for your answer, eyes locked on you. 

You feel the weight of your need to be as close as possible to him. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest. You want to say yes. Yes to Leehan and everything he wants to give you. “I… Yes. Please, Leehan.”

And then he's kissing you.

[snapghoul]

Why Twisters is an amazing movie

Brought to you by snapghoul and their film degree

I really love analyzing films and I need to talk about this movie so badly. Get cozy, grab a nice drink because this is a long one.

Spoilers below

[ Part 2 ]

1) Disaster film - Human vs Nature

Disasters films are one of the most difficult movies to write and shoot because it’s human vs nature and people can only do so much. They are to remind us that we are very fragile, nature very dangerous, and a visual metaphor for the illusion of control. Making a film like this also requires a lot of CGI or a balanced mix of practical effects which in most films today is not as common due to budget.

When looking at films like San Andres (2015) or Day After Tomorrow (2004), both films are more action based. San Andres is written worse to worse before it gets better which is externally common in films like these, the earth quakes that lead to a tsunami and so on. The film also ends with the hopeful “we won” with the American flag and everyone recovering.

What makes Twisters stand out is the presence of the disasters are there but they aren’t what drive the characters solely, the tornadoes themselves are actually a subplot. It’s not tragedy after tragedy, like there’s an ungodly amount of tornadoes at once and people are dying left and right. And when people died it wasn’t graphic, I appreciated that very much that it was only people being swept away and not bloody. The tornadoes themselves only take up about 30 minutes of the 2 hour movie, which is very little compared to other storm films.

The main story is Kate working to overcome her trauma and relearning how to love chasing and being in the field again. They are an obstacle that do end being the “antagonist” towards the end of the film where Kate drives into the EF5 to stop it. Twisters is more written in a way to respect nature, to see the beauty and the power of the earth. Twisters also ends more ambiguous, there is the moment of triumph but it’s very short lived before the resolution of Javi, Kate and Tyler at the airport.

2) Kate’s Character & Relationships

Kate is one of the best written female protagonists I’ve seen in a very long time. Through the film she is struggling to over come a lot of trauma while also trying to juggle her crumbled friendship with Javi and her disconnection with her mother. Her struggles are very real, they weren’t played down or exaggerated, she had realistic response to being in a tornado again after the death of her friends. They also show her reliving that event many times, in the beginning we see a “ghost” of Jeb telling she’s okay, the moment she sees a tornado with Javi up close, she stumbles back and the voices of Jeb as they’re riding out the storm in the pool and how she grabs Tyler’s hand for a second to see if he was still there.

I personally loved that she refused to acknowledge her fear when around others because that is a very human thing, many people do it which makes her very dimensional and relatable. How she didn’t give Ben her last name, how she told Riggs she wasn’t scared. It’s such a real things that it makes me froth at the mouth because it such good writing.

As many people are upset that Kate and Tyler didn’t kiss, I actually agree on why they cut it out, it’s not about their budding romance. In movies there are many different subplots, in Twisters, Kate and Tyler are I would say around subplot C. Which I LOVED, i loved that they didn’t have all her problems fixed by a love interest or how his character downplayed her intelligence. In fact he elevated her character, Tyler is there to remind her the passion and fun of their field, he is also a blank slate with Kate, he has no preconceptions about her or history which allows her to open up and reignite her passion she had before.

And her hair symbolism! How we see it slowly gets more brown and less bright beach blonde that we see in New York.

Kate and Javi’s relationship I would also place at subplot B, Javi trying to get Kate back in the field but doing it in a not so right way. They have some unresolved issues between them regarding the trauma they share and it rears its head multiple times. The line “three of my best friends died while you were trying to land a big fat grant.” Was a real nail in the coffin for them but also it opened Javi’s character development up for the end of the film. Not only that but they and audience known that he agreed to getting the money at the beginning. So them splitting up was good because neither of them could get what they wanted or process anything when they were together. And in the end the come back together when they grow and change.

Also have to mention Kate and her mom, because it’s more growth for Kate, her mom comes in as the mentor character type, she refused to let Kate throw anything away and pushed her and Tyler together because she saw what he was doing.

3) Tyler Owens & The Wranglers

Of course I have to talk about our favorite tornado cowboy. His character is so interesting, he adds so much to each character, like a said above he only lifted Kate up.

But what I loved most about him was the infectious enthusiasm and passion he just oozed about weather. Even with the cocky YouTube personality he was having fun which was a contrast to Javi and Kate who were there on business. He is also very bright, instead of having a self taught chaser he had a degree, he knows what he’s doing and how to be safe while doing stupid stuff. The scenes where we see him showing her science side were some of my favorites, seeing him geek out over the storms and setting up models just showed he’s as much as a nerd and Kate.

His character is also very compassionate as well as the wranglers. We learn they sell merch so they can provide free food and water to survivors, that Tyler and Boone spent a while looking for a dog and that Lilly offered Kate food before she left. We see Tyler put himself in danger for the safety of others many times but not in a hero archetype way, he’s not a hero in any way, he’s a man who deeply cares, understands tragedy and knows how important friends and family are.

4) Music & Sound

Oh my god, the music in the film is phenomenal. Sound makes up a good majority of a movie, without good sound a film can flop. What I loved most about it was a lot of the music was diegetic: taking place in the world and can be heard by the characters. Seen(or heard) Ain’t No Love In Oklahoma playing through the speakers as the wranglers roll up, accompanied by a shot of the loud speakers on the motor home and the audio editing to make it sound like it’s coming from said speakers. (Ghost) Riders in the Sky blasting while they go to shoot fireworks, seeing Tyler whipping the truck through the field very recklessly also sets up that these characters are wild and obnoxious. Boone singing along to Dead End Road while loading flares, it adds another element of fun for them to interact with the music instead of it there so let for aesthetics.

If there was music for the action scenes, it wasn’t overpowering, in fact i barely noticed it until my third watch through.

The soundtrack is also really good, I’m not a huge country fan but my god did I by that OST vinyl so fast.

5) The Trucks

This is an honorable mention, but the red sped up dually ram was a character in its self. Once again showing the rugged and fun loving wranglers when put next to StormPAR’s pristine white trucks which is also a metaphor for Javi that we see it gets dirtier and dirtier as the film progresses and his character changes. But also how the red ram represents Tyler, he’s very safety oriented and the truck is a part of him and protects Kate during the final storm. She puts her trust in it and lets nature run it course instead of fighting it, something Tyler was trying to teach her. Not to run from it but to ride it.

But also Tyler ripping that rig through fields going 75mph is also just so funny to me.

I love symbolism.

I’m gonna stop it here before I write a whole essay about this which I might. But if you haven’t seen this movie I highly recommend it, it’s PG-13 so I suggest being careful watching this with little ones if you have them, the CGI storms can get a little freaky.

(Please let me know if you want more, I will gladly talk more)

[opheliasflora]

Title: The Dance (Joel Miller/gn!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 872

Warnings: Ain’t nothing but fluff, but Ellie’s here so there’s an f-bomb in there. And a bit of making out. (No use of gendered pronouns; no Y/N; Joel calls Reader “honey”. Reader is suggested to be slightly shorter than Joel, but it’s not definitive.)

Notes: Written in about…ten minutes, just inspired by that photo up there. It’s what Joel and Ellie deserve, not what they actually get. Completely un-betaed and honestly…I didn’t even reread it after writing it. This is about as stream-of-consciousness as something could be.

For @ladamedusoif.

(Dividers by @saradika-graphics.)

You’ve never seen Joel look simultaneously so relaxed and so terrified.

He’s been your neighbor since he and Ellie moved to Jackson; the little yard shared between the backs of your houses a space where you slowly learned about the man and his girl that otherwise mostly kept to themselves. Conversations over garden work turned to nights over drinks; Ellie’s presence faded a bit as she made friends, leaving you and Joel alone under the stars more often than not.

Now, though, he sits across the room from you, eyes reflecting the little fairy lights strung overhead. His hair is longer than it had been when you met, despite his sister-in-law’s best attempts to convince him to let her cut it; his clothes fit a bit better now that he’s eating more regularly.

His gaze is trained on his daughter — not his by birth, he’d informed you one late night, but his daughter nonetheless — as she laughs and dances with Dina in the middle of the floor. “I think she’s in love,” he’d told you a few days earlier. “I hope she’ll tell me.”

“She will,” you’d replied. “At her own pace.”

You can empathize with Ellie.

Something drives you to stand up, to move across the room and drop a hand gently on Joel’s shoulder. “Hey.”

“Hiya,” he says, lifting his eyes from Ellie to you. There’s the ghost of a smile on his lips. (Ellie once told you you’re the only person she’s ever seen him smile at besides herself and Tommy. You feel blessed.) “Was wondering when you’d come say hi.”

“You could have done it,” you tease, your fingers playing at the collar of his jacket.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

You grin brightly. “C’mon, Mr. Miller. I want to dance.”

Joel’s dark eyes narrow. “I don’t dance, honey.”

“I’ll show you how,” you reply. You’re not taking ‘no’ for an answer. You slip your hand down his arm a little and tug him upright. “Let’s go show Ellie and Dina how it’s done.”

He hesitates, but slowly, he follows you as you lead him out, your fingers around the meat of his palm. Ellie meets you, then looks at Joel, her own softer brown eyes shining.

They’ve been fighting more. You assume it’s the normal teenage thing; Ellie is sixteen now, making friends, falling in love, discovering herself — you remember what it was like with your own parents when you were her age.

But there’s still love in both of their faces, regardless of disagreements. It’s undeniable.

Joel nods, just slightly, to his daughter as Ellie does the same. They’re so alike, you think.

The music changes to something slower, easier, and Dina immediately wraps her arms around Ellie, who looks shocked for only a split second before easing right into it. There’s another glance at Joel, who finally offers a real smile, and they’re off, spinning into the night.

You slip your hands up and lock your wrists behind Joel’s neck as his broad hands fall to your waist. He doesn’t need any guidance, it turns out — he’s got an easy, natural rhythm and you keep in time with his movements without a thought.

“Feels weird being able to do this, doesn’t it?” you say softly.

Joel looks into your eyes. “A little.” He glances towards Ellie and Dina before meeting your gaze again. “I’m glad she gets to have it, though.”

“What about you?”

He shrugs, his fingers pressing a little harder into your body.

“I’m glad you get to have it,” you offer instead. “I think maybe… You need this kind of normalcy.”

“Don’t know if I deserve it, though.”

Joel’s always like this. Believes his past defines who he should be now; even though he’s never gone into too much detail, you’re willing to believe he didn’t do anything worse than most of the people living in Jackson now.

“We all deserve this, Joel.” You catch your fingers in the curls over his collar. “Even you.”

The music swells and in turn, he spins you slightly, making you giggle. For the moment, he’s completely focused on you — not Ellie and Dina, not Tommy and Maria who have joined in a few feet away.

Just you.

“You’re too kind to me, honey.”

You shake your head. “No, I think I’m just the right amount.”

Joel’s lips curve again, and he pulls you just a bit tighter against him. You take the opportunity and rest your cheek against his heart, listening to the strong, steady beat as he sways you around. You don’t miss the wink from Tommy as you pass by, or the way Ellie’s eyes shimmer as she swings past you.

You’ve always liked the Miller family, and it seems like the feeling is mutual.

You’re even more sure of it when Joel’s got you pressed against the front of his house, his lips on your throat and his hands under the hem of your shirt.

“Get a fuckin’ room!”

Ellie’s laugh echoes across the front yard as you feel your face get hot. Joel, on the other hand, simply laughs into your skin and his fingers press a little harder against your spine.

“Should we take her up on that offer?”

[thesturniolos]

glass ornaments

‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡

merry christmas my sweet babies ! 🎄

here’s my present to you:

more specifically, @freshlovehacker 🎁♡

summary: wholesome tooth-rotting fluff all about decorating the tree and just chris being chris, 1st and 3rd person.

warnings: none!

tags: @sturniolosluvv @sturnsblunt @chrisdevora @sosmatt @kirby0strombolli @stvrni0lo @floofparker @vqnillasturns @slut4chris @chrisolivia4l @silverlakee @freshlovehacker@plasticferal @chrisenthusiast @chrisluvbot @bluesturniolo333 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @mattscokewhore @iheartchrissturniolo @zooweemamas @sturniolotripletsarehot @mcttsturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturnsworld @qwertytit @putyoursemenonme @recklesssturniolo @silly-sturniolos @klarasmith @sturnvilmed @delusionalsturniologirl @thy-mission

christmas is notoriously the best time of the year, we all know this. twinkling lights, cold weather paired with cozy clothes, snowflakes, giving and receiving presents, ice skating, christmas markets, the mad panic in the stores, a long table on christmas day, the unison of families all around the world.

but the best thing of all? the build up. hanging the glass ornaments on the smallest branches of a christmas tree, praying they don’t fall and break. music from the radio plays in the background and people find themselves dancing around the tree to the beat of the song, smiling and soaking up the festivities.

and that was exactly what was happening at a certain person’s house on a cold evening in december.

snow lingered in the air and fell quietly onto the pavement, children squeezing their hands together praying for it to lay.

but in one specific house, an adult, who could be mistaken as a child for his immature ways, pressed his hands together wishing for his cookies to be a golden brown this year, for every holiday he found himself fanning the smoke out of the kitchen.

“i’ve got a good feeling about this one”

“we’d hope so- i don’t feel like having to apologise to the fire brigade again”

the couple stand in the kitchen, the girl holds a plate, ready for the cookies, whereas the boy finds himself wrapped up in a very messy apron.

“okay, i’m going in.” he scoops down and opens the oven door causing a smile to spread across his face as he reveals perfectly baked cookies.

“it worked! it actually worked!” i smile back at him and grab the tray from him so that in all the excitement he doesn’t accidentally burn himself, yes it has happened before.

“well done, baby. i told you you could do it, perhaps this year is your special year!”

“now we have the cookies we can get started on the tree, come on!” chris grabs my hand and pulls me slightly towards the living room.

“you’re not gonna decorate them?”

“we can do that laterrrr, i wanna decorate the tree not the cookies!”

i feel a tug on my hand again and this time it pulls my feet off the floor towards the pine tree.

we had just cut it down today, chris’ face was priceless, i don’t think i’ve ever seen him so happy. he left thanking me and repeating that it’s our first christmas together as a couple and he couldn’t be happier.

just last year, the two had been best friends, childhood best friends even, practically inseparable since birth and painfully in love for everybody to see.

and now they’re here, just as in love with a picture perfect house and everything they could possibly want.

“we need to get more ornaments, we haven’t got enough”

“we’ll have enough chris, we have tinsel and lights to put on as well. it doesn’t have to be full-“

“we need to go to target and get more.”

“chris, we do not need to go and get more. we’ve spent 350 already, do you want to pay the bills this month?”

he frowns at my response and crosses his arms, looking at the bare tree with one singular bauble hanging from a branch.

“we’ve not even started on it yet and you’re already sulking, come on you big baby.” i pull him up from the couch and pass him a plastic ornament.

he carefully places it near the top and looks back at me for approval. i nod and grab another for him.

before they knew it, the tree had been nearly fully decorated and much to chris’ complaints, the tree had barely any space left for any more ornaments or tinsel. although in saying that, a lot of the tinsel ended up wrapped around his neck and being whipped through the air as they paraded about to the songs.

“are we done? can we turn the lights on now?”

“you’ve forgotten the star, it’s the most important part of the tree.”

he jumps to grab it from my hands and balances on the side of the couch to reach and pushed it down onto the top of the branch before leaning back and jumping down excitedly.

“you can turn the lights on now.” i smile at him and he runs over to the outlet to illuminate the tree.

a festival of warm lights shine across our room and i find myself watching chris rather than the tree.

his reaction was enough to make my heart ache and as he turns to face me, i quickly link my arms around his neck.

“do you like it?” i ask, knowing he did most of the work and the result meant the most to him.

“i love it.” he looks back towards the tree and then reverts back to my hand where he brushes his thumb over the ring he gave me not long ago.

this was a moment the pair had been waiting for for a long time and it felt like a dream to them. for everyone else it may seem like a normal day in december but this was a memory that they had been wishing for, every night in the year from the age of 10.

i lean in to press my lips against his and he smiles into the kiss. his lips are warm and welcoming as his arm slides across my waist pulling me in closer, lifting me in the air slightly.

“i love you” he says, pulling away and looking me in the eyes.

“i love you too, chris.”

[s-4pphics]

dial. 4 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 5.5K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst, SMUT MDNI!!!!!, finger sucking!!!, voyeurism, dirty talk, lil assplay, squirting, spit, a lil breeding kink, sextape, masturbation, more porn mentions, bussing untouched, weed, dubcon bc alcohol, pov switches bc im experimenting :p

You returned to campus surprisingly high-spirited. 

You were arriving to class fifteen minutes early, color-coding your notes, smiling and laughing with your friends even more than you used to before shit hit the fan! It scared the shit out of all of them since the last time they saw you, snot was coming out of your nose while you sobbed your eyes out. 

Dina knocked on you and Niah’s front door the night before class with tears in her eyes, whimpering out about how terrible she felt and how she should’ve tried harder to steer you away from her best friend. Nothing was her fault; She did what anyone would, and you ignored it. She slept in your arms that night. 

When you joyfully volunteered to pay for you and Niah’s fancy dinner upon returning to campus, she grilled you, demanding to know where this change of heart came from. As if you weren’t screaming about how much you hated these hoes on FaceTime a couple of weeks ago. All you could do is shrug and laugh some more, confirming that everything would be fine. She seemed a bit skeptical when she peered at you over her glass of wine. 

Niah even volunteered to be angry with you. I’ll still beat her ass! I don’t care if you’re feeling better; I’m not! But you didn’t even want that. You developed a crush on somebody that’s a bad person, who just so happened to have amazing dick! Shit happens, and you’re over it. Sort of. 

You still have something that you need to take care of before you close this chapter of your college career. And there’s only one person who’d be willing to help you out!

“… You want me to what.” 

Your feet tapped nervously on Abby’s hardwood floor as she gawked at you, her body lax on her couch as smoke left her mouth in a large, pale cloud. 

After Ellie exposed her and Abby’s history, you decided to pry. Abby seemed a bit confused at your eagerness to know about their relationship, but she provided some insight. They’re apparently not as close as you thought: they’ve been screwing on and off since freshman year after Abby’s partner cheated on her with someone dressed in a panda costume. What the fuck.

Abby is actually Riley’s best friend, who’s also Ellie and Dina’s really good friend whose also friends with someone named Kayla and your brain is fucking fried and you’re not even high! You don’t know any of these people!

Since when did snooping become this fucking confusing! 

Your hands fiddled nervously, “Um… well, I mean— “

“Listen,” she snickered. “You seem nice, like really fuckin’ nice, but I dunno about this. Ellie’n I aren’t… best friends or anything but—”

“I know it sounds fucking crazy! I know!” Your arms flailed, “This is really outta character for me, but… she…” 

Tears immediately jerked in your eyes as you recalled Ellie’s harsh words. This is the first time you’ve cried since you’ve been back, “She really hurt my fucking feelings. Don’t tell anyone I told you that, by the way! I just wanna…” 

“Use me to get her back?” Abby concluded, leaning over to ash her joint. 

You pouted, “… You make it sound so awful— “

“Well, I mean,” she snorted, offering you the remainder of the joint. You took it gratefully. 

You spoke around your toke, “I dunno what else to do. I don’t know anything about her. The only time I saw her slightly out of character was at the fucking party!”

Abby hummed as she listened when you exhaled. She didn’t seem… entirely off put by your suggestion, but she hasn’t said much this entire conversation. She probably thought you came here for another reason based on her appearance. Ellie and Abby were surprisingly alike. They loved themselves some fucking grey sweatpants!

Moments of silence passed as she stared at the floor with her lip between her teeth, and you knew it was over. She was thinking of a way to kick you out politely. Not only was your one chance at karma destroyed, but you might’ve cost yourself a potential friendship with Abby! You’re bound to be walking out of here without the dignity you attempted to salvage in the next five seconds. Is it hot in here or is the bud getting to you quicker than expected—

“Run the plan by me one more time?” 

You looked up at her, meeting the mischievous glint in her eyes. You choked on your last puff of the blunt and your brows raised in shock. Her index finger tapped on the back of the couch while you went through the run-down for the weekend. 

She still hasn't said anything after your second explanation, and your body flushed hot in mortification. You threw in the towel with a heavy sigh.

“Abby, I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “I shouldn’t have thrown this on you. Apparently, I’m not good with strangers, either!” 

You tried to mask your incoming breakdown with an awkward chuckle as you stood to leave, “Um… yeah. I’m sorry— “

“Alright.” 

Your heart jerked in your chest.

“I’ll do it.” 

“R-Really?” 

“Mhm. Ellie never discounted when I picked up, anyway,” she spoke around her bite of a peach ring.  

You leaped from the longue chair to the couch, squealing out thank you’s and throwing your arms around her neck. You felt her hand squeeze the plush on your hip, and you shuddered above her. 

She grinned like a Cheshire and offered you her pinky. 

“Our little secret?” 

You smiled like a fox and laced yours with hers. 

You don’t know when or how your balls dropped, but they were dangling and fucking huge. 

Did you purposefully wear your Sunday best to the Starbucks that Ellie works at? Yes! Were your titties freezing on the way over here from the cut in your sweater dress? Abso—fucking—lutely! You received so many compliments from your peers during your sociology course, though! 

Your heeled boots clanked on the tile with every step you took in the fast-paced line. You hoped Ellie could see you from the register!

It only took two minutes for you to be standing in front of the service counter, finally face-to-face with the first person you’ve ever plotted on. 

“Morning…” you gazed down at her nametag, “Ellie.” 

“… Mornin’,” Her eyes shifted, “Chai latte, extra mi—? “

You ignored the fluttering of your heart as she recited your order. 

“Actually,” your tone was honey-sweet and your smile stretched across your cheeks, “I’d like a Java Chip Frap. Extra chocolate syrup… aaand…” 

You pretended to study the menu board behind her, “A pack of Madeleines!”

She swallowed at the mention of her favorite munchie. You recall catching glimpses of her sneaking some into her pocket before her shift ended every other day. 

She cleared her throat and stared at the screen in front of her, “Anything else?” 

“No, that’s all!” 

You scanned your student card while she wrote your name on your cup. You threw the most darling, pageant-ready have an amazing day, Ellie you could muster over your shoulder. You didn’t bother to wait for her reply before strolling to the pick-up line with a newfound pep in your step. 

That was the best cold drink you’ve ever had!

Saturday came like a freight train. Today was the day. 

Today was the fucking day! 

You were absolutely terrified; You woke up with anxiety pooled in your gut, your mind racing with hundreds of questions. 

What if something bad happens and all this plotting was for naught? What if Abby doesn’t show tonight? What if Ellie chose to just not attend the soccer house party for once? All this pent-up aggression inside you would never get released. 

You rolled your black back seam stockings while Niah curled her hair. 

“Is there a reason we're doing all this extra shit for a stingy party?” Niah asked as she removed her elastic band. 

The second you returned home from Starbucks, you dragged Niah from her bed and into the mall. This would count as your monthly splurge (auntie slid you a few extra coins)! It was vital that you looked as sexy as possible, even if it meant putting a dent in your allowance. 

“Can I not do the most for once?” Your brow arched, twiddling your fingers like an evil villain. 

“You always do the fucking most,” Niah stared blankly as she curled her ends. You giggled and skipped over to where she sat at her desk. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You cheesed. 

She rolled her eyes, “Get out my face with that gay shit, bruh— “

“I wanna kiss!”

“I dunno why you’re so excited. You know damn well that girl is gonna be there.” 

Your smile widened. She looked up at your silence with a glare, her sharp liner slicing through you as she studied your face. 

“Did y’all fucking make up?” 

“Not at all,” you hummed. 

She didn’t let up, her eyes squinting at you before they doubled in size. 

“Oh my god…” 

“What.” 

“YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEBODY ELSE!” She sprung out of her desk seat, almost dropping her curling iron. “No wonder you’ve been acting so fucking weird— “

“What’s weird about being happ— “

She squealed in excitement, “Shut up! Who is it! Who’s tearing them organs up— “ 

“NIAH! Nobody’s tearing anythi— “

“CALL FROM: ABBY SMILING FACE WITH HEARTS SMILING FACE— “

Siri, followed by your ringtone, blared through your speaker. 

Niah slowly peered over at your desk before looking back at you.

“… And who the fuck is Abby?” 

By the look in her eye, she must’ve already known. 

Oh fuck. 

“U-Uh— “

Niah sprinted towards your desk before you could stop her, snatching your device and answering despite your anxious protests and grabs for it. 

“Yes, hello. Are you smashing my— “

“NIAH! STOP!” You were able to wrangle your phone out of Niah’s grasp, speaking over her shouts of just two whores fornicating!

You could hear Abby snickering, “So much for a secret.” 

“I’m sorry! I can't beat her intuition. Or Siri!”

“You’re cute,” Her voice was like butter, “Just checkin’ to see if we’re still on.” 

Whores! Whores, I tell you! Boutta sweat my wig off! Niah hollered, finally resigning and leaning against your desk. 

“Yeah, we are. Unless you don’t wanna— “

“Shut it. I want to.” 

A shudder wracked through you at the drawl of her tone. Niah shook her head, and you bucked at her with a threatening stare. 

“Okay. I’ll see you soon?” 

“See you soon.” 

The two of you gently farewelled and hung up. You turned to see Niah shamefully shaking her head at you. 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit in my lifetime,” she started, “I’ve never, in all my years, seen anyone fuck their side piece’s side piece.” 

… Were you really the only one who didn’t know that Ellie and Abby canoodled? 

Your eyes rolled, “You’re so fucking dramatic.” 

She reached behind her and grabbed two nips of 1800, tossing one in your direction, almost cracking you in the face with the plastic bottle. 

“You’re gonna need that shit. Harlot.” 

The soccer house was on one; They knew how to fucking throw a not-Christmas party! 

You prayed with every fiber of your drunk being that the feds wouldn’t show up as you threw it back on Niah as Dina grabbed your titties. Tequila’s the devil and coaxes sluttery! 

Drake always sounds more talented when you’re fucked up. Good on him! 

Eyes were burning through your body and you showed out for them. 

Until you felt your phone vibrate in your fucking bra you can’t have shit in this house! —

You irritatingly pulled it out of your bra, leaning on Dina’s shoulder to read your message from… Abby, oh fuck fuck fuck—

You smirked and searched the dark room for your new pretty friend. A moan almost left your throat when you saw her standing by the counter packed with liquor… in a muscle tee that read DO MILFS, NOT DRUGS. And a lollipop stick in her mouth. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion when you locked eyes with Abby. She nodded behind you with a grin. 

You peered over your shoulder and instantly regretted it. 

Ellie was standing against the wall in a flannel and beanie, yet another girl pressed up against her while she smoked. And stared at you. Stared hard at you. Were those the eyes you felt seconds ago? Pride exploded in your chest at the thought. 

… But how long has she fucking been standing there, and why didn’t you fucking notice? You’re never touching Tequila again! 

You shot another text to Abby before shutting your phone off, watching her squeeze through the crowd to get over to your little group. 

“Okay, baby?” Dina shouted in your ear over the music as she rubbed your back. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the blonde girl. 

Abby popped up behind Dina, tapping her shoulder to greet the girl that was propping you up. Abby whispered something to her, and Dina’s grip loosened around your waist. You smiled when Abby presented in front of you, throwing your arms around her neck to keep yourself steady. 

You barely heard Niah’s shouts of whore alert before Abby leaned down to connect your lips. The shots she had mixed with her cherry-flavored chapstick and apple lollipop as her mouth caressed yours, calls of oh shit from partygoers around you drowning your head. The attention made you kiss her deeper, your tongue easing into her mouth as people hooted around you. 

Abby’s strong arms wrapped around your waist to hold you to her strong chest, her sneaky hands crawling down to grab your ass through your dress. You moaned into the kiss, lacing your fingers through her curled locks. 

She tightened her hold on your hips and spun you, a thin line of drool connecting your lips before your back met her chest. You held onto a shocked Dina’s hips while you threw it on Abby, your back arched while she thrusted into your ass. 

Niah, ever the sweetheart, slapped it encouragingly, your hips pushing further onto Abby until she grabbed your shoulder and hauled you back up, her large arm enclosing around your throat. You felt her messily kissing your neck and up your ear, and your eyes fluttered open. 

Don’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllie—

You did everything in your power to ignore her harsh stare, pulling Niah’s hips back on yours, exposing more space on your neck for Abby to suck, anything anything anything! Don’t fucking look at her!

“Ready?” Abby shouted in your ear. 

Thank god for Abby; You were this close to looking at her. 

You nodded, and she whisked you upstairs after you blew your friends' kisses. 

Why the fuck was Ellie fuming in this dark corner? 

Not only did you blow the fuck out of her high, but you decided to do it with someone she considered a… she doesn’t fucking know. Someone close enough for it to feel like a betrayal!

And you looked so fucking sexy in the act. 

The person chewing on her neck must think that the squirms she’s trying to cover are because of them. They weren’t, not when you’re around dancing like money is getting thrown all over you. 

How did you manage to get her so fucking horny with absolutely no interaction? You looked at her once since you’ve arrived. She could bet every cent in her bank account that you’re a witch! The sluttiest, sex-obsessed witch with good pussy. Not to mention, you’re so fucking sweet. 

Well, you used to be.

Ellie’s never seen this wild side of you. You’re always structured and organized and sweet like fucking honey. Somebody will get a cavity if they get too close to you. She can attest. 

All she could do was watch you and Abby trek upstairs with interlocked hands, something nasty stabbing in her gut at the sight. She knows she’s a hypocrite. A disgusting, vile hypocrite with the audacity to feel negatively about you seeing someone else. She’s fucked up and she’s horny and she wants you. Fuck, you have such good pussy. 

And the prettiest brown eyes. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck—

She hasn’t seen eyes that gorgeous since she fucking moved away for school. Since the last time she saw her. 

Seconds, minutes, it felt like hours went by as she replayed every interaction the two of you have had since you met. Sex, sex, sex, you trying to get closer, her getting upset at you trying, sex. More good— great sex. You're pulling the leash you have on her with your cunt, for fucks sake. 

She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing off to the side, but the person that fucked up her neck disappeared. Probably took too long to fucking react because she’s too busy thinking about how tight your cunt chokes her dick. 

What the fuck were you and Abby doing? Ellie knows she’s a fucking hypocrite. 

She pulls her device out of her pocket to ease her stress, but her stomach plummets when she sees a message from Abby. 

Ellie’s such a fucking, goddamn hypocrite. 

She forces herself through the crowd and scurries up the stairs like the floors on fire, ducking and dodging drunk students that were in her path until she stood at the top of the steps.

She instantly hears you over the booming bass. A choked scoff leaves her before anything, your pleased cries ringing through her eardrums like a church bell, and she almost loses it in the middle of the hallway. She’s getting so wet and your moans are getting higher in pitch and she knows you're about to cum. Why’s she out of breath and pissed and drenched to hell?

The door’s right there. 

She takes a couple steps until she’s facing it, her hand resting on the knob. You always asked her to keep all entries open when she fucked you outside. You’re just as gross as she is. 

One twist and it’s over. 

She’s such a fucking hypocrite. 

Whoever owns this bed is going to need a new mattress. You’ve never been this wet in your life. 

Is it gross that staring into Ellie’s shocked, glossy eyes are making your pussy squeeze down on Abby’s dick? Even after all the bullshit she’s done, she still makes you drip like a faucet. Shame on you and your cunt. 

S—it down, you whimpered, and Abby chuckled. 

Abby’s harsh thrusts slowed when you cracked out your command, a harsh slap landing on your ass, and the arch in your back deepened. Ellie exhaled a harsh breath and shut the door behind her, her body falling against the wood due to her wobbling legs. The more you inspected her bruised chest, the angrier you became. Who was she trying to fuck now? A nasty smile grew on your face at the sight of her in complete disbelief. 

Abby pulled out until just the tip was inside before slamming her entire length back into you, your jaw slackening when an oh, fuck escape you and Ellie. You hardly recognized your own voice. 

Her eyes left yours and stared behind you, your core squeezing when her fists clenched at her sides and eyes darkened. 

S-Sit down. Be a good girl’n sit d-down, you whimpered, your walls squeezing on the silicone. 

She looked down at you again, her cheeks tinting a darker shade of red whenever you addressed her. Your glare hardened when she didn’t listen, and her body cowered, eyes sparkling before pushing herself off the wall and onto the small lounge chair at the front of the room so she was facing you. 

Ellie’s hands were fiddling in her lap as she took the scene of you: liner and glitter running down your cheeks in a heap of tears, bruised neck and tits pressed against her friend’s ruffled sheets, your ass bruised to hell. She could see your slick and cum glistening on Abby’s cock under the dim lamp of the room. Her boxers were a mess. 

Such a sexy little pornstar, isn’t she, El?

Ellie wanted to cry when you and Abby laughed lightly. This is the first time she’s been speechless when it came to anything related to fucking. She loves sex, but she’s always, always, in control no matter what. The lack of ability she had over the situation made her throat dry and clit throb. She’d never admit it, though. 

W-Wanted t’make me a pornstar so bad? You spat shakily. You’re gonna sit there’n record Abby f-fucking me. 

Ellie’s breathing increased at the demand. You always looked so fucking sexy on camera. A natural vixen, you are. She’s never been this wet. Fuck, fuck, please—

Take your phone out, El, Abby encouraged with a sly smirk, You know how wet this pussy gets on cam. 

Ellie’s body didn’t feel like hers, like her soul was floating above her physical form. She heard the soft platplatplat of your ass clapping on Abby’s hips before she realized the two of you were fucking again, your loud cries chiming through the spacious area. Your pussy sounded so fucking wet. 

Atta fuckin’ girl, tha’s my girl, c’mon, Abby groaned while she watched your cunt milk her dick. She would give anything to cum in you. See her cum flow out of you like water. Breed you fucking full. 

She couldn’t take her eyes away from your ass. The movement of it was hypnotizing and it was bruising beautifully. She almost retrieved her own phone from her jean pocket to take a picture for herself. Almost. 

Ellie’s arm moved on autopilot, her fingers digging in her pocket for her device. You caught a glimpse of the flashlight she accidentally turned on in your haze, and smiled, fucking back onto Abby to meet her thrusts. You kept your eyes on Ellie as she held her phone up, the quiet blip indicating that she was recording. 

Your eyes flickered from Ellie’s heaving chest to the two small lenses in the corner of her phone, your back arching deeper so that she could get a good look at your ass rippling from each thrust. Your nails dug into the duvet every time Abby brushed against your cervix, her dick plunging into your squishy cunt. 

S-She’s fucking me s’good, Ellie, fuuuck—

Your babbles were sloppy and nearly intelligible, mumbled together in a fast, wet muss of your tongue. You couldn’t think about anything except Abby’s dick and Ellie’s fucking camera. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back every time your eyes passed over the lens. Ellie was right; Maybe you were meant for porn. 

Ellie… ugh, shit! C’merecomehere—

Ellie looked like a newborn deer trying to walk when she got up and stood directly in front of your sweaty, fucked out form. Her camera was right in front of your face, and a hazy, drooly smile made its way onto your face. You could feel your impending orgasm sizzling all the way down to your toes. 

M’gonna squirt, fuck, thinkI’mgonnasquirt!—

Both girls moaned aloud at your squealed warning, Ellie’s thighs squeezing right in front of your face. Her hands were shaking around her phone and… her fucking hands are so sexy—

Your pussy was in agreement; The squelching sounds of your wet walls got louder with your moans, your screams flying off the walls with Abby’s, your eyes glued on Ellie’s long fucking fingers and the veins in her hands—

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and licked over all four of the digits clenched over her device. She squealed in shock but you didn’t care, pulling away with your tongue out like a dog, eyes begging for her to fuck your throat with them. 

Ellie held her phone with her dominant hand and dragged two wet fingers over the flat of your tongue, angling her phone so that the way your throat closed around them was captured. Ellie was whimpering to herself and desperate to fucking cum. Was she crazy or was she about to nut from you gagging and drooling all over your hand? She’s crazy; She has to be fucking crazy—

Her walls were squeezing so hard in her jeans; She might actually fucking cum. She’s a goner, fuck fuck fuck—

Milk her fingers like you're milking this dick, baby, that’s it, Abby moaned out before releasing a line of drool on your ass and rubbing it in with her thumb. You choked around Ellie’s thrusting fingers, eyes crossing in your head while your pussy cried. And squeezed so hard, Abby almost couldn’t move. You felt your juices leave you in a light spray as Abby announced her orgasm, squealing about how swollen you’re going to be with her cum. You’re cumming, you’re cumming so fucking hard—

Your head dropped onto the edge of the mattress, Ellie’s spit coated fingers ripping from your mouth and you screamed, your cum drenching the bed and Abby’s dick and waist, your clit jumping with every pulse of your walls. You couldn’t keep yourself upright any longer, falling completely flat onto the bed as your body thrashed from pleasure you could hardly bear. Abby’s body laid flat on top of yours so she could force her dick deeper into you, fuck more cum out of you and milk the last bit of her orgasm.

You sobbed from the intensity, but Abby didn’t stop until your hand flew back to push her off you. She planted one wet kiss on the back of your neck before gently pulling out. Your thighs were still shaking and your clit was twitchy, but you felt so good. 

And so much better. 

It took a minute for your teary eyes to peel open. Ellie was crouched down on the floor with her knees to her chest, heavy breaths and light whines leaving her mouth while her lashes fluttered. 

Abby chuckled behind you, landing one playful smack on your ass before leaning over your form to whisper in your ear. 

Think she came when you did, She snickered.

A breathy giggle left you. Ellie couldn’t meet your eyes, hers glued to the hardwood. 

Your auntie was right; Maybe revenge was the way to go. 

You shut the bathroom door and made your way back to the bedroom, where a dazed Ellie was sitting on the bed. 

Abby left with a see you soon and a kiss on the cheek, leaving you and Ellie alone to suffocate in silence. She looked lost in thought as her finger tapped on her thigh, her teeth digging into the dry skin of her lip. You breathed heavily before walking to tower over her. 

“I want you to send me the video,” you spoke stoically, nothing bothering to wait for her to speak.

She nervously met your eyes for the first time since you orgasmed, eyes glossy like a puppy getting scolded, before grabbing her phone from where she tossed it on the bed. She shakily tapped a few times before your device vibrated in your hand. 

“Now delete it. Delete everything. Every video, every Snap. All of it,” your voice was sharper than a blade. 

You loomed over her as she scrolled through all of your memories together, your cheeks warming at the sound of your moans and cries of her name, watching closely as she trashed all the footage of the two of you fucking since you met. 

Whenever you were confident that no evidence remained, you ensured she would never hit your line again. 

“Block me, Ellie. On everything.”

She exhaled shakily before doing so on every platform and line of communication. You spun on your heel when she finished without another word, heart heavy, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you to retreat back to the lively environment downstairs. 

You deleted Ellie’s contact information when you reached the bottom of the steps. 

Ellie was absolutely distraught. And the horniest she’s ever been in her fucking life. 

She refused to move from her spot on the bed until a couple shoved into her friend’s room, eager to rip each other’s clothes off. She had too little and enough sex for tonight. She cringed when she got up and felt her cum squishing in her boxers. 

… She can’t believe she busted from just your tongue on her hand like a fucking loser. 

She didn’t bother to wait for Jesse and the rest of the soccer team like normal, opting to walk home and regain some peace of mind. The cold shocked her body when she stepped outside of the packed house, the melting ice crunching under her sneakers. 

Much to her dismay, she thought about you the entire stroll. Her mind raced, flooding with images of you getting absolutely destroyed by Abby. And looking up at her while you sucked the life out of her fingers. And your sparkly fucking eyes whenever you laughed at something stupid and unfunny she said. 

She fucked up, she fucked up so bad. 

Anxiety was stirring in her gut all the way up to her and Jesse’s apartment. 

Ellie hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at her when everyone returned to campus, but she felt vicious, unfiltered rage radiating off your body when you loomed over her. The disappointment she was so used to seeing after turning you down was replaced by disdain, and it made bile rise in her throat. Your composure used to impress her, but now she was terrified of it. 

You actually fucking hated her. 

Dina mentioned how she might’ve awakened something that you tried to keep hidden, but she didn’t care enough to listen. 

Ellie didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, but she did want to keep you at a distance. You were caught in a crossfire you never needed to be in, and she didn’t do enough to stop you from getting hit. 

She sees so much of her past in you. The moments of eagerness and joy and elation she felt in her younger years, it all crashed into her the second she stared into your eyes for too long. She almost saw roses blooming in them. She grew to despise your optimism very quickly. 

Ellie shoved her key so hard into their door she thought she bent it, ripping it open and slamming it shut. All her weight fell against the wall and she sighed. Her head was pounding and so was her clit. 

You’re so fucking hot. What the fuck. 

Her hands ran down her face in exasperation before she kicked her shoes off, unbuttoning and removing her jeans and soaked boxers. 

She slid down the door and squatted, her fingers instantly finding her twitching clit. She sighed at the sensation before dipping her digits lower, pushing past her entrance and collecting her juices to bring back to her rosy bud. She alternated between rubbing and fucking into herself, moaning into the dark space of the living room. 

She couldn’t unsee… you. Everything about you. Your scars, the dark hairs of your furrowed brows, your plump, wet lips slobbering all the way down her wrists. The deeper she reached, the hotter she became, her sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead. 

A-Abby, fuck me h-harder, please? 

Am I a good girl? M’your good girl?

M’so wet, oh god!

You fuck me t-the best! Yeah, yes yeah—

Your voice was the only thing ringing through her empty brain. Anyone would’ve been embarrassed, disgusted, traumatized by what you and Abby did. The two of you shattered her completely, breaking down every barrier she built for herself for so long. Distance was no longer her priority; She wanted to be in between the two of you so fucking bad. 

She was already so close, so close to tipping over, to wetting her fucking floor, all because of you. Fuck, she fucked up; Was it too late to tell her you were the best— one of the best she’s ever had? She has to protect her pride somehow, even if it’s pointless. 

She dug into her cunt harder, grinding her fingers into the spot that made her see stars, sent her to fucking heaven. Your name left her mouth in an almost manic cry, whimpering the syllables over and over again until she crashed, legs closing around her wrist when her pleasure shook her form. She shoved three unoccupied fingers into her mouth and swallowed around them, fucking her throat and her cunt at the same time, trying to replicate the feeling of your tongue on her again.

She almost cried when the sensation wasn’t the same. Nothing felt like your mouth, your tongue, and it sent a painful jolt in her heart. 

She came down and finally allowed her tears to fall, barely having the strength to ride out the last bits of her pleasure before she slumped onto the floor. Sobs escaped her in choked gasps. She’s a fucking idiot to be crying over you. Over the little twinkles in your eyes whenever you’re excited. 

Ellie’s a heartless, ungrateful hypocrite, and she ruined her billionth chance at redemption. 

ellie got bitched LMMMFAOOOOO

this is not a love triangle!!! or is it

jk its not lol

taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka @aouiaa @lastofvenus

teaser, one, two, three, five

[punkpandapatrixk]

🌓Sweet Girl Venus ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

This world contains in it a great number of elements that push most everyone to toughen up and abandon all senses of calm, grace and loveliness on the path towards growing up. In this world, so many people believe that the only way towards great achievements is by becoming tough. Whilst it is true that strength of character is crucial for survival, I don’t think toughness has to translate into being actually hard on oneself or everyone else.

Psychology says, ‘When someone is exceedingly critical of the smallest, most trivial things, that means they crave Love most of all.’

Here is a love letter from the Venusian Goddess harmonic of your Higher Self to yourself💌More than you may realise at this moment, you really are still a sweet and kind baby of gentle melodies and fragrant bouquet💐If you’d eventually realise this of yourself wholeheartedly, oh, that would be…

♥︎

SONG: teddy bear by Hamasaki Ayumi

MOVIE: Uptown Girls (2003)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Bubblegum Blue Baby

VIBE: Hatsukoi Shoujo (Singer’s First Love) by Sheena Ringo & Noir by SUNMI

what’s really sweet about you – King of Wands Rx

You’re the type of person who, in spite of your passion and determination, aren’t cruel. You possess a strong character and try to uphold justice everywhere you go. You’re really a courageous fellow with a heart of gold. Baby-blue gold. I see that you’re often the type of friend who cheers other people up; you always have an idea in your mind to make someone else feels better about their darker days. When somebody is lacking courage or confidence in themselves, you’re the one who says, ‘I believe in you, tho! It’s clear to ME you can do it!’

And because you always seem so energetic, confident and capable, people easily believe your words. I think people haven’t told you enough how grateful they are that you’re always cheering them on like that. It’s not that they’re not grateful; it’s that they don’t know how to convey their gratitude properly. You know, sometimes words fail us. Especially when you’re the type of magickal butterfly that attracts naturally a lot of people who are not so confident in themselves. Such people, sometimes they simply don’t know how to utter words of gratitude because not many people in their lives have shown them enough appreciation. You could be, probably, like the ONLY person in their world who shows them appreciation like that!

You’re really so kind and charitable, more than you’ll ever hear from the mouths of other people♥︎

honouring your softness – King of Cups

And I guess, for the most part, such people really see that you’re an authoritative figure in your own respect. Because you appear to them so large and magnanimous, people don’t even suspect that you also have your down days. Certain days, you’re also in the mood for getting praises just like everybody else! But because you don’t get that as much as you’d like, sometimes you get sad. I think you struggle with a little self-loathing (or a sense of being a phoney) every now and then, feeling like you’re not good enough whilst everybody else seems to move ever forward, supported by your encouraging words.

Sometimes you feel envious of others for what they have. They seem to have everything going on a lot easier than you. But baby, stop! This is all your wild assumption. The truth is, people really be trying their best to put up a strong face, to put their best foot forward and come and tell you good news about them, because they want to get praises from you😅Yeah, some things in Life really be tricky like that. As convoluted it gets, this is actually their way of thanking you. You encouraged them before, you gave them so much courage, inspiration and motivation; now they’re doing better and they want to let you know it’s thanks to you! They want you to feel proud of both themselves and the magnanimous ways you’ve cared for them🥲

Well, now that you know… Pretty baby, stop being so sad!🐬

a happily ever after – 7 of Cups

You’re the type of person who, most of the time, has your head in the clouds. This makes you feel ungrounded often. I think you sometimes feel overwhelmed by reality itself. There’s a lot of things you don’t understand and you often feel lost about the meaning of existence and your place in the world. Fret not—you’re hardly a failure. You’re magick, baby💙Magickal beings often find living in the Human world incredibly taxing, so you can be patient with yourself—it’s a group thing LMAO

If anything, it is exactly because you’re a magical being like this that you can be sure you’re going to get everything you want out of Life. As long as you don’t allow yourself to stop dreaming in exchange for being practical! You see, the world really isn’t as linear as you think. So, be confident in who you are and your own personal favourite methods of manifesting. There’s quite nothing in this world you can’t have. You just need to learn to focus on one or two things at a time so you get each thing you want faster⚡️Isn’t so wonderful to be so magickal?

Know that you could be so much happier. You could be so much more spiritually content because your heart really is good. In spite of some things you may believe about your flaws, your Higher Self really doesn’t view you that way. In this world that is a world of chaos where 98% of people are hurting and hurting each other, it’s expected, so it’s not such a big deal. You really are such a kind Soul and your sweetness, your charitable bubbliness, just needs your acknowledgement so you can give yourself more tender care🌸

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💙

quantum glow-up! – Silver Physician (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Magick

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Pile 2 – Soft Enterprising Boss

VIBE: Cookie by NewJeans & YEPPI YEPPI by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – Ace of Pentacles

You are a powerhouse of creativity. You’re incredibly smart and resourceful. You’re like an idea bank but you couple that with real, tangible efforts that always produce real results. You have an amazing capability for laser focus and your work ethic is almost inimitable. With that, you’re truly a dependable friend who has a lot to offer those around you. People turn to you for advice, and you always have something valuable to offer. But yeah… that doesn’t mean your input is always appreciated. But that’s not your fault, right?

You need to admit that a lot of people are hopelessly confused. Sometimes, people simply want a friend to confide in and hear their whining. I know you’re almost always there to lend an ear even though it kinda irritates you that people seem so lost, so incapable of helping themselves. You genuinely want to help, but like already mentioned, sometimes all someone needs is a company that listens compassionately. I think you’re good as long as you’re there to be a pillar for someone in need.

So really, you needn’t concern yourself with how that someone will resolve their issues if they, indeed, do not seem that interested in resolving their own issues🤪It’s not like you’re getting paid for caring so much about other people’s personal drama!

honouring your softness – 2 of Pentacles

More than you give yourself credit for, you’re actually a really reasonable person. You’re grounded in reality and able to weigh options more realistically than most people you know. You’re always thinking of pros and cons in your head. That’s wonderfully responsible, of course, but sometimes you could get stuck in a rut when you simply can’t decide. Still, I think you’re such a wonderfully capable person who’s willing to go the distance when your mind’s finally set for a prize.

You’re ambitious and tenacious; no matter the challenge, you’re up for whatever. If it requires lessons, training, complex practices, extensive readings, you can do it all. But hey, stop to breathe a little, will you? The world doesn’t end tomorrow so you needn’t hurry so much, alright? It benefits no one to be so hard on yourself whatever the rewards may be at the end. What’s really exciting about this whole thing is how much you’re enjoying yourself as you gain knowledge and skills. So, I hope you remember this at all times.

As long as you’re having fun, Life’s good, you know. You can’t possibly think that Life’s only gonna get good when you’re at the end of your journey, right?

a happily ever after – 8 of Wands

You are a visionary—admit it. You have amazing ideas and your visions could possibly even change the world. You could become someone profoundly inspirational because there’s a teacher-like quality in you. If you feel that you’re not that good at communicating your ideas, it’s definitely a skill you can polish. You really have got it in you to become an effective speaker, even on a public platform, because your mind is usually quite methodical. Practice is all you need.

Even if you identify as someone shy, or timid, actually you will be so much happier in Life if you could be in the public eye for when you do so, you get to be charitable with your skills and knowledge. When you’re older in Life, you will have gained so much expertise in various disciplines, and if you’re not gonna share with others, how else are you gonna ever feel blessed?

You are a shooting star sent from Mars—or Venus—to teach Humanity a transcendent way of living. I hope you never forget how precious you are just for the fact you’ve reincarnated on Earth in this passage of time😜

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻🧡

quantum glow-up! – Green Magus (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Fertility

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Pile 3 – New-World Inventor

VIBE: Super Shy by NewJeans & Spicy by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – 4 of Cups

Gosh, you are such a loyal one that sometimes it comes to your detriment. You’re the type of person who could go the extra mile to accompany someone who doesn’t even deserve your compassion. You’re willing to sacrifice a lot to make another person feels less alone even when you’re not getting the same in return. I think you have a noble heart and that’s something clearly valuable. But… I hope you know when to stop giving your support to those who are clearly losers, hopeless cases. There’s only so much you could give to another when your own Cups aren’t getting filled in return.

‘People treat you the way they view you. Be blind if you want.’

I know you don’t want to disappoint because you know how depressing it is to get disappointed. You know first hand all the painful sensations that come with having your trust broken. But the way I see it, you shouldn’t turn your past disappointments into a goody two shoes tendency to please everybody. Are you certain this isn’t just a weird overcompensation that could destroy you in the end? You may wanna check out this concept of a Good Girl Syndrome. Understanding the symptoms could just help you unravel the patterns🧵🪡✂️

honouring your softness – Queen of Pentacles

You are an Old Soul, and it doesn’t matter how young or old you are right now, you have this innate desire to be of service to others. On a profound Soul level, you have this magnanimous energy that makes you want to care and nourish those you come into contact with. You are really a kind person, incredibly generous, to a fault LMAO After all, this Human world is littered with shameless takers who do not set a limit for themselves. You don’t wanna be stupid enough to get drained all the time by ingrates, right?

So, it’s time to stop giving too much of yourself and start affirming that you, too, deserve the company of people who will nourish you as much as you them. If you don’t start reaffirming this daily, it may never manifest, which would be such a shame because you’re so deserving to be blessed with warmth and sweet emotions🥧

a happily ever after – Page of Swords Rx

At the present moment, you may be thinking you’re simply afraid of conflicts and arguments. Heck, you don’t even like feeling other people’s negative emotions. If you were to stand up for yourself, you’re sure everybody would give you a nasty look, or even spew very unkind words to make you feel bad. So you know this and you try to avoid that as much as possible. But that’s got to stop now because when you really think about it, all the chaos and conflicts are WITHIN you. Is that even worth it? Do you think you deserve to live like this?

‘You’re keeping the peace around you, but what about the peace in you?’

I’d like to remind you, you’re really such a smart person. You’re so knowledgeable and actually, if you’re honest, have great desires to be of service to the world. You’re a high-value somebody, so you’re allowed to muster the courage to affirm that you CAN take up space and still maintain your boundaries. Alright? One day you’re going to really change the world. But right now, you need to change your world first.

Don’t be afraid of being seen as a bitch, especially when you know you’re not a bad person🍒Sweet girls can still be SPICY🌶

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💗

quantum glow-up! – Gold Astronomer (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Innocence

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[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for saying I prefer to date autistic people?

🐑🐑

So, I am not autistic. I am diagnosed with ADHD and BPD and it can be somewhat similar to autism, but not quite.

A majority, if not all, of my friends are autistic. Including my best friend who I love more than anything, so, I’m constantly surrounded by people on the spectrum.

A few days ago, this subject came up in a discord server I’m in and I explained that I, even as an allistic person, prefer to date autistic people because it’s more comfortable for me. I have some theories as to why this is, but I just get along with people on the spectrum way better than with allistic people.

I think it’s mostly that I struggle with reading people as well, but in a different way. My bpd just always makes me assume that people are pissed at me or don’t like me, but otherwise I do very well in social interactions. I don’t really have this problem with my friends, because they’re the type to tell me if I did something that makes them uncomfortable and then we’ll talk it out. Boom, problem solved.

I don’t like when people make a huge deal out of it and refuse to even tell me what’s wrong. It stresses me out severely, especially when I can clearly tell that something is wrong.

Plus most of my interests just tend to overlap with those of autistic people.

Also, I just want to make clear that autism goes far beyond struggling with social interactions or not recognizing sarcasm. And that those things aren’t even true for a lot of autistic people. Don’t worry, I’m aware of these things, I’m just trying to explain why I feel this way as briefly as possible.

But yeah, I just get along better with autistic people and they make me feel more at ease. When I explained this, one of the people on the discord server told me that’s ableist and fetishisizing. Keep in mind, I talked about it in a very innocent way.

I tried to explain that I’ve mostly only had positive experiences with autistic partners, because they didn’t treat me like a demon for having bpd and actually took the time to educate themselves about it and how to help me out when I need it. And I did the same for them in return. It was always a very loving and supportive relationship. Plus, I usually serve as the sarcasm translator for my friends and partner (I don’t have one atm), which I really enjoy doing.

The discord person said it just sounds weird and belittling, which was not my intention at all. Also, they’re not autistic either. Most of my autistic friends that I’ve talked about this with just agreed and told me it’s perfectly understandable.

But it’s still bothering me, so I just wanted to ask some other people. Just to get a feel for how this sort of statement comes across to others. I’d also love to hear from autistic people!

(please don’t try to diagnose me with autism, I’ve gone through multiple tests and it’s very clear that I’m not on the spectrum)

tl;dr - I, an allistic guy, said I prefer autistic partners because it’s more comfortable for me and another allistic person said it’s weird and ableist.

So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[stardust-sunset]

Good morning friend I hope you’re having a good day so far! If you have any may I pls request either some Sodapop hcs or Curtis brother hurt/comfort hcs? It’s that kind of day for me 😔 I hope you have a wonderful day ❤️🎞️

aw, thanks!! I’d be more than happy to! 💛

Sodapop headcanons:

He’s absolutely terrified of bugs. He punched a hole in the wall because he saw a spider (Darry was livid)

He is not a picky eater at all. He will eat food that’s been dropped on the floor. He doesn’t give a shit.

Him and Steve steal snacks from the gas station all the time and just go into the back closet and gorge themselves

Soda is either a laughably awful singer or he has a beautiful voice. No in betweens

He walks around his house shirtless constantly like he’s gods giving gift (he kinda is but Pony and Darry get tired of it)

If you think he’s a bad cuddler when he’s awake just wait until he’s asleep. You’re not getting out of his grasp once he’s asleep. Don’t even try. You’re stuck in bed for the night.

He gets hella bloated after eating and he’s mortified by it

He’s loved the song Rockin’ Robin. I dunno why.

He loves listening to music because it helps him focus on smaller things but then he gets distracted

He hates that his eyes are brown and constantly wishes they were blue

He has ADHD

He never touches a drop of alcohol not because he’s scared or anything but because he despises the way it burns his throat

He’s undefeated in burping competitions aside from Johnny (he can be kinda gross ngl)

Sometimes in the midst of a crisis he’ll just drop an absolute pearl of wisdom and then wonders why everyone stares at him like he has two heads

He believes in ghosts and swears he saw his parents’ ghosts once

He’s a lot more affected by the death of his parents than he lets on

He has the fluffiest hair ever when it isn’t greased back. Him and Pony. Darry has courser hair

He’s a whiny bitch when he’s hungry and doesn’t shut up about how full he is when he’s eaten

He unironically says the corniest shit like “uh oh spaghettios’ and “i need to catch some z’s” and shit like that

He enjoys when Pony reads to him even though he doesn’t pay much attention which frustrates Pony a bit lmao

He prefers to cuddle with Pony over Darry because he says Darry’s chest is “too hard and muscular to be comfortable” which insulted both Pony and Darry to an extent

He is the best pillow in the world. He has the softest tummy you could ever imagine (also the loudest though unfortunately)

His insults are actually really creative and nobody expects it from him

He will put eat a steakhouse in a matter of minutes if you set him down and told him to go crazy

We all know he has a skincare routine (or he would if they could afford that shit)

Sometimes he feels like he’s the glue of the three brothers and if he takes a wrong step they’re all gonna fall apart

He gets a golden retriever when he’s moved out and definitely names it Pepsi-Cola or something

Hurt/Comfort:

You can absolutely tell when Pony is upset. He does NOT have. sooner face lmao

He prefers to be reassured by his brothers over anything else because it’s easier for him to gauge that they actually mean what they say

Boy is a stress eater-one time Darey came home and Pony had eaten an entire cake by himself and was absolutely miserable

He usually tends to gorge himself in meals but when he’s anxious it’s hella different

All three Curtis brothers are stress eaters ngl but Soda is by far the worst

Pony doesnt sleep when he’s anxious. He just sits there awake with his thoughts

He has VIOLENT panic attacks-if you try to touch him and you aren’t a member of the gang have fun with that broken nose of yours

He doesn’t mean it but he will scream at you to not touch him if you go to

Pony is a pretty crier but his panic attacks tend to get ugly

He tends to hit himself when he gets anxious too :( Darry has had to restrain him on more than one occasion because he was seriously scared Pony would hurt himself

The aftermath is a bunch of sniffles and hiccups. He doesn’t talk much before or after a panic attack and it takes effort to get him to open up bai ut what’s wrong

Absolutely will not cry in public. No matter of it’s late at night and he’s alone or not. He’s too scared someone will come by and he wants to look tuff

Darry will hold him while Soda massages his belly to ease his anxious tummy (or to help him digest the morbid amount of food he eats when stressed) and they’ll either address what’s wrong or they’ll distract Pony by talking about something they know he likes

Soda is the same way tbh but it’s because he thinks he shouldn’t be allowed to cry

You can always tell when Soda is upset because he doesn’t eat (canon in the book) and he’s also and normally quiet

He locks himself in his room when he’s upset because he doesn’t wanna burden Darry and he thinks because Pony os his little brother he isn’t allowed to be comforted by him

He had many breakdowns over Sandy and lashed out a lot after because he really loved her and he was furious with her and himself

He kind of shuts down and will just stare ahead at nothing when he’s upset and it’s more unsettling because he’s not moving. He’s not playing with his fingers or bouncing his leg. He just looks completely out of it as he sits still

He gets headaches a lot when he’s anxious and will usually turn in early and that’s even more unusual since he’s a night owl and usually restless at night

But all it takes is a hug and he breaks down completely

Darry came home from work once and literally just hugged Soda as a greeting and Soda started bawling into his chest

He mumbles a lot when he cries too, it’s kinda sad

It doesn’t take long to calm him down-a cuddle session from his brothers is all he needs before he’s satisfied again

As soon as he’s done crying he’s just like “can we have dinner now”

Darry is really stoic when he’s upset

You can always tell because his eyes get a lot colder and harder when something is bothering him

He always denies anything being wrong because he’s supposed to be strong and stable but Pony and Soda constantly asking him gets him to explode

Hes just like “YOU WANNA KNOW WHATS WRONG?!” and then goes into a rant about everything that happened

Pony and Soda just learned to listen because Darry doesn’t exactly want reassurance all the time, he just wants to vent

He paces a lot when he’s ranting too and uses his hands an awful lot to talk

If something is REALLY bad they can kinda tell he may need a good cry because his voice constantly cracks and he swallows a lot more and small thing like that

Pony and Soda work with him post book to just have a good cry every once in a while because it doesn’t mean he’s any less than, it just means he needs to let it out sometimes

Soda always gives him back rubs after because the tension from the anxiety gets to him. Pony just talks to him because Pony has a way with words

All three of them enjoy cuddling though and when one is upset, the other two are absolutely making a cuddle puddle where the anxious one is in the middle and the other two just hold onto the person in the middle

WOOF-that was longer than I meant haha/I hope these are good!

[fleurriee]

— earth and sea ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; since meeting neteyam, you had found yourself making a new friend you were comfortable around. or maybe he was starting to become more than a friend....?

word count ; 5k

themes ; fluff, tiny bit of angst

warnings ; mentions of anxiety & feeling scared of interactions (me), small dosage of reader not feeling good enough for certain things/neteyam…

author's note ; is this going too fast? a part of me feels like it is, but then the other part of me doesn’t care bc i found these two absolutely adorable & want nothing more than to just shower them in the love they deserve?? they’re soulmates, what else was i supposed to do, hmm?? also, i like to think that whilst na’vi do court their mates, they’re quite quick with it, like they just want to be mated and start a family, is this just me or i’m i thinking too much on this?? anyway, i really hope u enjoy this chapter bc it’s adorable and fluffy and ughggghhh!! apologies it took so long <33

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day and night series masterlist main masterlist   request a fic!

In the short span of time that had passed between that first day when the Sully family arrived in your home, seeking uturu and pleading for the safety of their lives, your life had slowly began to change.

Because, in all that time, Neteyam Sully, the eldest son of the two new outsiders, had been nothing but kind to you.

The conversation you’d had that one time with him, when teaching the other Sully’s how to properly travel within the waters, had clearly sent him some messages you weren’t aware of. Since then, he’d sought you out more, wanting to be a part of your company and slowly chip away the walls you’d built for protection against your own fragile heart all those years ago. You guess you should’ve known this would be happening - he did ask whether or not there was a chance you’d get along with him - and, now, he was doing everything to ensure that you did.

Neteyam picked up on your shy mannerisms, too, during this time, realising that compared to the rest of the clan he’d met, you weren’t exactly the most confident one out there. It was difficult for you to do or say or go through certain things than it was for others, but, he understood that. He understood that because he was never overbearing to you, never putting you under any pressure in anything in particular, never forcing you to do anything you didn’t want to do.

And, slowly but surely, he was right. You were beginning to get along with someone like Neteyam Sully. This boy - someone who you shouldn’t have gotten along with in the first place simply because of your stark differences, someone who you should’ve stayed away from because everywhere he went, danger followed his family - made you feel nervous. But, it wasn’t the normal feeling of nerves that would settle at the bottom of your stomach, festering and rotting themselves whole until you wanted nothing more than to claw them out. No, these nerves felt like beautiful butterflies swarming gracefully within you, ones you were slowly beginning to enjoy and seek out more of.

They made you feel more alive, and so did he.

Of course, you couldn’t have been going through all of this, basking in the territory of the unknown, without Tsireya being there and knowing about it, too. You hadn’t told her too much, not wanting to overshare, but, you’d made sure to tell her enough that you could go to her should you have the sudden need to rant or ask any confusing questions. It also wouldn’t be Tsireya if she didn’t slightly tease you whenever you were alone with Neteyam (which, actually, happened to be more times than you’d come to realise…), loving the idea of her lifelong friend slowly beginning to poke her head out of her safety blanket of a shell and become the person she really was for all to see.

As your best friend, she loved seeing you comfortable in places or circumstances you never thought you would’ve been in. Clearly, Neteyam was a good influence on you, and she was entirely too happy that the two of you had met.

But, even with the time of meeting them having passed by in a sudden blur to you, it clearly wasn’t going as fast to the rest of the world, the Sully’s included. The younger of the lot were still continuing to struggle with fully taming their ilu’s, despite the several times you all had tried teaching them. Some had it better than others (mainly the girl’s, but you weren’t surprised there), but there were still moments where even they couldn’t get it down to perfection, not to the point it needed to be at if they wanted to live within Awa’atlu.

After much deliberation, yourself and the others decided the cause of their struggles was due their breathing techniques and not being able to hold it as good as it needed to be. So, Tsireya exclaimed that it would be better to attempt to tackle that problem first. That way, they might improve in other aspects, too, arranging a day for the group of you to focus on that particular area.

Sat in a circle, legs crossed over as each of you faced one another, you showed them the correct way they should be controlling themselves within the depths of the waters. Tuk was situated in front of you, allowing you to help instruct her like you’d requested - she was a delight to teach, and you wished to continue to do so throughout her entire Metkayina training - and you were in between both Tsireya and Neteyam, a situation that fell into place subconsciously without either of you fully realising it.

Tsireya’s calming words spoke comfort over those learning, guiding them in the right direction as they each watched on in earnest, wanting to best at something they weren’t expected to all those years ago in their home. You watched with tender eyes as Tuk’s own never left the girl, doing her best to replicate her movements. Leaning forwards, you held your palm against the youngest girl’s stomach, delicately pushing it further and allowing her to even herself out as she held her breath. Even when doing so, wavering on, she sent you a small, slightly giddy smile of appreciation. It was clear she was getting the hang of it.

However, someone who wasn’t getting the hang of it like his youngest sister was the eldest one to your right. You noticed in your peripheral vision that he wasn’t doing it correctly, the way you’d been showing him, as he stuttered on his breathing and struggled to calm himself down when he felt it leave his lungs.

There was a moment of hesitation that filtered through your veins as you thought your options over, knowing what you needed to do - not only to help aid Neteyam in his exercises, but to also push yourself that little bit further. You were doing so well, especially with Neteyam, and you didn’t want things to end with him.

So, with one last lingering look around the rest of the group and taking note that each of them were focusing on their own breathing or guiding someone else, you turned a little in Neteyam’s direction, patting gently atop his arm. In an instant, he’s stopping, looking over and down at you expectantly, and you immediately feel the butterflies make their home within your stomach once more - how could they not, when his eyes only filter in your own, so intense and eager?

You watch as he leans subconsciously closer down to you, making sure that he would be able to hear every quiet word you uttered to him. This was a move that had happened recently, but one that made you feel seen. Because, Neteyam knew that you struggled with words sometimes, and when you finally gained the courage to say something, it wasn’t always the loudest. But, still, he wanted to hear every word you had to offer, and he wasn’t going to miss anything you said to him.

This time, however, you struggled to say anything, staying silent, instead. You found that the words you wished to speak, the question you wanted to ask him, was getting stuck in the back of your throat, something that happens more times than you’d like to admit. And, you hated it when this happened, because it made you look so stupid. How could someone struggle asking a simple question, when it was the easiest thing in the world?

In an instant, it’s as though your mood suddenly deflated, and you feel terrible about yourself. Your eyes gaze upon the floor, too scared to look the boy in front of you in the eyes and show him your vulnerability, despite knowing he’d understand - after all, he’d seen you go through this before.

And, when you feel one of the most gentlest taps against the top of your knee, knowing already that it had come from him, you slowly realise that you don’t need to hide from him, because in some way, he’s like Tsireya. He’s someone you can trust wholeheartedly without any worry of being judged or belittled… the only difference is there are other feelings lingering there with the Omatikaya boy, ones you’re still too scared to admit.

When you make eye contact with him again, there’s already such a soft look upon his features, the sunlight painting him in an ethereal light as he smiles reassuringly down at you. Those butterflies are back again, almost like they’d never left, and just one looked shared between the two of you had your spirits lifted once more.

You don’t think about the words you couldn’t speak anymore, simply refusing to acknowledge them and let your mood decrease again, instead pointing downwards, motioning to his stomach and looking back up at him in waiting.

It was obvious he was confused, just by the look of him - from the way his brows furrowed, questions lingering behind his gaze, and his mouth turned, trying to think of all the things you could’ve meant. So, you push your palm flat against your own stomach to help line your breathing, before motioning back over to him.

There’s a small oh that escapes his lips upon the realisation, a blush forming on his cheeks as with a giddy smile and sheepishly nodding. He gives you the space to move, watching as you hesitantly bring your hand close to him, before pushing your palm against his stomach. This is the closest the two of you have been to one another, accepting the boundaries between the two of you and never touching the other in such an intimate way.

It’s obvious the move has its affects towards the both of you, as you feel Neteyam’s breathing begin to stutter upon the contact, shaky exhales falling from his lips. There’s no doubt a darkness to your cheeks, too, as you feel everything within you begin to heat up, and you’re not quite sure how you’re supposed to react to all of this, ensuring to keep your gaze locked on your hand to further any embarrassment that might occur. Neteyam, however, simply cannot take his gaze away from your face, basking in each of your features and willing them to imprint themselves within his mind, not wanting to forget a single detail about you. You’re so ethereal to him, so beautiful and enchanting that the thought alone causes his ears to flutter and his tail to smack gently against the ground in a small burst of excitement.

His trance within your presence helps calm his breathing, and when you feel that, along with the soft patter of his tail against the sand, you bring your hand back to your person. There’s a proud smile already lingering upon your lips, happy that you had managed to help teach him something, but also happy for him having gotten better at something, too, that when you look up, only to find him already intensely gaze at you, everything falters within you. It feels as though your heart had just skipped a beat, as though your smile faltered and became a little shaky, and all that was on your mind was him.

He has gazing at you in such an intimate way even when you weren’t concentrating, when you were paying any attention… imagine how he’d look if the two of you ever had something more.

You’re only broken from your thoughts, the staring contest between the two of you not faltering, when you’re brought back to reality when he speaks up. “Thank you,” he says, breathlessly, almost as though he’s in some type of trance, words strangely quiet.

Collecting yourself to the best of your ability, you smile up at him slightly shakily, nodding, struggling to form any words due to a mixture of being out of your comfort zone and basking in the way this boy was looking at you, hoping your actions conveyed the words you wished you could say.

In that moment, too, you realised how close the two of you had gotten, your faces so close to one another, like any moment now, something else could’ve happened.

And, something might’ve done, but you would never know when suddenly, everything filters back into the front of your mind as to where you are and who you’re with. The sound of chuckles made their way to your ears, the once Neteyam-filled trance dissipating and focusing instead on those around you. Your head snaps in the direction of the laughter only to find Rotxo and Lo’ak giggling to themselves as they looked on at you two; Kiri and Ao’nung were rolling their eyes and grumbling under their breaths; Tsireya was trying to keep her ever-growing smile hidden behind her hand, and Tuk was none-the-wiser, too busy concentrating still on her breathing exercises.

“Oh, shut up,” Neteyam groans, speaking up before you can even attempt to hide away. He shoves the top of his younger brother’s head, before Lo’ak pushes him back. Before you know it, they’re shoving one another teasingly, in a way you know brothers do after, having seen ‘fights’ like this beforehand.

You find yourself laughing softly at their antics, watching as they push and shove at one another before they’re both on the ground, and your eyes subconsciously travel over to Tsireya like they always do, like they always wish to seek her out, just for one small moment of comfort. She throws a knowing look your way, one that has your cheeks heating up again, but then her smile turns gentle and tender, reassuring - after all, at the beginning of all of this, Tsireya was the one who had said that this could be good for you, and now look at where you were. Sure, things were still going to be difficult for you - you had no doubt they always would be - but, already, you were doing things you never thought you’d be able to do just months ago.

Looking back over at Neteyam as he had his little brother pinned against the ground, demanding jokingly that he apologise to him for whatever reason you didn’t know, you realised that you were slowly starting to believe that Tsireya was right.

Only a few days had passed since that moment shared between yourself and Neteyam, but somehow, it had felt like longer. In that time, you hadn’t had the opportunity to see him again - your clan were planning a small celebration together (although, they were never small when it came to the Metkayina, so you knew exactly what to expect), and your time had been taken up by helping them prepare.

A small part of you was just slightly grateful that you hadn’t been able to see him yet, mainly because you needed to get yourself together, and truly understand what you were feeling. You had an inkling, but it wasn’t like you’d felt something like this before, and you didn’t really know what to do with it.

Tsireya had obviously been a huge help, and she’d told the truth, one you knew was inevitable. You’d been thinking the same thing, and maybe you were just too scared to admit it. But, when Tsireya said what even she knew to be true, it was like everything fell into place and some things began to make sense.

Neteyam began to make sense.

So, begrudgingly, that’s why you find yourself willingly turning up to the clan get-together, secretly telling yourself that it wasn’t really because you wanted to just catch a simple glimpse of him, but because you helped set this up. Even you couldn’t convince yourself that well.

The entire front was alive the moment eclipse had fallen towards the ground, setting the atmosphere alight with so many different spirits. There were several tables aligned along the edge, a variety of foods you swore you couldn’t even name they were so exotic, the hunters having gone out extra early to collect so much; a group of Na’vi were at the front, swaying to the music they were creating and lighting everything up with their melodic voices, creating an aroma of peace and tranquillity.

Everyone you had ever come to see in your short life was present, either dancing along with the music or chatting away their day with a friend or their families. So much noise was filtering in through your ears, you could barely hear yourself think.

Things like this were never your thing, simply because of the amount of people in one area and how loud it could get - when you enjoyed listening to the soft sounds of nature on your own, you were never going to get along with an environment like this. But, like you’d told yourself, you had helped put this together, and it only felt right to watch as others enjoyed themselves in their element, basking in the feeling of the family of Metkayina coming together as one… definitely not for Neteyam…

Arms crossed over your chest like a protective mechanism, shielding yourself away from anything that made you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you stayed towards the edge, not wanting to get mixed up in the thick of the crowd, knowing that would only be your worst nightmare. Your eyes flickered from one set of people to another, searching for your best friend, only to quickly find her close to Lo’ak, the two of them sitting side by side, smiles bright and achingly adorable. Hoping to talk to Tsireya, you let this one time go, knowing she was enjoying herself with someone she really cared for, especially after the talk the two of you had no too long ago where she admitted to finding him attractive.

So, you left the two of them to it, staying in your hidden place at the back, too scared to venture any further. Allowing the sounds of wonder, awe, and bliss reach your ears and satiate a part of you inside that warms at the idea of happiness, you’re too focused somewhere else to realise there’s someone coming up behind you. “Not a party person?” they question, their voice unintentionally startling you.

Your head turns around quickly, wanting to get to the source of the scare as soon as possible, only to find the other person you’d been hoping to find - Neteyam. He hadn’t changed much for the get-together - some people like to go extra and all the way, dressing up in their most fanciest clothing just to show themselves off, but, Neteyam stuck to his roots, his usual clothes adorning his muscled skin, the same ones he ritually kept from his home in the forest.

You liked him that way.

With a calming sigh, one to rest your suddenly beating heart, you turn your attention back to the rest of the clan in front of you. “Not really,” you reply, shrugging.

“Yeah, me neither.” Neteyam laughs nonchalantly, slowly taking steps to walk up beside you. You can’t resist the small smile that begins to curve up your lips at his attempt to start a conversation with you.

Silence envelops the two of you, something that seems to happen more often than not, but you can’t find yourself dreading it. No, you’re basking in it - in everything around you. There’s such a loving atmosphere filtering in around you, from the clan, the people, from Neteyam. Just being in his presence alone seems to make you the happiest you’ve been, and you realise there’s nothing you won’t do to continue chasing that feeling.

But, whilst you soak up in the silence, the Na’vi next to you can’t seem to take it anymore. “Look,” he started, moving forwards so he’s standing directly in front of you, capturing your whole attention. Now your eyes are on him, you notice he’s looking a little nervous - his hands are fidgeting, fingers wringing and his eyes are flickering between each of your own, like they’re not sure what they should really be doing. He takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself, and you find yourself leeching onto that nervousness of his and taking some of it as your own. “I know that this might be a bit out-of-nowhere - or maybe it isn’t… I kind of hope it isn’t - but I… like you, like… really like you. And, I was hoping maybe we could try…” he gestures between the two of you, his words so unbelievably soft and scared, “…this?” Your eyes have widened automatically, in complete disbelief at what he’s just admitted and asked you. “But, only if you want to,” he quickly adds on, not wanting you to feel any type of pressure. “You know, I don't want to make you uncomfortable in anyway." There’s a small laugh at the end of his rambling, one that’s hesitant and hopefully understanding.

His words course and filter their way inside your mind as it begins to cloud over with so many different, lingering thoughts. You’re not quite sure what to focus on first, because you’ve never done this before, and you’ve never really prepared for it. Sure, you knew one day there would come a time where you’d have to choose a mate and go through the whole process of courting, but you’d never spoken about it in much detail with your mother. So, now that something similar was happening before your very eyes - with Neteyam, nonetheless, someone you had come to treasure hardheartedly within you - you didn’t know where to start.

The butterflies swarming in your stomach had come back, crediting to this entire situation. Thinking on it, you knew since the moment you’d first laid eyes on him, you had found Neteyam Sully attractive - how could you not? - but, not once did you ever believe he could think of you in the same way, and especially not enough to tell you that he wanted to try the two of you out together. None of this made sense - you weren’t good enough for Toruk Makto’s eldest son; you weren’t good enough for someone who was supposed to be an Olo’eyktan back in his home.

But, despite thinking these things, that didn’t mean you didn’t want him in the same way. Your negative thoughts were trying to put you down, attempting to steer you in the opposite direction and away from a beautiful opportunity presented in front of your very eyes, one that could blossom into something ethereal and unique if you didn’t give it a try. In your fight against yourself, you look down at the ground, swallowing deeply as you think over your next words. You need this time to truly understand what could happen next with whatever words come out of your mouth, you calm your racing nerves and steady your rapid heart - because, you wanted to this, too. You just had to learn to counter yourself against those pessimistic thoughts.

Looking back up at him, you smile warmly - it’s shaky and scared, but, it’s warm, nonetheless, something he picks up on. “You do not make me uncomfortable, Neteyam.”

A breathy, hesitant laugh escapes his lips, like he’d been scared of overwhelming you and somehow managing to push your further away than he ever wanted you to be. “Good, good.”

There’s more silence that surrounds you, except this time, neither one of you are feeling anything else other than one another. Your eyes pierce into each other’s, your intense gazes never straying away. You will yourself to hold this contact with him, wanting to feel even just a smidge of confidence when you admit your next words. “I would… like to try it, too.”

A small, shy smile accompanied your words, and when he saw that, along with his mind processing your wonderful words, the tension once residing in his taut shoulders dissipates, and a smile radiates upon his features, becoming wider and showing his fangs on display within his excitement. Just at the sight of his happiness from your words somehow quickens your heart from within its cage, continuing to wonder how someone as beautiful as Neteyam could hold such feelings towards you.

Almost like he knew where your mind was spiralling towards, he takes it away from you, licking his lips in concentration and taking a step that continues to scare him, despite knowing you were beginning to feel the same way. Wiping his hands together out of nerves, he brings one of them up towards you, palm facing up as he gestures for you to take it. “Would you like to dance?”

It’s only when he’s asked you that particular question that you realise the women’s singing have slowed down, a much softer, gentler tone emanating from their voices. You look in the near distance behind Neteyam, watching as couples dance sensually to the melodic sound with their partners, pressed up against one another as they show off their love to everyone else.

Neteyam notices your change in expression immediately, watching it fall as the prospect of dancing in front of others - to such an intimate-sounding song, too - has your nerves beginning to spike. Wanting to reassure you as quickly as possible, hating the sight of you so worried and distressed as it pierces his heart painfully, he moves himself directly into your line of sight again, not allowing you to look at the others anymore. Still, he hand continues to wait for you. “We don’t have to go over there,” he shook his head, wanting you to feel reassured by him alone, “we can dance here, or somewhere a little more private.”

With your heart evident in your gaze, watching him and only him, appreciation fills within your system to him. Since first meeting him, Neteyam has understood your boundaries on the same wave length as Tsireya always has, allowing you to put up walls and tending to your needs to willingly, so lovingly. This was all even before he slowly started to fall in love with you, and now that he had you, he was only going to be the perfect gentleman for you that he always has been.

A sheepish smile plasters upon your lips, and you nod up at him, your shaky hand taking his and holding on tightly, his life force aiding to calm you down. He turns his head to look at the clan, just checking up on something quickly, before gesturing the two of you in the opposite direction and leading you further into the trees.

It’s even more secluded now that you’re blanketed from the trees, darker and much more hidden away, but not an inkling of you feels scared that you’re here with only one other person, because it was Neteyam, and you know you never have to feel scared around him.

Your hand is still tight within his grasp, and you were close to letting go of him, expecting to start engaging in a dance you’re used to having watched growing up - one that was original to your clan, or maybe even his, one slightly less intimate and more fun - but, he doesn’t let you pull away. Instead, he keeps your hands clasped together, placing his other one gently against the back of your waist and slowly pulling you closer, repeatedly watching every expression you make to ensure that you’re always comfortable.

Now that he’s in position, he chuckles softly at the confusion warping your features. “This is how they dance on the star where my father is from,” he explains, watching as you slowly nod in understanding. Still, it doesn’t feel right to you, mainly because whilst Neteyam’s hands are where they should be, you still have one of your own hanging limply at your side, unsure what to do with it. Thankfully, upon noticing this, Neteyam unwraps his one from around your waist and guides yours up and around his shoulders, before returning once more to its place. “Is this okay?” he asks you softly. “Are you comfortable?

His questions that you can tell are truthful and sincere have the awkwardness you were previously feeling disappear, feeling as he gradually starts to sway the two of you side to side, the Metkayina music faintly beating in the background, quiet in an atmosphere such as this one. You find that you can no longer shy your gaze away from him. “Yes,” you reply, so soft and delicate that it has his heart fluttering, “this is perfect.”

Somehow, his smile grows wider at your words, elation coursing through your veins, feeling one of the happiest times he’s ever had the pleasure of being in. His feet continue to gentle guide the two of you in this sky-person dance, the warmth emanating from his presence alone slowly calming your once racing heart and allowing you to succumb to him entirely. Subconsciously, your head falls to lay against his chest, his rhythmic heartbeat echoing within your ears like a mantra, wishing it was all you could hear for the rest of your life.

As he lays his chin atop your head, pulling you in impossibly closer and thanking the Great Mother for allowing him to feel something so special - let alone, allowing him to take this in the palm of both his hands and call it his own now that he knew you felt for him the same - Neteyam thinks back on the moment he’d been told they were moving to a different clan for their safety, back to the moment he’d first arrived at such a startlingly different place. He remembers wishing he could go home, wanting to feel the presence of familiarity through his person again. But, he also remembers that his father had once told him that home isn’t always necessarily a place… it can be a person, too.

And, for the first time since arriving in your home, in Awa’atlu, wrapped up in your embrace, Neteyam found himself not missing the forest as much as he used to.

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[thewayuarent]

Boston and Ray deserve each other

In a very positive way

I have a theory that if we’ll think about this friend group in a long-term perspective, Boston and Ray have the best chances to keep their relationship and grow up to an actual friendship. Let me explain.

Boston and Ray, while being very different, have a lot of common traits. And what differ them from the other two in this friend group, is that both Ton and Ray are people who constantly judged by their surroundings (and society) for their behavior - Boston is a slut, which is bad for some reason, and Ray is a suicidal alcoholic, which makes him a burden in everyone’s eyes.

And that makes them outcasts from their perfect, level-headed, proper friends Mew and Cheum (seriously fuck them both I’m so sorry I tried my best). So I believe they have at least some level of mutual understanding. It’s not coincidence that Boston was the one who was responsible for taking drunk Ray home. It’s not coincidence that Ray was the one who listened about all Boston’s who’s and how’s. They may not be very much supportive of each other, but they know they don’t have a right to judge the other also.

The thing with these two, in my opinion, is that while they don’t necessarily judge other’s behavior, they know very well what’s other weak spots are. And they know how and when bring it to the table. Boston outed Ray in frond of Sand? Ray does the same shit with Boston in frond of Nick! Do I believe that Ray actually judges Boston for his sex adventures? No. But I know, and Ray knows, how it will look like in other’s eyes.

And don’t get me wrong, those two love seeing each other miserable. Boston fucked up Ray’s attempt to get a new start with Sand just because he was feeling like this. Because Ray in his eyes is, well, pathetic with his whole being in love with Mew situation. And did my boy enjoyed it.

Same way Ray is very much enjoys the view of Boston being screamed at by Cheum. He’s absolutely having fun.

But. But they still have a level they won’t step over. The bar is very low, but it’s here.

Because when Ray is on his lowest point, crushed by cops while Cheum screams at him (about the same thing Boston previously laughed at), Boston doesn’t have fun anymore.

Because when Cheum (why is it always her) tells Boston he’s cut off his friends and the project that will cost him his future, Ray doesn’t have fun anymore.

They don’t do anything to help or support each other, obviously, but they are worried. Cheum is angry, Mew is either black out or having the best time of his life, but those two are actually concerned. And I know it’s not much, and it’s absolutely not what you expect from friends, but this is Boston and Ray we’re talking about.

Both of them, very differently, have no idea how to love properly. Because both of them have no idea how to be loved either. They both know their roles - a slut or a burden - they know how people see them and they are used to it. This is why we get constant parallels between BostonNick and SandRay dynamics.

Because when was the last time someone - including themselves - saw them as something more than a number of dirty toxic unhealthy traits?

When was the last time anyone appreciated how talented of a photographer Boston is?

When was the last time anyone told Ray he has good taste in music?

Was anyone there before to not just love them, cause sometimes it’s the easiest part, but to see them, forgive them, be there for them again, and again, and again?

I honestly don’t think so.

And yes, for now they are absolutely not there, but I do believe that they will grow - they’re doing it already. They will learn how to care about others the same way they will learn to accept someone’s love and care.

And for now it’s Nick and Sand, but - baby steps - while they’ll continue their journeys, they will learn to give it for other people. And I would bet on them finding each other again. In a way more healthier place.