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#But told him anyway. And then touched on the topic that i... Do things... Without thinking about it in the moment
mrfoox · 1 year
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Uh.... Kinda brought up an topic which was tough but it was okay....?
#miranda talking shit#As usual i never said all i thought bc i always have so much on my mind#But ... Basically mentioned that people but is the recent case oliver can feel like hes too careful with me#So ofc he clarified that he doesnt and just generally liked to be nice and not rude and i buy that but kept on saying#That people in my past also have thought i am more fragile and maybe proper than i actually am#And that im a very uncomplicated person when it comes to some things. For example how i feel about other people#They can tell me and do anything and that wont make me suddenly dislike them or drop them. If i like a person already#... Theres a point where i do not care what else they have done or do? At least ive not encountered anything that have changed it for me#Ive never met someone who killed someone or something but... Who have opinions or have done things or do things which i dont care about#For example drugs. I havent tried anything and probably wont but i know multiple who have or are using and that doesnt make me... Think#Less of them? So. I explained that and said that he had never said something to me that has hurt me or something. Or then i brought up#The incident a few weeks ago and said that time i got hurt. But then i cried for an hour and realized he probably said what he said#Bc he was scared and worried. And it wasnt about me at all. So then i was just ... Fine. I wasnt planning to say anything about that even#But told him anyway. And then touched on the topic that i... Do things... Without thinking about it in the moment#And then realize afterwards its somewhat intentional? And its not something i like to say bc i feel like a bad person?#We didn't discuss that much bc he had to go so idk if ill even bring that up again unless the topic is close but yeah.#He said it was a good talk and i agree. Im always worried to share anything i think or how i work with people bc i fear they'll think im#Weird. But i did it and he seemed fine and i was stable enough. I think he wont care and thats what i like about him but also#I know bc we are so different... It's more likely we misunderstand each other. And honestly i cant shake the feeling i scare him a bit#Bc i feel so much and i want to talk about everything. Thats why i somewhat hesitate to say some things#He also said he have a history of. Dropping people or having his opinion of someone shift bc of something. Thus then it make sense#He got freaked out by me that time. Bc he thinks in his terms and for him others can be changed by small incidents so he thought i had#Changed mine. Thus the 'ive ruined it. I ruined our relationship and it was so good' It should scare me more that he said that his opinion#Of others can change so quickly and big. Bc... Im anxious but for some reason i.. Dont feel worried about that? Maybe bc i have always had#The mindset that people will leave me in the end no matter what and that i always care more about someone than they me. So i dont expect#Anything of anyone i like... But today was interesting talk tbh. I love discussing things with him. He's so different from me it's fresh#Possibly my autistic ass being hyperfocused on him and intrested bc of that. This is kinda how i was with Fabian at some point#He felt like an interesting individual bc he was so different from me so i was obsessed with talking with him about things#I enjoy it and i wont share how i think so i dont scare anyone so.... Should be okay
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thevoidstaredback · 25 days
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Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant
Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.
So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.
Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.
Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.
At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.
Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.
Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.
The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.
The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)
Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!
Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!
"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.
Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."
"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."
"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."
"Excuse me?"
"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.
"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."
"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?
"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.
"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."
"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"
Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."
"Excuses."
"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."
"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."
"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."
"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."
"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."
Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.
The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.
Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."
Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."
Part 2
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 26 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: No matter what Bradley did, you seemed frustrated with him. You needed a new car, but you needed to start communicating with him even more. He was scrambling to try to fix everything, but it was hard when you could barely stay awake for a conversation.
Warnings: Swearing, drinking, pregnancy topics, angst
Length: 5900 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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When nearly a week had gone by, and you still wouldn't focus on picking out a new car for yourself, Bradley was starting to get frustrated. Sharing the Bronco with you wasn't a big deal. You respected it and treated it well, but he had to play nice when you wanted to use it to go to brunch on Sunday with Cam and Maria at the same time he wanted to play golf.
"Can't Jake pick you up?" you asked him with an annoyed sigh. "I'll text him and ask if he can come get you."
"Why can't Cam or Maria pick you up?" he asked, feeling kind of fucking fed up with you at the moment. 
"Fine," you replied, an eerily calm expression taking over your face. "I'll have one of them pick me up for brunch in the morning. Don't worry about it."
You turned on your heel and walked back to the bedroom leaving Bradley raking his fingers through his hair. He had finally started to feel normal again after having your parents at the house for a few days. It's not like they were even loud or inconsiderate, but he just struggled a bit with it anyway. He wasn't used to closing the bedroom door knowing Tramp liked to wander around the house at all hours of the day and night. He liked to take a piss with the bathroom door open, and he liked to randomly reach up under your shirt when you were in the kitchen if you welcomed it. And he just couldn't do any of that with other people in the house, even though it was family. 
"Fuck," he mumbled. It wasn't even a big deal for you to take the Bronco to brunch. Jake or Javy could easily get him on their way to the golf course, and now he needed to go apologize to you. But the bedroom door was closed when he got there, and he immediately felt like he needed to be touching you, because you were literally the only person who could be in his personal space all day long and not usually annoy him in the slightest. 
When he turned the knob, he was relieved to find it wasn't locked. "Baby Girl?" he called out cautiously, and then he found you in the bathroom. "Shit," he whispered, watching you wipe your eyes before turning toward the mirror, but there was no way to hide from him in here. "I'm sorry."
"Could you just leave me alone?" you asked without looking at him.
The words caused him physical pain, because that was the last thing he wanted right now. He'd gotten used to how much better everything was recently, and he was absolutely unwilling to stop communicating with you. "Can we talk about it? About a car? We could buy one tomorrow if you pick one out."
You turned and snapped at him. "Maybe next time just don't fuck up the one I already have!"
He had apologized to you countless times. He'd given your shit car a eulogy. He had offered to buy you any car you found that you wanted, but now he was just as mad as you were. "I just wanted to tell you that you can use the Bronco tomorrow."
"How generous," you replied sarcastically. "But I already told you I'll get a ride from Cam or Maria. Now would you please leave me alone?"
Bradley nodded and retreated back to the living room couch with Tramp, because he didn't know what else to do. He stretched out and decided to look at cars until you resurfaced to make dinner. There were two huge dealerships in San Diego that had the current model year of your old car, and they both had them stocked in several colors with different options available. You could get a new red one with a sunroof and gray interior just like you had before. He'd upgrade the stereo package to make riding in it less painful for him, but he'd buy it right now if you said it's what you wanted. 
As he thought back to the way you dragged your feet about wedding planning, he muttered a string of obscenities. At this rate, he'd be sharing the Bronco with you for a long time. He bookmarked a bunch of new cars, and then he searched all over the country to see if anyone was selling an exact replica of the one he totaled. A few hours later, it occurred to him that you never came back out of the bedroom. He scooped up Tramp where he'd fallen asleep on his chest and carried him back down the hallway. 
You were sound asleep in bed, curled up on your side, breathing softly. Bradley checked the time again. It was only 7:15, but maybe you just needed to rest. He tucked the covers up around your shoulders and kissed your forehead before venturing back out to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich before working out.
------------------------
By the middle of the week, you were aggressively annoyed by everything, but mostly Bradley's voice. On Sunday, Cam picked you up for brunch even though Bradley told you a million times you could use the Bronco. You didn't even want to use the Bronco. He could use it all day long. And then you went back to Cam's place and lounged on his couch until you were starting to get hungry for dinner. If Bradley wondered why you were out for a six hour brunch, he didn't ask. 
But when he eventually called your phone, you asked Cam to drive you home. "Your husband is like a twelve out of ten," he murmured as he drove you. "Don't be mean to him." Then you climbed out of his car onto your driveway and rolled your eyes, because after that he was getting on your nerves, too.
So on Monday and Tuesday, you just avoided Bradley as much as you could at work after driving in with him, but on Wednesday, as he pulled into the parking garage, he cleared his throat. "Hard Deck tonight?"
"You can go," you replied as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "You can take the Bronco, and I'll just stay home." You bit your lip immediately as you said the words, because you felt like crying. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you as tears burned your eyes. The last thing you wanted to do was skip a fun night out. You also didn't know why you couldn't commit to a car. Everything felt like too much the last few days, and you wanted to scream.
"Can we talk about this?" Bradley asked, his voice pleading with you, but you didn't even know what to say. 
"Later," you told him before heading for the building, but he was right behind you, undeterred.
"Don't give me that later bullshit. We've been talking and communicating a lot better, and I absolutely refuse to stop doing either of those things!"
You spun around so fast, he almost collided with you. "I have a meeting with Bickel, okay? About Annapolis. And it starts in twenty minutes. And I'm tired. And I miss my car. And I need to go."
After that, you weren't sure if he followed you or not, because you didn't turn around to check. When you got to your office and opened your computer, you saw the calendar reminder that made more tears cloud your vision. You cradled your forehead in your hand. Saturday was Carole Bradshaw's birthday. 
The fact that you forgot it was coming up was worrying, because you couldn't let work take over your life again like it had in the past. You'd been mentally planning to make another fancy dinner to celebrate her day, the way you had for both of Bradley's parents' birthdays last year. Filet mignon and crab cakes and brownies. 
Fuck. You wanted to sit alone in your office and cry all morning, but now you had four minutes until you had to sit down with your boss. You pulled yourself together the best you could and made your way to talk to Bickel. Cat was there too, and you could feel her intense gaze on you as if she was physically touching you. You knew she could tell something was on your mind, but you sat as calmly as you could and looked through the folder of information that was given to you. 
Bickel folded his hands on his desk and said, "I'm letting the two of you decide how you'd like to present our work in Annapolis. I'm trying to finalize some dates for us, but it's looking like the first week of August. This would add two million dollars to our pending budget for next year, which would give us the opportunity to explore an even more advanced comms system. And it would be a great way for me to push for your promotion, Lieutenant Coleman."
"Yes, Sir," Cat replied immediately. When you were both dismissed, she took you by the arm out in the hallway and whispered, "Please, I need you to focus on this for me. Okay? Why do you look like you're on the verge of tears?"
"I'm having a bad week," you whispered, still unsure why you felt like this. Your fingers were tingling, and you were so anxious, you were about to walk yourself to see Dr. Genevieve. But you hadn't eaten breakfast, and it was almost lunchtime now after Bickel kept you so long. "I need lunch," you told Cat, and she sighed and walked down to the cafeteria with you.
Part of you wanted to see Bradley, but part of you did not. And something about the idea of a burrito bowl was turning your stomach just looking at it. You picked out a sandwich and some soup and found a spot at a table that was completely empty except for Bob. 
"Hi," you said softly, and he looked up from his notebook with a smile as you slid into the seat across from him. 
"Hi," he replied in his sweet voice that immediately made you feel calmer. "I actually was hoping to see you to thank you again. Maria has been really accommodating about me moving in, and this way I don't have to commute into the city every day."
You waved him off as you tried a spoonful of the flavorless soup. "I'm just happy it worked out. For both of you. I didn't want Maria to have some creep move in since she couldn't find anyone else. And obviously you're just lovely, Bob."
He visibly bristled a bit. "No, she shouldn't have to deal with a creepy roommate."
Then Jake dropped down in the seat next to yours and turned to smile as Cat sat on his other side. "Angel. What the hell are you doing to Rooster now?"
"What do you mean?" you asked, looking around, but your husband and Nat were still in line for food. 
"He's fucking miserable today. Cranky as hell. And I know for a fact nothing can set that man off the way you can. It's honestly pretty funny, but he did snap at me three times. It's like dealing with Hondo all over again."
"Sorry," you heard Cat mutter as she ate her lunch.
You gripped your spoon in your hand and took a deep breath, but all you could say was, "I don't know." You truly didn't know what was going on. Your brain was in a constant fog, and you felt so antsy. 
Bradley sat across the table from you, eyeing you carefully from his spot next to Bob. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but you didn't know if it came across that way when he just looked sadder. 
"Who's coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked loudly.
After Jake and Cat agreed to go, you quietly said, "Not me. I have to catch up on some things I was supposed to read, but I'll drop Bradley off for the night."
Your husband shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but Nat was already squeezing his shoulder. "Sounds good," she said, and after that, he sat quietly. 
----------------------------
Bradley flew all afternoon, and it was bad. Just really, very bad. He was distracted, and the fact that Javy had to keep repeating himself was about to earn Bradley a lecture from Maverick if he didn't pull it together. But you were just making him so sad, and he had no idea why you were currently barely able to look at him without crying or yelling. 
He hadn't even done anything. Had he? Yeah, he'd completely destroyed your beloved car, but the visit with your parents had gone pretty well. He hadn't missed any important dates of anniversaries. He'd been keeping up with his chores at home. 
You'd been running a bit hot and cold in the bedroom. He'd never push you for more than you wanted to do, but then perhaps he hadn't been good for you recently? The mere thought had him squirming and sweating in his cockpit as he followed Javy into a dive. Shit. Could that be it? He always got you off. Except that he knew he hadn't in the family bathroom at the Padres game, but you and he had been in a rush. And that night last week when you started yawning while you rode him, he distinctly remembered you saying it didn't matter if you came since you were so tired.
Shit. Things had been going great, he didn't realize what he'd been doing, and now he had to figure out how to fix it when you seemed so disinterested in talking to him. As he brought his jet back down to the tarmac he tried to come up with a plan, but he felt helpless. These were the times he felt like having a mother of his own would come in handy, because he couldn't exactly take this to your mom. 
"Fuck." He wrenched his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair. You were sending him off to the bar alone tonight to get him out of your space, he could tell. So maybe the best thing he could do right now was just follow your lead. 
After he showered and headed for the parking garage, he found you leaning against the side of the Bronco waiting for him. "Hi, Sweetheart," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.
Your quiet response of, "Hi, Roo," made him feel a lot better, and you let him buckle you in, which was great. But then you said, "I'll just drop you off at the bar later and come back for you. I have some things I want to get done."
He nodded. "Sure. Whatever you want." 
Back at home, he was able to coax you onto his lap for dinner at the dining room table, and even though it was a quiet affair, he didn't mind. He just rubbed his hand up and down your back, and eventually you sank back against him even though you'd only had a few bites of food. You were practically asleep on him as he finished eating, but you jolted up when his phone vibrated against your hip.
"It's probably just Nat," he whispered, and you nodded as you checked the time. 
"I'll drop you off whenever you're ready, and I'll come back for you around ten?"
He cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I can help you get caught up with work tomorrow or this weekend. I'm a pretty good helper."
You cracked the tiniest smile as you said, "I'm just not in the mood. You go and drink and have fun, and I'll come back for you."
He kissed your cheek. "I'll be waiting, ready to come home with you whenever you get there."
--------------------------
When Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, you watched him head inside the bar. He was wearing his white and yellow floral print shirt, part of the matching set that he'd bought for the two of you, and he looked so sexy, you were thrumming with need. You were all over the place. A few days ago, the mere sight of him had you ready to climb out the window, and now you were on the verge of chasing him down to fuck you.
"Get a grip. My god," you moaned as you pulled back onto the road. At least now you could go to the store and purchase everything you'd need to make Carole's birthday dinner in peace. 
The store was quiet, which was great, because you didn't currently know if something was about to set you off. You grabbed a cart, and the cool metal against your hands felt nice. A smile found its way to your face as you listened to Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac playing throughout the store and picked out some beautiful looking steaks. Then you found everything for the crab cakes and the brownies, and you got a bottle of expensive champagne. 
You were already feeling better now, almost excited to celebrate the mother-in-law that you'd never had the privilege of meeting. She deserved a special day and a fancy dinner, because even though you didn't know her personally, you were absolutely certain Carole Bradshaw was incredible. The sparkle of your engagement ring caught your eye, and you stood in front of the wine and champagne and sobbed quietly until you felt like you could continue shopping. 
It had to be the combination of work and her birthday and your car that was setting you off. No matter how bad it made you feel, you'd pick out a new car this weekend. You knew there was enough in your savings account for a down payment, so you just had to force yourself to bite the bullet. You'd do it for Bradley and for yourself. 
While you unpacked the groceries, you made a sandwich, finally hungry again after you'd barely been able to eat dinner. But that started to make you too full after just half of it. "Don't tell Daddy," you whispered before feeding it to Tramp. 
Then you sat at the island and read through the folder from Bickel. You had weeks of research and planning ahead of you, but it would be worth it for the grant money. Cat was a solid gold choice as a partner for this, especially since she was motivated by that promotion she wanted. You were excited, but realistically so. You needed to make sure you didn't overdo things this time around. You could rely on Cat as much as yourself, and you knew that now.
When you checked the time on your phone, it was already 10:30. You texted Bradley and let him know you'd be there soon. When you started the Bronco, you got a text back.
Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Can't wait for you to take me home.
You smiled and sang on your way there, already feeling better about having everything for Carole's birthday dinner ready to go. You parked the Bronco and headed inside, twirling Bradley's keyring on your fingers. As soon as you pushed the door open, the wave of noise hit you, and you made a beeline for the pool table. Penny's summer drink specials must have been on point, because the place was packed.
Just when you were trying to squeeze between two massive guys, you caught sight of Bradley just in time to see a woman walk up behind him and tap him on the shoulder. Maybe he thought it was you at first, because he spun to face her with a smile on his face. You got jostled around a little bit as your steps faltered and came to a stop. Bradley was conversing a bit with her now, although his smile was gone, and you watched as she reached up with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged them along his paper airplane tattoo on his bicep.
"Oh, hell no," you gasped, registering that Bradley looked surprised, and not in a good way. But you were frozen to the spot now as disgust, embarrassment and jealousy washed over you. It wasn't like he wasn't wearing his wedding band. He was. How was that not enough? You couldn't decide if you wanted to run away or rip her head off.
Bradley immediately started to back away from her, shaking his head as he went, and then his gaze connected with yours. He mouthed your name, and you could see the concern on his face as you swallowed hard. Instead of running away, you stood there like an idiot when he came rushing in your direction.
"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for your hand, his eyes on yours. 
"Who's your friend?" you asked. Your voice sounded like it belonged to someone else while your throat burned. 
You let him wrap one big hand around your back and pull you closer, holding you there. "No idea. Never saw her before thirty seconds ago."
"I didn't like her touching you."
His eyebrow quirked up as his hand dipped a little lower. "Neither did I. Especially since I got the tattoo for you, Baby Girl."
You had your arms around his neck instantly, the other woman forgotten as you kissed your husband. He tasted like your favorite beer, and you whimpered. But your body felt somehow both too tender and too needy pressed up against him as you said, "It's for me. Mine. Let's go home."
-------------------------
Bradley let you drive since he'd had a fair amount to drink. That fucking woman just about ruined his night by asking him what he was drinking and then touching his arm, feigning interest in his unique tattoo. The past week had already felt like touch and go with you, and he was unwilling to make it worse. He still wasn't quite sure how to get things back to where they had been just a short time ago. 
When you parked in the driveway in the spot where you used to park your car, he almost winced. But you crawled over to his lap and started to unbutton his shirt. "Take me to bed," you told him, rubbing yourself on him through his jeans. 
He grunted in response, carrying you up to the porch and wrestling with his key in the lock as you kissed his neck. Clothing was discarded along the way, and when he got you in the bedroom with the soft lamplight illuminating your skin, he moaned. 
"Jesus Christ, you're a dream."
Truly, your tits had never looked better, and somehow the aroused looking little scowl you were shooting his way was really working him up as you shimmied your jeans down your legs. He was hard when you finally pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top. 
"I love you," he promised as your lips met his, and you sank down around his length. Warm and wet and perfect. Holy shit, you felt incredible as you rolled your hips slowly, his hands settling at your waist. You were velvety smooth everywhere. The only thing he wanted. 
He held your hips in his hands and thrust up into you as his lips met your nipple. You moaned as he licked you, but as soon as he sucked hard, pulling you between his lips, you gasped. So he did it again and again, but your hips stilled and your hands left his shoulders and reached for his cheeks.
"It hurts," you gasped, pushing his face away from your chest. "Stop."
He let his head settle back on the pillow. "Sorry." Tentatively, he brought his hand up to your left breast and gave you a nice squeeze, but you pulled away further. Then you were kneeling next to him with your arms crossed over your chest. "Sorry," he repeated. "But I always touch you that way?"
You burst into tears and said, "It just hurts."
And that was the last thing you said to him for the night as you crawled under the covers. As soon as Bradley got his erection under control by pacing around the bathroom, he walked back to the bed to find you sound asleep.
On Thursday and Friday, you didn't even acknowledge it. When he asked if it was okay if he touched you on Thursday morning, you went willingly into his arms as the toaster popped out your breakfast. And on Friday morning, you let him snuggle with you a little bit before you got out of bed, so at least he was fairly convinced you weren't too mad at him. But he just knew he hadn't been doing enough for you in bed which really pissed him off. 
He was older than everyone else around him seemingly all the time, and now he was feeling insecure about it again. If he could just manage to get you to have a real conversation with him, then he'd try to fix this. But you were busy with work, something else that had a red flag shooting up in the back of his mind. No, he was not going to fuck this all up yet again. You and he had something special, and he was going to demand a conversation. 
--------------------------
You poked at your lunch on Friday as Jake and Bradley argued next to you in the cafeteria. You were barely able to pay attention to them, because you were so tired, and you had another meeting with Bickel in an hour. As far as you could tell, you were getting the flu, which seemed weird for July, but nothing else made sense. 
No matter how much you slept, you were exhausted. Your body was aching, and you were so damn moody. You'd practically accosted Bradley on Wednesday after you picked him up from the bar, but then you fell asleep as soon as you told him your breasts hurt. You felt embarrassed now as you looked at him next to you, because after all of that, you didn't even let him finish that night. 
As you adjusted your shirt, you could have screamed at how tender your nipples were. At least it was Friday. You could catch up on reading for your presentation research, and then you could sleep. 
"Come on, Rooster," Jake complained. "You have to come tomorrow. I'll leave the hard seltzers at home, and Javy and I will behave."
Bradley turned to look at you with big, brown eyes before he told Jake, "No. No golf tomorrow. I have some things I need to take care of." Then he turned back toward you and softly said, "We're talking tomorrow. About a bunch of stuff. Until we are sorted out."
Now you felt guilty as Jake shot you a look. "We can talk tomorrow afternoon, Roo. Go play golf."
"Yeah, Bradshaw," Jake piped up. "Angel said you can do shit with her in the afternoon. So you'll come with Bob, Javy and I? You know Reuben sucks at golf. He's even worse than you."
"Go," you told Bradley, kissing the edge of his mustache before you stood. "Yes, Jake, he will be golfing tomorrow. I plan on sleeping in, and the quiet house will be nice."
Bradley reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he looked up at you. "I love you."
You nodded. "I love you, too. I need to go get ready for a meeting." His eyes were on your body as you walked away, but you needed to focus on work right now. 
It was all you could do to go back to Bickel's office with Cat and not fall asleep in his soft leather chair. Your boss's calm voice and the warm room were almost too much for your senses. You were fighting with yourself to keep your eyes open. Fighting with everything you had to stay engaged. An hour went by and then two, and he was still talking, and so was Cat, and they kept asking you for input. You were clinging to your extensive knowledge on the subject matter and hoping for the best when Bickel's desk phone rang, and he finally dismissed you. 
"This is so exciting," Cat gushed out in the cooler hallway. "I was telling Jake last night that you and I are going to have the best presentation at the Naval Academy next month, and do you know what he said?"
"Hmm?" you hummed as you walked to the lab.
"He offered to watch Jeremiah!"
"Oh." You hadn't even really considered how hard it would be for Cat to go to Maryland with you, but this was probably a big deal. Jeremiah wasn't even two yet. "Wow. Look at Jake being an exceptional boyfriend. Good thing I pushed the two of you to actually communicate with each other."
Cat laughed and hugged you before entering the lab, but you cringed. Communication. You'd talk to Bradley tomorrow afternoon. You'd pick a car tomorrow afternoon. But when you got home today, you were going to take your temperature and then get in bed. 
You had to wait by the Bronco for such a long time, you contemplated texting Bradley to see what the holdup was. It was late, you were actually starving, and you wanted to go home. You shifted your bag from one shoulder to the other, beyond annoyed that there was only one key to this thing; you couldn't even sit inside. You glared at the pretty blue paint, really missing your ugly red car with your whole heart when you heard boots pounding the pavement behind you.
"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl," Bradley gasped. He must have run the whole way here from the tarmac since he was still in his flight suit. "We ran over. I should have left the keys with you this morning. I"m sorry."
You nodded as he helped you in the passenger side door and buckled you in. "Okay."
He pulled out of the parking garage, glancing at you every few seconds. "All you're going to say is okay?"
You yawned wishing you could get undressed. "What do you want me to say, Bradley?"
He was quiet for a few blocks, but when he turned down your street, he let loose. "I want you to say something more than okay. I want you to fucking talk to me, alright? I feel like everything I'm doing right now is making you mad at me, and I hate that. I fucking hate it." He hit the brakes a little hard in the driveway, and now you were alert as you started crying. 
"Fuck!" Bradley growled, hands gripping the steering wheel. "I'm sorry." He looked so upset right now, you didn't even know what to do as tears streamed down your cheeks. Then he was running across the driveway and helping you out of the Bronco and into the house, but the tears kept coming. And now your head was throbbing and you felt so sick. 
"I just want to go to bed," you gasped. "Please," you begged as he kissed your forehead over and over again while Tramp jumped around. 
"Of course," Bradley whispered, his lips meeting your face again before he knelt in front of you. He kissed your thighs through your khaki pants and helped you out of your boots, looking up at your face which you were sure looked like a wreck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I yelled." 
"It's okay," you managed as the room spun a little bit. "I just need to get in bed."
He carried you there, and it felt amazing to not have to walk. Then he set you on the bed and undressed you as he asked, "Do you want some water? A snack?"
You nodded and got under the covers, and said, "Yes, please," as you started to doze off. All you managed to do was eat a handful of trail mix and chug a glass of water before you passed out. 
When you eventually woke up, you felt a little better, but when you rolled over, the other half of the bed was empty and cold. It was eight in the morning according to your phone. You'd just slept for over twelve hours, and Bradley was out playing golf now. The cool fabric of his pillow on your face felt so nice, you rolled over all the way. You must have a fever and the flu. You felt too hot, and your breasts were aching. So was your abdomen. Your period was probably about to start. 
You frowned and looked at your phone again, opening the calendar app. It was Carole's birthday, but it was apparently also five weeks since you'd had your period. "Oh my god." You practically fell out of the bed, your legs tangling up in the sheets as you tried to get to your feet. 
"Oh shit," you gasped, running for the bathroom. You didn't know what to do first, but your stomach won as you lunged for the toilet and threw up everything in your stomach. "Gross," you groaned as you flushed the toilet, but as soon as you tried to stand, more came up. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you forced yourself to be patient and let your stomach empty itself.
When you finally could, you got to your feet again, removing your glasses to rinse your mouth out and splash water on your face. Then you dried yourself and slid them back on. You eyed the linen closet next to the door in the mirror before turning around slowly. As you strode across the tile floor, Tramp came in to investigate, but you ignored him as you closed the distance to where you thought you might have one last pregnancy test hidden away.
You opened the narrow door and knelt down, and then you started throwing everything from the bottom shelves over your shoulders, frantically searching. You saw the box, and you tore it open. You already knew what to do, because you'd done it so many times before, but your hands were shaking as you removed the test and looked at it on your palm in the foil wrapper. 
Tramp whimpered at you as you got to your feet again and made it to the toilet, this time pulling your underwear down as you went. When the wrapper fell away, you took the test, hands shaking as you set it on the edge of the sink vanity when you were done. Then you wiped as you started to panic. Three minutes. You needed to wait for three minutes. 
Your phone was simply too far away as you started counting out loud, your voice echoing around your bathroom. It wasn't ready yet. You climbed into the empty bathtub, sitting and wrapping your arms around your knees. And you counted. 
You closed your eyes, and you counted. You looked at Tramp, and you counted. You pressed your forehead to your knees, and you counted all the way until you reached one hundred and eighty. 
"Three minutes," you whispered, your heart beating so hard, it was making you feel like you might need to throw up again. You climbed out of the tub onto unsteady legs and held your breath as you walked to the vanity. Very carefully, like it was the most precious thing you'd ever touched, you picked up the test. You checked the result before promptly dropping it to the floor.
------------------------
Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 27
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beanmachine69 · 10 months
Text
Brother's Beloved Bestfriend | Daniel Ricciardo (part ii)
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Warnings: Public(ish), unprotected sex. (please cap it before you tap it.
part i !!
part iii !!
Daniel was a lot of things; respectful being one of them. He’d always made everyone around him comfortable, and always looked out for them. So even though he was confused and hurt, he respected whatever decision you had made; you knew what was best for you and if that meant completely cutting him off, then he’d respect that too.
Except now here you two were again, two years later. Here you were, passing by him everyday, all the time, looking as beautiful as ever, wearing the necklace he gave you. He thought he had gotten over it, that somehow he had moved on with no closure, but he hadn’t. How could he have thought that when last summer when you weren't here and your parents told him to sleep in your room he touched himself thinking of you? Your sheets smelled like you faintly and the whole room reminded him of the night you two had spent together, and it all piled on to be too much to control himself. To be fair, he knew he could have gotten by a night or two without air conditioning, but the idea of sleeping in your room was almost too good to pass. Did he feel awful after doing it? Yes, he felt like a creep, but it wasn’t something he was willing to admit to anyone anyways.
He wasn’t an idiot though, he could see how nervous you were, and how your stare would linger when you thought he wasn’t looking. He was also fully aware of how your eyes would light up with expectation anytime you two would be alone- which had surprisingly increased a lot the past few days- he knew you wanted him to bring the topic up, but to be fair he really was looking for the right time. There wasn’t a moment where he wouldn’t want to pull you away into a quiet room and ask you why you did what you did. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt by what you did, but some part of him knew you well enough to know why; he knew you’d freak out over having to explain it to your family and secretly, Daniel wasn’t looking forward to that either. He could convince himself into claiming that he understood why you cut him off and didn’t want to pursue your very very obvious feelings, but what irked him the most was the lack of confrontation. He had his hesitations too, obviously; you were much younger than him, you were his bestfriends’ sister, your family had been so kind to him, the list went on- but he didn’t cold turkey you.
Now, waking up to you practically throwing a tantrum over having nothing to wear for some family event in the evening, made him realize that it was going to have to be today. He had to bite the bullet and say the words he'd been meaning to say all these months. He knew no one would be home till evening, so now would be a great opportunity to finally talk to you. To solve your pressing problem, he decided to do you a favor and take you shopping, you so clearly seemed to need it.
Your brother had been complaining about how weird you had been acting the past few days, and Daniel knew why. He knew exactly why you’d been throwing such an attitude around the past few days and why you seemed so sullen half the time, when usually, you’d be the best company around the house.
-
“What about this one?” he asked, pulling something blue off the rack, “I know you like blue.”
“Yeah, the color is nice, but I don’t know if I like it.” You pouted.
He pursed his lips, getting a hold of the dress by his other hand, which was already struggling to hold several other hangers. You two had been shopping since 11 a.m, and it was nearly 2 p.m now and you had finally found a store with clothes that seemed to interest you. He was patient with you, he really was, but at this point you both had scanned the whole mall and were exhausted. Kudos to him and his f1 driver stamina, because now you were certain you were the problem.
“Okay, this is nice.” He commented, pulling a red dress from the rack. How cliche. “Be a doll and go try these on.”
He had managed to contain the flirty comments for the past few days, but now he was tired and couldn’t stop imagining you in all these dresses. The tension had built up so high between you two in the past few days that Daniel was certain if either one of you didn’t act on it soon, it would turn suffocating really fast. He was hoping to sit you down at home after your shopping trip and talk to you, but at this point you two would reach back to a not so empty home.
You had been in the changing room for a while, which wasn’t surprising since Daniel had thrown a heap of dresses for you to try. He was on the lower floor of the store, sifting carelessly through the racks when he thought of checking in on you. Moving upstairs he had noted how the store barely had any workers. The thoughts going through Daniels’ head were certainly inappropriate, prompting him to clear his throat to distract himself as he reached the changing rooms.
“You done there? What’s taking so long?”
The sudden voice startled you, you had just taken off the second last dress and were onto the last red one- standing in nothing but your bra and panties, you let out a shriek when you heard the voice.
“Jesus, it’s just me.” Daniel said, voice lower now so as to not scare you further.
“Yeah, um almost.”
“Alright let me see-”
“NO!” You shrieked again, afraid that he’d walk in on you naked, “Give me a minute, oh my God.”
“Okay, okay I’m sorry stop screaming.” He said, stepping back to sit on a stool the store had so kindly left out for people in his position.
God, the thought of you naked and in a changing room had integrated the thousands of thoughts that ran through his head. It didn’t help to note that your shrieking and screaming hadn’t alerted anyone from the store either. God, this was wrong, this was so so wrong- yet, it didn’t feel all that wrong either, especially with how you were looking at him today. He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts, this was wrong and he wasn’t going to act out on it. He had to stop thinking about bending you over in front of the mirror and-
“Alright, this is the one.” You announced, opening the door to the little cubicle.
And god, what a sight you were- that little red dress hugging your every curve, the color complimenting your skin tone. Whatever they said about little red dresses couldn’t have been more true, it was at this moment did Daniel realize why the cliches existed in the first place, you looked divine. He couldn’t seem to get his eyes off of you, he knew all the dresses were great, despite not having seen them, but this one took the icing off the cake. It was just managing to hit the half-thigh mark, revealing your bare legs to him, and all he could think about was how those legs felt wrapped around him, bringing him closer into you.
“Oi, are you even listening?” You asked, snapping your fingers at him.
He looked frustratingly attractive, sitting on that chair with his legs spread open, his back leaning lower on the chair, his crotch displayed on highlight. He looked a little tired, but the moment you opened the door, his eyes shifted, glazing over every inch of your body, taking you in from head to toe, careful as to not miss a single inch of skin- covered or not. He was sitting there, legs spread open, looking at you like a starved man. You couldn’t deny it- you were turned on- he looked so good you couldn’t help but rub your thighs at the thoughts that were running through your brain. The way his eyes scanned you from top to bottom made your knees weak, his once cheery expression was gone, his face now portraying some sort of lust that seemed so primal in nature that you were convinced he was willing to fuck you right there and then- and you were not going to complain. With the way you both were looking at each other, you knew exactly where this was going. Your eyes didn’t break contact with his as he got up, slowly covering the distance between you two, his tongue passing over his lips momentarily. If there was any doubt or denial, it needed to have been expressed by either party now.
Your previous hesitations had dissolved over the course of the past few days, seeing Daniel again had reignited all the past emotions you had felt, all the sadness, attraction, happiness, anger and all other possible emotions had resurfaced, bubbling in you and making you more miserable than you’d want to be. You knew how good he felt now, you knew that you were both on the same page at some point, that one equilibrium point where you both had wanted each other enough to act out on it. You knew he had to have liked you a little bit- or atleast enough to want to fuck you, but seeing how he’d look at you now made you realise there was something more, you both were still on the same page, especially now that he was in such close proximity of you.
“Are you sure about this?” He whispered, not breaking eye contact, face now mere inches from yours. His thumb got a hold of your chin, gently pulling your face up to look at him.
You nodded frantically, losing all possible hesitations as your hands started working on undressing yourself. You obviously knew where this was going, but you really liked the dress and didn’t want to have to look for another.
“Yeah, just like that, good girl.” He encouraged, a smile prancing on his lips.
Grabbing a hold of your hips, he turned you around to face the mirror, assisting you in removing the dress, gently putting it aside as he kicked the trial room door closed. His hands made their way up and down your body, one of them draping over your shoulder, massaging your boob in his hand. You could see his arm flex, making his tattoos move as he massaged you, his lips finding their way to your neck.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy.” He whispered, locking eyes with yours in the mirror.
This was something you’d noticed around the first time, and you noticed it now too; his accent got deeper when he’d be turned on, and apart from the fact that it turned you on, it also was a reminder of how often his voice had done this in the past few days, the thought making you grind your nearly bare ass on his clothed crotch, moaning a little at the friction mixed with the pleasure his lips were pressing onto your neck. He hissed a bit when you ground your ass harder, making his other arm snake its way to your panties.
He started off slow, looking at you in the mirror frequently to catch any discomfort in your expression. Your face was a pretty clear giveaway that you didn’t mind, but your sopping core was a pretty good sign too.
“Baby, you’re sure about this right?” He asked, two fingers lingering at your entrance.
“Mhm, yes Danny please.” Now you weren’t sure whether to grind into his hand or onto his crotch- both feelings too good for you to pick between one.
“If I wasn’t going crazy right now, I’d make you beg for it.” He mumbled, lips against your neck.
You moaned as his fingers slipped in easily, not realizing how wet you were, just glad that he was finally fucking you. He started a little slow, holding on to the little bit of restraint he had in him, but the moment you started moaning his name around him, he lost all possible decorum- pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling them a little to hit your g-spot, making you moan even louder. Even after two years, he knew how to make you feel so fucking good. Though he had lost all possible decorum, you hadn’t- still aware of the fact that you two were in a public space, you clamped your mouth shut with one of your hands, the other reaching back to hold onto him as he picked up pace, thrusting his fingers harder into you, prompting you to arch your back. Your orgasm was building up fast, you had wanted this for so long you couldn’t hold yourself together.
“D-danny, I’m gonna-”
“Cum for me, come on be a good girl.” His voice had dropped so low, he was almost growling.
You didn’t need to be told twice, you felt your stomach tighten as your back arched further into his touch, your orgasm rushing through you, making you moan loud enough for your hand to barely be able to control it.
Your body slumped against his while you came down from your high, your eyes watering just a bit from how strong the orgasm was. Looking at him in the mirror made you shift a little, realizing that he was holding you up straight, eyes locked into yours, lips now leaving sloppy kisses on your shoulder. He was still fully clothed, his appearance not having faltered one bit as he managed to give you one of the best orgasms you had felt in the past two years.
“You alright darling?” He asked, looking over at your face again to detect any signs of discomfort.
“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You sighed, feeling his warmth against your bare body.
“Hm, good.” He whispered, turning you around to face him, lips crashing into yours in a kiss that had been prolonged for far too long. His hands firmly held onto your waist as yours moved upwards,one pulling his face closer and the other resting on the back of his neck.
“Danny lemme-” You began when you two pulled away, trying to squiggle out of his grip and onto your knees to deal with the pressing bulge in his pants.
“No, no darling, I need to fuck you.” His voice was low, but his face was so close to yours that you could feel his lips move against the sweat trickling down the side of your face.
You nodded as a response, your words having left you completely. You knew how badly you both needed this, body still slightly quivering from your first orgasm, you kissed him again, this time allowing your hands to wander around his body, and eventually pulling his shirt off. You didn’t know how much time you had before a store employee would walk in, so you both worked fast. He turned you around again, making you face the mirror, his hand pushed on your lower back as the other wrapped around the front of your waist, prompting you to bend over. He undid his buckle, shimmying out of his jeans and watching as his hard cock pressed against your now bare ass. Your movements were involuntary as your ass began grinding against him again, your hands propping themselves against the mirror for support. Looking at him through the mirror was a sight, his hair was ruffled because of the shirt you had thrown off, his eyes focused on his dick that was inches away from where you both needed it. If you turned your head a bit you could see his thigh tattoo, which you were focusing on when you suddenly felt a sharp stinging pain ripple through your cheek, making you gasp and look up at Daniel. His hand soothed the stinging skin, moving down to align himself with you, looking at you one last time for reassurance after which he slammed himself into you.
The sudden entrance made you gasp, not having been given enough time to adjust as he began slamming into you. The little cubicle filled with the noise of skin slapping against skin, accompanied by moans and grunts from the both of you.
“Is this what you wanted huh?” He asked, hands gripping so tightly onto your waist, you were sure he’d leave marks, “God, I’ve wanted you for so. Fucking. Long.”
Each word of his was punctuated by his thrusts, and you had absolutely no doubt in his statement- with the way he was animalistically fucking into you, you were certain that he needed you just as bad as you needed him. You could feel your second orgasm tighten its way in your core. You were surprised at how fast he was going to make you cum again, his dick was huge, sure, but this was almost embarrassing. You could hear your moans change in tempo as your orgasm rushed you closer to the edge.
“Fuck, you’re close again aren’t you? I’m gonna make you cum again, aren’t I?” He asked, a smirk painted on his face, knowing that you were in no state to give him any answer.
You nodded, eyes desperately locking into his and barely being able to stay open.
“Beg for it baby, beg for release.”
Your whine was low, almost drowned in the noise your hips were making when they’d collide with his. But you managed, to the best of your abilities, to bring some words out.
“D-dan please, please let me cum. I wanna cum on you.”
“Fuck yes, there’s my good girl.” He grunted, hips maintaining the perfect pace as his hand found its way to your clit, rubbing frantic circles, “Cum for me baby, cum on my dick.”
The second orgasm ripped through you, way harsher than the fist, your hand clamped around your mouth to try to control the pornographic moans that slipped from your lips. Your walls clamped around him, your hips quivering as you moaned his name behind your hand. He didn’t stop at that, continuing to pound into you at a much more rapid pace than before, both hands on your waist again, holding you up at this point as your body almost crumpled at the overstimulation. He didn’t go on for too long, your orgasm helping him reach his high with the way your walls were clamping and quivering around him, and the way your hand was muffling your noises. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold off for too long to begin with, knowing that he'd thought about your perfect body for so many nights.
"Darling where do you want me to cum?" He asked, words spitting out at a faster rate than usual.
"Inside me." You whined, your cunt aching now with how sensitive it was.
He didn't have time to think of anything else, the idea of cumming deep inside you had completely pushed him over the edge, hips stuttering as he came, pushing his seed deep in you.
“Fuck.” He whispered, looking down at your ass as he came down from his high, pulling out with a final groan.
You smiled, completely blissed out from the orgasms and the feeling of his cum trickling out of your entrance. He felt as good as he did the first time, making you mentally curse at yourself for ever thinking you could replace this feeling with some stupid guys from your college. You bit your slightly swollen lip, as you turned to kiss him, arms wrapping around him. This time around the kiss was more gentle, his hands slowly going up your spine.
“I missed you, y’know.” He said, pulling away and leaning down to pick your clothes up.
“Hm?” You asked, pulling your clothes onto yourself.
“Oh come on, don’t be surprised. I thought I made my feelings pretty clear about you that first night around.” He chuckled, adjusting his pants back on.
“We are not having this conversation right now Daniel.” you replied, gesturing towards the clothes behind you two.
“Shit, yea we need to get going.” He mumbled, eyes widening a bit at the realization of the time.
Daniel had obviously insisted on paying for all the dresses you had tried on, despite your efforts and reminders that you only needed one dress. He was smiling at you the whole time, even holding your hand when your face turned red as you realized that all the store employees were looking at you two weird, they knew, of course they knew.
“Shit, I have three missed calls from your brother.” He said as he buckled himself in the driver's seat. “I’ll text him back.”
You hummed, now that you were in your senses you had to mentally prepare yourself for the conversation that was to come. You’d been thinking about it for the past few days, but now actually having to execute it seemed like a daunting task. Seeing your hands fidget with themselves, Daniel moved one of his hands from the gear, and intertwined your fingers with his own. He knew you were anxious, and thinking about the several possibilities of the outcome of todays’ events.
“We don’t have to talk right now if you don’t want to y’know. I’m not mad at you or anything, I guess I kinda understood all along.” He trailed off, eyes focusing on the road, his thumb stroking your finger.
“Daniel, we can’t keep pushing this conversation away y’know.” You mumbled, looking down.
“I’m not saying we should doll, we can just talk about it later tonight, okay?” He asked, reassuringly squeezing your hand. “You can get through this grueling little event and then we both can sit down, and peacefully talk about it. Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”
His words were reassuring, he even looked away from the road momentarily to pass you one of his signature smiles. You almost forgot why you ever ran from him in the first place, already looking forward to whatever the night would unveil to the both of you.
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A/N: so sorry for the delay girlies, will be posting the final part much sooner, hope yall enjoy this haha!
as always, send in requests or criticism, both would be appreciated.
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WIBTA if I told my father to stop touching my cat because his hands smell?
🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋 -> so I can find it easier
Okay so I (f19) still live with my parents (m57 f51) and I decided to adopt a cat. After some talking they said they didn't mind a pet in the house (this was a change of heart btw, we never had a pet, they were always super strict about it) but I will be the one raising him. No problem there. Anyway, it's been a year now and they both have grown to love the little guy a lot and are actually taking care of him too.
Now here's the issue: my father doesn't wash his hands. It's enough to make me feel sick at the thought, but I avoid him and never touch him and barely interact with him. But sometimes he'll come over to where I'm sitting with the cat or where my cat is napping and he'll rub at the back of his head (the point the cat cant lick himself clean) and coo at him.
I noticed a few days ago, when I was inhaling his fur, as one does, and suddenly that part reeked. Then I noticed it more often, and it didn't take long to connect the dots. The worst part is that he usually finds the cat just as he's done with the bathroom. ITS DISGUSTING. My poor baby doesn't deserve to be touched with filthy hands. I'm always quick to clean him but the fact he's been touched makes me sick.
Two things you need to know about my father: 1) He is bad person. I won't get into details cause it will turn into an essay, but the more I know about him, the more distance I put between us. 2) The only correct thing he's done is provide for his children without complain or ever asking for anything back.
One thing you need to know about the family dynamic: My father's hygiene is a topic of discussion that comes up a lot in the recent years (by me to my mom), and her response always is that he's tired and he does so much for us, so are we really going to humiliate him over such trivial matters? (The matters are NOT trivial. He is genuinely disgusting).
One thing you should know about me: I have started arguments over his disgusting hygiene before and he instantly turns into a child going, "blah, blah, yeah, yeah, whatever, are you done?" which makes me become even more vile and mean and in the end he secretly tells my mom my behavior hurt him (and acts like a wounded dog) so that she will come and tell me that I broke my father's heart. Same formula each time.
So look. If I tell him he'll react the same way, and although I'm working on not feeling guilty over things like that, I'm not yet there. I know if I repeat the argument a couple times he'll get the memo and be so humiliated he'll stay away from the cat entirely. I also know that my mother will start a cold war with me if I do so. But I care about my cat a lot more, and I don't want dirty hands touching him.
So far I'm always taking the cat away before my father gets to touch him, distracting him with toys and TV mice. But I won't always be home to supervise.
So do you think it's an asshole move to essentially shame my father for the sake of my cat not coming in contact with germs?
Fyi the hygiene thing started in his 50s, he wasn't like that before
What are these acronyms?
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wayfayrr · 11 days
Text
Toucan play at this game
Part two of Birds without feather flock together!!! this is a direct continuation of the previous fic and it was also commissioned by @lost4pandora <3 this time there's more fluff and just overall softness
[masterlist]
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“Pressing in what way? Because I know Wild wouldn’t have been so upset with simple ‘questioning’.”
“I- you remember what you did for me during the war? The um-”
“So you’ve been pushing him about getting prosthetic wings.”
Makes sense why wars has been looking guilty now, if it wasn’t for the fact that they knew it was possible from me helping to repair his back in the war, then they wouldn’t be able to push it so hard. It’s not exactly his fault as long as he wasn’t one of the few that’ve been pressuring him. 
“Well, the others have. I backed off after the first time it was talked about because I respect Wild’s decision. Wars however…”
“It - I, I wanted to drop it but the others, well they wouldn’t exactly let me. I-”
“He w’s their shin’n example.”
“Wild’s right, as much as I wanted to let the topic just drop…”
“Wars struggles to tell the others no sometimes.” Not like I needed to be told that, after how much time I’ve spent around him it’s pretty clear he has a hard time saying no to anyone really. Every time I asked him the smallest favour he always did it without question, often times above what I asked for too. His will to please is often his fatal flaw. He still could have stood up more though seeing how much it affected Wild, they were doing it out of concern, no need to flip out at them yet. 
“I am aware. He’s shown that off time and time again.”
“Huh? but it’s only to people he’- don’t shove me like that!?”
“I know. I know trust me. It’s something I’m working on.” What was Sky going to say if wars hadn’t interrupted him there? Does it really matter though, what this is supposed to be is learning why this pressing has been so bad for Wild and how to get the rest to drop it. Although the time away from the group seems to be doing him good, his familiar weight pressing into my side as he’s making himself comfortable leaning on me. 
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been upsetting him though, does it?”
“Well no it-”
“Yeah it doesn’t, does it.”
They’re both fumbling a little bit now, Wars a considerable amount more than Sky, who’s admittedly keeping a fair amount of this new colder unbothered demeanour of his about him. It’s both oddly comforting and at the same time chilling, without Wild here to help keep the warm in my bones I might have frozen to the touch. I can’t say I wouldn’t want to see more of it. 
“So I take it that one of you is going to tell Time and the others to start laying off of him before I take matters into my own hands. Wars preferably? Seeing as you’re the one who’s pretty much the cause of this.”
“Wars should certainly be the one to do it.” 
The growl in Sky’s voice was completely new, even to someone who’s been travelling with him for longer; Isn’t a growl usually a sign of a bird being aggressive? Is he getting aggressive for our sake… why does my face feel so warm all of a sudden; and are Wild’s tail feathers poofing up? Huh… Maybe there’s something else to question if we get any privacy from wars later, although… It’s probably better for Wild and I to discuss things first, so that neither of us get hurt. 
“I- well, I- yes. I do need to take some responsibility for my part in this after all, don’t I?”
“It’d be the first step to earning both Wild and I’s trust in you back, if you want to do that anyway.”
“Huh - What of course I want to- why wouldn’t I?”
“Why wouldn’t you? Because you’ve shown that you put the pressure of the chain as more valuable than their feelings you fool.”
Wars looked worse than if he were slapped across the face at that; it’s nice not having to be the one to call him out on it either, because Hylia above I know I would have been worse than Sky was. I care for Wars, of course I do, but the fact that he simply went along with this when he saw how much it was affecting my sweet little bird? I would have made him regret it. Which he knows.He’s got the decency to look ashamed though. Standing with his wings drawn close to him, looking smaller than Sky for once even; although with how much he’s puffed out it’s not that hard to look smaller than him. 
“Guys.”
With the speed at which both of them turned their heads, I’m surprised that neither of them got whiplash or worse. The silence was more deafening than it should have been too; the whole forest around us seemingly dropping dead.
“I think it’s for the best that Wars goes back now so that we can avoid most of the fallout.”
“They’ll just question you later instead.”
“Yes, but we won’t be there for the Immediate backlash.”
“You’ll only be putting it off though.”
“You should go back now and tell them we’ll stay here for the night.”
It’s good that Wild feels comfortable enough to be speaking again now, and well I can’t say that having him be so assertive isn’t nice either. He’s still just as cuddly though so nothing was lost, except for maybe a little bit more of the captain's self-esteem as his wings droop even lower.
“Sky and I can go back to the main camp then. Throw ourselves to the wolves for you.”
You can hear the nerves in his voice now; letting out a quiet warble with frantic glances in sky’s direction. Why is he so worried about going back alone? 
“‘d prefer if Sky stayed here.”
“Oh?”
That was the biggest possible stroke to Sky’s ego that he could have given the man, made immediately clear by how much he puffed himself up and started getting flustered. Even going so far as to let out the softest little trill, competing with Wild for the cutest bird. Wait what am I thinking - why am I even - I don’t - I don’t see sky in that way. Do I?
“Mhm, I wanna be with the people I trust r’ght now.”
“And I’m one of those people!?”
“... you don’t trust me?”
“No… not at the minute.”
That seemed to be the nail in the coffin of the captain’s ego, leaving it shattered on the floor now; now he’s just looking between me and Sky for something is it pity he wants? Whereas Sky walked over with the biggest grin on his face, like the cat that got the cream. Since when did he get so damn pretty? 
“Can - Will I be able to earn it back?”
“In time, if you prove you really want to. But not now.” 
“That - yeah I can live with that. I’ll prove it to you that I will- that I can.”
And with one final teary-eyed glance between us, he turned and left. Leaving the three of us alone. I can’t say that I’m surprised that Wild trusts Sky but to want him here after the argument, well that is surprising. I can talk to him about it later though, maybe we could get him to collect some firewood while we collect our thoughts. 
“So what are we doing now? I guess I’m staying up here for the night. Unless you two would prefer some privacy in a bit?” 
“I - I’d like you to stay, please. Just, could you possibly give us a little bit of time, a few minutes even?”
“Yeah, some time to process everything would be lovely.”
“That works well, I’ll just go fly around for a bit and don’t worry I won’t listen in on you.”
Now it’s just Wild and I sitting alone on the plateau like we were back at the start of our journey again. 
Waiting till Sky was high enough to the point where we wouldn’t have to be worried about hearing anything as he circled the area lazily before going to perch somewhere. Leaving us to discuss everything. Well after sitting down and getting as comfortable as we both could, which meant sitting with Wild snuggled up against me.
“So them pressing you is why you’ve been so stressed recently? Why didn’t you come to talk to me about it my lil fluffball?”
“Didn’t want you overreacting.”
That- that’s fair, I can see why he thought I could have done that. 
“But I wouldn’t have done anything that you wouldn’t have wanted me too.”
“Mhm, I know ‘s just worried about it.”
“Okay that’s understandable love, but please don’t hesitate to tell me if it ever happens again. I don’t want you dealing with it alone.”
“I won’t, I promise. Besides I’ve got sky, wolfie and you now.”
“Oh? Sky’s made it into that list fast hasn’t he?”
“He’s a good friend to me, and I know there’s something going on between the two of you too.”
What? What does he mean by that? 
“I’m not blind my beloved, you look at him the same way you looked at me before we were together.”
I could feel my face lighting up now. Between everything he’s saying and the fact that he’s pressing kiss after kiss on my neck. My sly little bird trying to stop me from really being able to focus. Just because he doesn’t want to talk about his own issues. If he thinks I’ll drop it over him trying this he’s dead wrong.
“No, no there isn’t anything there link. And anyway we’re supposed to be talking about you here.”
“I’m not bothered, you know. I think sharing you with him would be nice.”
“Link I’m trying to talk about you being upset, not about whatever you’re imagining right now. Please stop trying to change the topic.”
“He looks at you the same way too, wouldn’t you at least want to try?”
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thatredheadwriter · 2 years
Text
Softer
din djarin x female reader
Your aloof Mandalorian employer, and dare you say friend, is surprisingly considerate when it comes to your monthly cycle.
I just started The Mandalorian and I’m already obsessed. I also just happened to be on my period, and I needed to work through some writers block. So please enjoy fluffy, awkward Din.
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This is a SFW oneshot for female reader with Din Djarin of The Mandalorian. This work does not contain smut, however, it may contain mature language or themes, and as a rule, my blog is only for those over the age of 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.
Warnings Include (but are not limited to):
Swearing (English and Star Wars canon languages)
Menstruation (this shouldn’t have to be a warning)
The expectation for men to be dicks about menstruation
Din is the sweetest
Din is kinda stupid and walks in on someone changing
helmetless!Din (just a little)
Mutual pining
Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.
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You woke up feeling sticky.
The gentle hum of the ship around you was nearly enough to lull you back to sleep, but the stickiness between your thighs and the cold sweat on your skin left you far too uncomfortable to even think about going back to sleep, despite the fact that your watch told you it was far too early for any living thing to be awake.
“Dank farrick,” you cursed, sitting up carefully, sure to duck your head and avoid the shelf above you. With a groan, you slid out of your ‘den’, as Mando referred to it, gathered the blankets you’d been sleeping on, and stalked off towards the laundering unit.
You knew your cycle was due soon, but ever since joining the small crew of the Razor Crest, it was harder to track time. It was the inky blackness of space, the way days would run together. It had nothing to do with your distracting companion, your boss, who stalked around the ship as a brooding pile of armor. The companion you were starting to become strangely attached to.
The laundering unit was empty, thank the Maker. You were just finished shoving the soiled bedding into the chamber and digging around the storage area for the right soap to add, but then a gloved hand clamped down on your shoulder and you yelped.
“Shit, Mando,” you clamped a hand down on your chest to steady your breathing, “How is someone covered in so much beskar so quiet?”
He didn’t answer you, of course, only tilting his helmet at you as he leaned against the wall of the ship. “What are you doing up so early?”
Your stomach churned, only partially from the cramps. There wasn’t much you knew about the mysterious Mandalorian who hired you–hell, you called him Mando, you didn’t even know his name. But you had deciphered he was human, based on his hands. They were the only part of him you’d ever seen without the armor, once when he was tending to a particularly nasty burn you’d picked up trying to fix the main cooling unit. His touch had been surprisingly soft, and you’re loathe to admit you’ve dreamed about it every night since.
But you also knew he was a man. And most men you’d met, even if they belonged to a mammalian species, were distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of menstruation.
“Uh, no particular reason,” you shrugged half-heartedly, finally finding the laundry powder you needed and pouring some into the appropriate compartment of the machine. The bright green bottle of fabric softener was easier to find.
You’d mentioned once how you missed using it, the smell in particular, and on the next supply run, there it was amongst the rations and parts. You hadn’t asked for it, but he’d remembered anyways.
“Why are you doing laundry?” he nodded at the machine. Dammit, he was suspicious.
“Well, it’s just been a while since I washed my bedding. Don’t want to be gross,” you made a face at the last bit. Not only was the conversation making you uncomfortable, but also the growing wetness between your legs. You were grateful for your black leggings and tunic, disguising the mess.
“You washed it eight days ago.”
Shit, why did he have to be so observant?
“Look, maybe I was eating in bed–which, I know, I know, crumbs lead to pests–and I might have spilled a little something is all,” you tried, putting on your best sheepish face. It was working, it seemed, he pushed off from the wall and headed behind you towards the galley. But before you could start the unit, he had slid in between you and it, popping open the door, and pulling out your blanket.
“Blood?” he inspected the fabric.
Suddenly you were pressed against the wall of the ship, gloved hands flying over your body. But not in the way you’d dreamed about that one time. This was clinical, urgent.
“Where are you injured?” he knelt in front of you, searching for any obvious wounds, any signs of pain. The visor of his helmet was tilted up at you, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.
“I’m not injured,” you pushed his hands away from your arms. “Please Mando, I’m fine.”
He stood up to his full height but didn’t let you go. “You’re bleeding, you’re not fine. Tell me what’s wrong now, or I’m taking us to the nearest starport to get you checked by a medic.”
Your face burned. Why did you have to work for the one person in the galaxy as stubborn as you?
“I’m not injured,” you reiterated. “I’m-I’m menstruating,” you mumbled out, staring at the grated floor below you.
“What?”
“Dank farrick! I’m menstruating,” you practically yelled at the shiny surface you’d come to consider as his face.
He immediately took a step back. Great, now he’s disgusted and wants nothing to do with you.
“Look, I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable, but you’re so kriffing nosey…” you trailed off, crossing your arms across your chest and trying to seem aloof. Not like your damn hormones were making you want to cry and scream and eat all the cold rations all at once.
“I’m not uncomfortable. I’m sorry for prying,” he spoke softly.
“It’s okay,” you chewed on your bottom lip.
“You should go clean up.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, slipping away towards the fresher and made it inside before you broke, the tears streaming down your face. You weren’t sure why. Mando wasn’t mad at you, he wasn’t shunning you. He almost seemed to care.
Stepping into the spray of hot water, you allowed your tensions and emotions to diffuse into the steam around you. As red swirled around your feet and down the drain, you couldn’t help but think about what softness might lay under all that beskar.
Eventually, you cut off the water and dried yourself with one of the threadbare towels hanging by the door. It wasn’t until you were ready to step out that you realized you’d forgotten to get clean clothes to change into. So you wrapped the towel around you and hoped you could get back to your makeshift bunk before you started bleeding everywhere.
But when you opened the fresher door, there was a stack of neatly folded clothes settled right where it would be impossible to miss. And on top, an absorption pad. Your face heated at the thought of your big scary boss going through your quarters to find you clean clothes–clean panties, you realized–and a pad. As horrifying as it was, it was an overwhelmingly sweet gesture, like the fabric softener.
He’d chosen well for you: a pair of soft, loose-fitting pants that tapered at the ankles and an old but soft t-shirt you’d had for ages. You were also grateful he hadn’t brought anything frilly or lacy from your underwear collection, not that there were a lot of options like that, but rather a simple pair you’d chosen to match your skin tone. He hadn’t brought you a chest cover, but you didn’t mind so much. The t-shirt was large enough that you felt modest even without one.
Running a hand through your damp hair, you checked that your blankets were still cycling through the laundry unit before slipping into the galley, making sure to step heavily in your bare feet to announce your arrival. Once you’d almost snuck up on Mando when he’d been eating, sans helmet, and you weren’t anxious to repeat it.
But he wasn’t sitting around the table. No, he was standing in the small kitchen. And something smelled really good.
“Are you cooking?” you asked incredulously, sliding into the bench by the table.
It was easier to read him–at least from behind–when he wasn’t wearing his cowl. You could see his shoulders stiffen before he turned around and fixed you in the icy crosshairs of his visor.
“Yes. It’s an old recipe, the warriors in my covert who have cycles say it helps.”
“Oh,” was all you could say. It was inarguably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you.
“Here,” he grabbed a steaming cup of something from a nearby workbench and set it in front of you. It smelled of cinnamon and herbs, and reminded you of Mando himself. “Behot shig. It’ll help.”
You took the container in your hands, allowing the warmth radiating from it to seep deep into your bones. It tasted similar to the tea of the last planet you’d been on, but without the sickly sweet aftertaste. A heady buzz settled into your veins and you sighed.
“Thank you.” You finally managed the words you’d wanted to say for the last hour, staring deep into the amber liquid.
He was quiet for a moment, save for the breathing of his respirator and the crackling of whatever was on the stove.
“You’re welcome.”
While you waited for him to finish the meal, you pulled the holopad from its place in the wall and began running your daily diagnostic check.
“The main cooling unit is down again,” you groaned, leaning your head against the wall in frustration. If the cooling unit wasn’t working, the hyperdrive would suffer a catastrophic failure, and you’d be in deep shit. “I could have sworn it was the condenser coil, but I replaced it last week. At this rate, it’s gonna be cheaper to replace the whole unit.”
Mando grunted as he set a plate full of food down in front of you. It looked good, you could smell the spices and the colors were far more vibrant than what you were used to in ration foods.
“I’ll take care of it.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Mando, please. I may not be some hardcore Mandalorian warrior lady, but I can still do my job.”
He was silent for a minute. You imagined you were looking right into his eyes, although there was no way to tell. This was a stare-down. And maybe he was stubborn, but so were you.
“Ok,” he agreed quietly, “But take it easy. Let me know if you need anything.”
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You didn’t see much of Mando for the day, which wasn’t necessarily odd. But usually, he’d check in on you once or twice throughout the day just to make sure you weren’t ruining his ship or dead. Aside from passing him in the hallway once, you didn’t see him all day. He seemed to be busying himself with a project in the bunkroom, his personal quarters. You’d only been inside a few times, and never more than a few minutes at a time.
It wasn’t until you went to get your blankets from the laundry unit and found it empty that you thought anything of it. Okay, maybe Mando was being nice and put them back in your makeshift bunk. But they weren’t there either. In fact, all of your belongings were missing and the little space between crates that you’d transformed into your own personal nest was closed up.
If ever you were going to lose your cool on Mando, it was now. You’d woken up early, spent damn near three hours shoved in the tiny, unbearably hot compartment next to the broken cooling unit. Your back and stomach were killing you despite the painkillers you’d taken earlier in the day. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep.
That’s how you found yourself close to angry-crying as you pounded on the door to Mando’s quarters. You wanted your stuff, you wanted your blankets, and most of all you wanted to sleep.
“Mando!” you hit the door with the side of your fist as hard as you could, producing a satisfying banging sound. “Where’s my shit, dammit?”
Suddenly the panel slid open and you were able to catch yourself before hitting him square in the chest plate. Not that it would have hurt him, just embarrassed you.
“Come here,” he ordered, stepping aside for you to enter his personal quarters. You eyed him warily, like a mouse entering a lion’s den.
You followed his gaze–well, what you assumed he was looking at–to the wall opposite his bunk. Where before there was just empty space, a blank wall, was a new cot.
Now, new may have been an understatement. It was semi embedded in the wall, like Mando’s own bed, and you could see where he’d cobbled it together from spare parts. The mattress wasn’t anything spectacularly luxurious, but it had been made up with your favorite blankets. Your favorite feature was perhaps the privacy screen.
“This morning reminded me of my promise, when you first joined my crew, that I would get you a proper bunk,” he spoke behind you, watching you admire his work. Behind the modulator, you could almost detect a hint of nervousness.
You turned to face him, biting down on your lower lip to keep from crying. “It’s wonderful, Mando. Thank you,” you whispered. It was truly the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you. He was literally making room for you in his life.
“If you feel you don’t have enough privacy, we can figure something else out. I’ve been-”
“Really, it’s perfect,” you grinned, earlier anger forgotten. “You’re sure you have enough privacy? I don’t want you sleeping with the bucket on just because of me.”
“When it’s dark…” he moved to the control panel by the door, hitting a blue button and plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light was the same blue button on the wall and a green button on the door to the fresher. “You can’t see me.”
“Perfect,’ you nodded, not sure if he could see you.
He hit the button again and you winced as the lights came back on. You stared at each other in silence for a few moments, neither one of you with much to say.
“I, uh, I think I’m going to turn in for the night,” you said awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle and trying not to wince as another cramp rolled through you.
“Your things are in your trunk tucked away there,” he gestured to a small compartment where you could see he’d placed your belongings.
“Thanks,” you smiled once more and knelt to gather some sleep clothes.
“You can use the fresher in here if you’d like,” he said almost awkwardly. “I’ll leave you alone now.”
Before he could get out the door, you were on your feet again, grabbing his arm. He was unfamiliar with this kind of contact with you, and you felt like he might snarl at you like a wild animal. But he simply fixed you with his visor’s gaze.
“Thank you. For everything,” you said sincerely, offering a small smile. He grumbled something under his breath and left you standing by your new bed.
Alone again, and finally close to the peaceful oblivion of sleep, you began preparing for bed. First, you went to the fresher to relieve yourself and change your absorption pad before pulling a favorite pair of sleep shorts from your collection. Stripping down to your underwear, you shimmied them up over your hips and began rummaging for a tank top you knew was in there somewhere.
You’d just found the elusive garment and stood up to put it on when the door slid open. A yelp of surprise escaped your lips and you heard Mando say something unfamiliar in Mando’a before quickly shutting the panel back.
“I’m sorry,” he called through the comms unit on the other side of the door. “I brought you something.”
You tugged the shirt over your head and tried to slow your heart rate as you made your way to the wall panel, opening the door to let him in.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. You could tell from the tilt of his helmet that he was not looking at you. Not even as he handed you a water bottle, a painkiller, and some strange pillow-like thing. It was almost tacky on one side, and the other was metallic, and yet the whole thing was soft and flexible.
“It’s alright,” you set the items on your bed. “I’m sure there’s going to be an adjustment period for…this.”
He nodded, turning to survey the room. It made you giggle, to think that the big bad Mando couldn’t even look at you now. You’d imagined his face a million times, but now you imagined him blushing.
“I’ll leave you alone now,” he grunted, leaving you with your thoughts.
You took the painkiller and drank most of the water. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, and you could feel your eyelids drooping as soon as you slipped in. As you lay on your back, staring up at the rough metal seams and fastenings above you, you wondered what the hell this thing was that Mando had brought you.
Then you remembered. The second bounty he took after hiring you. The locator was taking him towards Hoth and he’d picked up some extra supplies to deal with the extreme climate, including a personal warmer.
You lifted your shirt at the bottom and pushed your shorts down slightly so you could lay the tacky side of the warmer against your skin. It was only a moment later that you found the controls, and you sighed in relief as warmth spread through your lower abdomen.
You hated to move once you finally got comfortable, but you still needed to turn the lights off, so you hauled yourself over to the panel and hit the button before fumbling your way back in the dark. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep. It was so fast that you forgot to draw the privacy screen.
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When Din finally returned to his quarters, now your quarters too, he reminded himself, he was careful to listen for movement. He certainly didn’t want a repeat of the evening’s earlier incident.
He’d never been so kriffing embarrassed in his life. Except for maybe later when he caught himself thinking about your tits as he ate his dinner. They were just so perfect and soft-looking. He’d only seen them for half a second, but he knew they’d haunt his dreams for years.
He felt dirty for thinking of you that way. You were his employee, his coworker,  his friend. But Din liked caring for you. He wanted to do so much more than he did, than he could, but he knew you wouldn’t allow it. It would be inappropriate for a superior to look after his subordinate like that. 
Sometimes he wondered if you harbored anything for him other than friendly cooperation. Like the time he’d come back from his hunt on Hoth half frost-bitten and you’d insisted on staying awake with him until his vitals returned to normal. Or the one time you made him dinner, a secret family recipe you’d called it, and sat blindfolded across from him as he ate, just so you could share a meal with him.
But then he reminds himself that you don’t even know his name. And he doesn’t know much about you other than your name.
So Din resigns himself to maintaining a professional relationship with you as he opens the door to the living quarters. All that’s thrown out the window the minute he sees your sleeping face tucked softly into your pillow, legs curled up in front of you. Soft breaths leave your mouth and he can see the lights of the warmer from under the blanket.
As the door shut behind him, plunging him into darkness, he removed his helmet. He’d been living aboard for so long, that it was easy to find his way to your side even in the pitch black.
He leaned in, placing a kiss to your temple. “Good night, mesh’la,” he murmurs into your skin.
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odyssean-flower · 7 months
Text
The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 2 - Spring: Three Meetings and a Proposal
Masterpost Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Somehow, you keep running into Neuvillette. When something unexpected happens, he offers you an unexpected proposal. Warnings: None except for restrictive gender roles, also for some reason Fontaine’s regency england (sort of) now? Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please go over there if you'd like to read it faster
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Have a picture of neuvillette standing next to the skull of Oroboshi
Previous | Next
A month had passed since that unexpected encounter. You hadn’t told anyone about it, because it felt unreal even to you. Maybe you really had drank too much champagne.
In any case, the events of the ball were quickly forgotten amidst the immense preparations you had to do to obtain your governess license. It was a long, grueling process that involved leaving your hometown and moving all the way to the city, but it was about to bear fruit at last. After one last history exam, you would finally obtain your license and be able to advertise your services in the newspapers and bulletin boards.
And then, you would finally be blissfully freed from all those marriage-hunting obligations. No more balls, no more disappointments...
It was those thoughts that kept you going as you stared at the tiny words in your history textbook while being surrounded by people who seemed determined to scream their lungs out today.
“Get him, get him!” your sweet, adorable sister shouted next to you.
“Send him to jail!” her new beau also shouted from next to her. I’m pretty sure one can’t be sent to jail for hoarding ashtrays, you thought, but said nothing. He probably couldn’t even hear you, anyways.
Today, you were forced to chaperone your sister and the viscount’s son on their “romantic engagement.” Said “romantic engagement” happened to be attending a trial at the Opera Epiclese. Apparently, this was a popular date spot for young couples. It was things like these that made you feel dreadfully old and out of touch sometimes.
The seats were packed for today’s trial, for good reason. This trial was just one part of a lengthy divorce proceeding between a celebrity couple, in which they were trying to figure out how to divide their many, many assets. It was akin to a serial and even had its own dedicated column in the newspapers.
You glanced over at your sister and the young lord. They were whispering together and giggling. Even though the viscount’s son seemed a bit, for the lack of a better word, dopey, from your short interactions with him you could tell that he was a good-hearted and generous young man. Plus, there was a certain charm in watching him and your sister getting closer, the same feeling one would get from observing two cute puppies playing together. Perhaps your mother would live to see one of her daughters get married after all.
You looked back down at your book. You were on the chapter about Remuria, one of your favorite subjects. You loved reading about that long-deceased God King and his drowned empire of music. You knew that there were extensive ruins from that period near the town of Petrichor, but it was much too far and dangerous (without shelling out the exorbitant amounts of money for protection) to go there from the Court of Fontaine, so you could only ever dream of visiting there.
The cacophony faded into the background as you became engrossed in the topic.
It felt like no time had passed before you felt your sister shake your arm. “Sister, Sister! The trial’s over! Let’s go.”
You looked up to see people walking past you towards the exit. Judging from their chatter, the wife seemed to have won. What she was going to do with a vault of ashtrays, you had no idea.
You snapped your book closed and followed everyone else out. “I don’t know how you can read that boring book when there’s such an exciting show going on,” the viscount’s son commented, eyeing the thick textbook.
“Oh, that’s one of Sister’s special powers! The ability to read anywhere, no matter how loud or unsuitable the place is. I don’t know how she does it,” your sister chimed in.
“You can learn it too, you know, if you apply yourself to it,” you informed her.
“Ugh, you’re already talking like a governess,” your sister pouted.
“A governess? You want to be that?” the viscount’s son said, sounding incredulous. Seriously, why does everyone sound so shocked when they hear about it? “I had a governess once. She was always alone and wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. Seems like a rather miserable job if you asked me.”
“Yeah, that’s what I told her, but she won’t change her mind! She kept talking about how it’s ‘her role in life’ and her ‘fate.’”
You tuned the two out. You had heard variations of this conversation too many times over the years.
Once the three of you reached the main hall, the darling couple decided to go get some refreshments while waiting for the rain to subside. You decided to sit on one of the comfy stuffed couches under the stairs and resume your studying.
The words on the pages flowed into your brain. Remus...Sybilla...harmosts... what would it be like to live in that era? Or at least, to walk the places where these words were once part of everyday life? To touch the artifacts—the once-cherished, once-used items—of the people from back then?
You shook your head. Sometimes, your mind would drift to things that weren’t anywhere on the horizon of your life, just like how you would sometimes indulge yourself by reading romance novels and light novels from Inazuma. No, you needed to hone your mind and focus on your reality. You were in no position to move off your pre-determined path. You needed to think about how you were going to teach these concepts to children—
“Good day to you, Miss [Name].”
You nearly jumped at that voice. A very familiar voice. Knowing who you were going to see, you stood up with your head bowed.
“Good day to you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
You lifted your head. The man himself was standing in front of you. You had only ever seen his face in the papers and only met him once (in the dark, no less), but you thought he seemed a bit fatigued. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were sure you would feel the same if you had to preside over such a ridiculous series of trials.
“I do apologize for disturbing you,” Neuvillette immediately said upon seeing your face. Maybe your poker face wasn’t as good as you thought.
“It’s alright, Monsieur. I don’t mind.” You tried your best to sound like you meant it.
“May I sit down?” Neuvillette said after a pause. You nodded, and he proceeded to sit next to you. You moved all the way to the other end of the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone had noticed you two, considering how this couch was somewhat hidden away from sight, but you couldn’t take any chances. A governess’s job prospects hinged on having a spotless reputation, after all.
“Are you here with someone?” Neuvillette asked.
“Yes, Monsieur. I’m chaperoning my sister, who has been invited on a date here.”
Speaking of your sister, you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see how the two lovebirds were faring. They were currently in the process of choosing from a large menu, giggling and nudging each other as they did so. They probably weren’t going to be finished any time soon.
“Date...” Neuvillette mused. “Yes, I’ve heard that it has become quite a trend among young people to have romantic engagements at the Opera. I must admit, I don’t quite approve of having the sanctity of trials be used for such purposes.”
“I agree,” you nodded. “Although since trials are already spectacles, I suppose this isn’t so preposterous.”
“You certainly don’t mince words, Miss [Name].” there was an amused note in his voice. All you could do was shrug and smile. It wasn’t like you could refute him.
Another awkward silence. Maybe you had offended him with your comment? You didn’t really know why he would be offended though, considering that trials in Fontaine were like performances.
“What did you think of the trial, Miss [Name]?”
You had to think about it for a minute. It felt like you were being quizzed on something you hadn’t studied for. “I think they are both idiots, Monsieur. They would save everyone’s time by dueling it out between themselves.”
Neuvillette blinked for a minute, and then a small laugh slipped out his mouth. You took that to mean that he agreed with you.
His lilac eyes moved to the thick textbook in your hand, seeing it closely for the first time. His brow furrowed. “Were you reading that during the trial?”
Under his puzzled gaze, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Um, yes. Not out of disrespect for the proceedings, I assure you, Monsieur. But I have an important exam for my governess license coming up, so I need to grab any chance I have to study for it.”
“Studying in such a chaotic environment... you’re very dedicated to your goal. I can think of a few people who might be able to learn from you.”
You didn’t hear any sarcasm in his voice. He sounded genuinely impressed. You felt your shoulders relax. It had become an unfortunate tendency of yours to become defensive when you talked about these things. “Thank you, Monsieur.”
“What are you studying?” He leaned closer to you. How long is he going to stay here?
“History, Monsieur. I was reading about the older periods of Fontainian history like the Remurian Dynasty,” you opened your book and flipped to the chapter.
He tilted his head to the side as he looked at all the underlined passages and marginal notes on the pages. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the subject of Remuria would make up such a large portion of the exam that it would warrant all these notes. Is it a personal interest of yours?”
The idea that Neuvillette knew what was on the exam was surprising. You didn’t think it was something he would have much knowledge of, but since he was the head of the Maison Gestion, which administered the governess exams, maybe it wasn’t so surprising?
“...I suppose it is,” you said at last.
"What do you like about it?”
That question caught you off guard. "I just...do,” you said at last. “The story of that civilization is very fascinating to me, so I couldn’t help but read more about it.”
No one had ever asked you about this, so you didn’t know how to answer it.
Neuvillette looked down at your notes again. Was he reading them? You had the urge to close your book. Somehow, it felt like a violation of privacy, like he was reading your diary.
You were saved by the footsteps running up to you. “Sister! Sorry we took so long! We got the—oh Archons, is that Monsieur Neuvillette!?”
Your sister and the young master were both holding boxes of Conch Madeleines in their hands, staring at the Chief Justice with identical expressions of shock. You might have laughed if the atmosphere ’t so serious.
Neuvillette stood up. “Good day to you both,” he nodded towards them, then to you. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”
The three of you watched as he left. Once he was out of earshot, your sister turned to you excitedly. “Sister! You know the Chief Justice?”
“I don’t,” you said, which was a half-truth. You really didn’t know him. “He just came up to me and started chatting.”
“Really?” she lifted an eyebrow. “The Chief Justice, who is so notoriously private that he rarely even does interviews, just randomly struck up a conversation with a stranger?”
“Look, I wish I could give you a good reason, but I can’t.”
Your sister continued to stare at you with narrowed eyes. You were usually pretty good at lying to people thanks to your excellent poker face, but your sister was one of the few people who could see right through you.
“Hey, it stopped raining!” Luckily, you were saved by the viscount’s son’s shout. “That was quicker than I expected.”
With snacks in hand, the three of you left the opera house and headed towards the aquabus station.
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The exam day came, and in your honest opinion, you performed excellently. The questions were so easy that you could answer them in your sleep. The results would be finalized next week, and you knew for certain that you had qualified with flying colors. You handed the exam to the invigilator and left the Palais Mermonia with a spring in your step.
Now that you had the rest of the day free, whatever shall you do? Well, since the weather was so nice out, you thought you’d go to the Café Lucerne and get some Conch Madeleines as a celebratory snack. You had brought along your treasured copy of The History of the Decline and Fall of Remuria Volume 1 as well. Just the thought of spending the day eating sweets and reading your favorite book in the warm sunshine brought a smile to your face as you walked towards the elevator.
The thought distracted you so much that you didn’t notice the other occupant in the elevator until they cleared their throat. You spun around. It was as though fate was playing some kind of sick joke on you, since it was Neuvillette—who else could it be—standing in the tiny elevator space with you.
You thought about excusing yourself and leaving the elevator, but it was already descending.
“We do seem to meet quite often, Miss [Name],” he said. “My apologies.”
“Yes, we do indeed, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you said, resigning yourself to your fate. Why did he apologize just now?
“Did you have business at the Palais Mermonia today?” he asked.
“Yes. I had to write a history exam for my governess license.”
“Ah, I see. I wish you luck in passing.”
“Thank you, Monsieur,” you smiled and nodded.
An all-too-familiar silence fell. Couldn’t this elevator go any faster? It felt as though this shaft was going on forever.
You racked your brain for something to say but came up empty. You and Neuvillette simply lived in two completely different worlds. In situations like these, it was better to stay silent and pretend to be invisible, in your experience.
“So, Miss [Name], what do you think of the fall of Remuria? Do you believe it was truly predestined?”
“Huh?” That was the last thing you expected to hear.
Neuvillette repeated his question.
“I heard you the first time, Monsieur...I was just confused as to why you asked me that.”
“I simply want to know what a scholar of history like yourself thinks about it. I’ve asked this question to several others, and I’ve always received different answers. It’s very fascinating.”
A scholar of history? You felt embarrassed at how your heart lifted at hearing yourself described as such.
“Well, if you don’t mind listening to the opinions of an untrained layman like me, Monsieur...”
You cleared your throat and began to launch into the theory you had been brewing inside your head for several years. As you talked, the two of you walked out of the elevator and into the main hall, where people gawked at the Chief Justice listening attentively to a plain-looking woman prattling on about Remus and Boethius.
You noticed none of these things, for you had gotten too carried away with the excitement of finally having the opportunity to express your opinion on things that you actually cared about. You also didn’t notice the soft amusement in Neuvillette’s eyes as he observed you.
“...And so, I believe that Remuria might have lasted for much longer if those in power didn’t covet the things that weren’t meant for them, and instead focused their energies on preparing for their inevitable fate,” you concluded as the two of you neared the Café, then smiled up at him triumphantly. It was then that you realized that you had been the only one talking for the past fifteen minutes. “Oh, my apologies, Monsieur. I got carried away. It must have been dreadfully boring to hear me talk on and on.”
“Not at all. I was the one who asked, and it’s fascinating to hear such long-ago events from the perspective of a modern young lady. Have you ever considered becoming a historian or an archaeologist?”
Your good mood immediately faded upon hearing that. “No, Monsieur,” you said, sounding curter than you meant to. “I have not. Being a governess is my sole goal in life.”
Neuvillette seemed to sense your shift in mood, and the corners of his eyes lowered in regret. “My apologies. I have overstepped my bounds. But still, I do believe that the academic world is missing a brilliant mind like yours.”
You knew he was just being kind, but you still couldn’t help but feel a bit proud. And guilty. Your personal issues weren’t his problem. “Thank you, Monsieur.”
“I must admit, I had a very different impression of you from when we first met.”
“You did?” What he said baffled you. You always considered yourself to be a straightforward, “what you see is what you get” kind of person.
“Yes. I assumed you to be much more somber and cynical, but you’re nothing of that sort. You’re much livelier and passionate than you seem.”
“No, I’d say you were right the first time, Monsieur,” you said, amused. Lively and passionate were not words you had ever heard yourself associated with. “I think everyone acts different when they’re talking about the things they like, because they’re really talking about themselves. For instance, my sister loves to tease most of the time, but she gets deathly serious when it comes to shoes. I’m sure even you have moments like that, Monsieur.”
“No, I’m afraid not. My emotions are not so mutable or varied as yours.”
“Hmm…” you stared at him. It was true that his face wasn’t very expressive, but many people had said the same thing of you and assumed that you were unfeeling, which you knew wasn’t true. Perhaps it was the same for him.
The scent of coffee caught your attention as you realized that you were standing in front of the Café. “Ah, this is where I was heading, Monsieur. Would you like to, ah, join me?” you said awkwardly.
“I would be delighted to, but I am in fact invited to the opera house for a special performance, so unfortunately, I must decline.”
“A performance, huh. That sounds wonderful. Well, I mustn’t keep you then. Goodbye, Monsieur Neuvillette.”
“Goodbye, Miss [Name]. Have a lovely day.”
You watched him as he left. You had been looking forward to your reading time, but now you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely.
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“Congratulations, Miss [Name], you are successfully qualified as a Court of Fontaine-licensed governess.”
The Gestionnaire’s monotone voice did little to dampen your excitement! You did it! After all your hard work and perseverance, you had finally obtained what you longed for.
“Now, you will be placed on the waiting list.”
You felt your smile drop off your face. “Waiting list?”
“There is a large volume of applicants whose applications are waiting to be processed before yours. Not to mention, there is currently a surplus of governesses in Fontaine. You need to wait for the older ones to retire before taking their spots,” the Gestionnaire dropped their voice to a whisper. “I would advise you to reconsider your career aspirations. If you want, you can also be placed on the waiting list for schoolteacher licenses.”
You frowned. School teachers were a somewhat less respectable profession for noble ladies than governess. It wasn’t as bad as laborer or factory worker, but it was still cause for other nobles to gossip about your family behind their backs.
For poor, low-ranking nobles, a spotless reputation was as valuable as gold. Any perceived blemish could attach undesirable labels that would take generations to erase. You thought of your beautiful, angelic sister, smiling so happily with that viscount’s son. That fragile relationship could be so easily snuffed out by a single bad rumor.
There were other jobs open to you, such as lady’s companion. However, you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t last very long in a role like that.
But on the other hand, you were desperate. You needed to fulfill your role for the sake of your family’s future and your own.
“Okay, put me on that list too,” you nodded tightly. “How long is it?”
“For both lists, it would take at least a year before we reach your application.”
“A year!?” you said. You hadn’t intended to sound angry, but the Gestionnaire recoiled. You forced yourself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn’t help your case.
A year was far too long. You lived in a boarding house in the centre of the city, and your savings were running out quickly. You didn’t even know if you would be able to pay next month’s rent. As a governess, you were supposed to receive a stipend for the first few months after obtaining your license as you searched for work, but those hopes were now dashed.
You thanked the Gestionnaire and left the Palais Mermonia with heavy steps, eventually ending up at the Café Lucerne. You considered going to a tavern to drown your sorrows in drink but decided against it. You were angry and frustrated, yes, but not to the point of doing something so foolish.
So, instead of a nice bottle of alcohol, you ordered five bottles of Fonta. Maybe you could drown your sorrows with their refreshing taste instead.
You slumped in your chair as you guzzled down the first bottle. You didn’t get it. You had worked so hard to fulfill the role granted to you by fate, and yet an obstacle was inexplicably placed on your path. It was such an inoffensive, unassuming role, so why...?
And what were you going to do from now on?
You could go home. Your family lived in a small town that was some distance away from the Court of Fontaine. But you would rather not. You had moved out in the first place to alleviate the financial burden on your family, and if you did move back, you would have to endure your mother’s tireless attempts to find you a husband.
You tilted your head back and stared up at the sky. It was a clear blue, not a single cloud in sight. It felt like it was mocking you.
Just then, a pale face framed with long silver hair blocked your sight. Lilac eyes looked down into your own.
Of course he would be the one to witness your current state. You wouldn’t be surprised if you went home and found him in your sitting room at this point.
“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you stood up and curtseyed half-heartedly. “As you can see, I’m no state to keep you company today. Please feel free to converse with someone else."
Neuvillette did not leave, but instead surveyed your surroundings. His brow furrowed at the bottles of Fonta.
He sat down across from you.
“My apologies for being so presumptuous, but I simply cannot stand by and watch you in such a state. Please, tell me what is distressing you.”
You stared at him. He was leaning forward, his eyes brimming with concern. Even though you barely knew him and was still considering just excusing yourself and leaving...
You sat back down and told him what just happened and your current circumstances. As you did so, you felt hot tears building up at the back of your eyes. You squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop them from coming out. You prided yourself on never crying, on taking what life threw at you without complaint. But there was also another reason, something you were surprised to admit even to yourself.
You didn’t want Neuvillette to see you cry.
It was a pathetic wish, but you wanted to show your best side to him. You wanted him to keep being impressed by you.
You didn’t know if Neuvillette picked up on your feelings. You hoped not. If he tried to comfort you, you would really lose control.
It felt colder than it did a few seconds ago. The area darkened; the shadows of clouds casted onto the ground. You could hear the people around you discussing if it was going to rain. Perfect. You would welcome rain at this point.
Neuvillette didn’t say anything for a while after you finished talking. You wondered if he understood what you told him. Surely the Iudex, the highest authority figure in the land next to the Hydro Archon, would find the concept of financial issues foreign?
You decided to grab another bottle of Fonta. But just as you reached for it, Neuvillette’s hand blocked yours and gently placed it down on the table.
Unaware of your reeling, he spoke in a quiet voice. “I can see that you’re in an extremely difficult situation, Miss [Name]. It troubles me greatly.”
You simply nodded. What else was there to say.
“I would like to propose an... unorthodox solution to your problems. One that would be beneficial for both of us.”
You looked up at him at that. You had expected him to tell you to go back home and tell your parents what happened and obey their wishes. But Neuvillette himself was offering a solution? What could it be?
Every nerve in your body was telling you that this could lead to nothing good. You usually trusted your instincts, as they were always right, but currently you were desperate enough to listen to anything.
“What do you propose, Monsieur?”
“Marry me.”
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mimikittysblog · 10 months
Text
BFF! Jay: Your Ex Tries to Get You Back
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Synopsis: How each member of Enhypen would react when their best friend (who also happens to be their crush) has their ex trying to get them back.
Genre: fluff with very light angst | headcanons
Heeseung - Jake - Sunghoon - Sunoo - Jungwon - Niki
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
You and Jay probably became friends during school
Was always friendly to each other but got close when the two of you got paired up together for a project
While working together you have come to a realization that y’all work really well together and enjoyed each others company a lot
So when you guys finished the project a week before it was due..
You were kinda upset
Cause that means you don’t really have a reason to hang out anymore
So you decided to make the first move and ask him if he still wanted to hang out
You were nervous he would say no but to your surprise. He really wanted to.
So a beautiful friendship blossomed.
However.. Jay being Jay..
You fell for him. Hard.
He always told you that he wasn’t much of a romantic
WHICH IS A BOLD FACED LIE PARK JONGSEONG
But it was always the little things he did that caused a blush to appear on your face
You didn’t really do much about your crush cause it seems Jay just wasn’t interested in a relationship
Despite the time he gave that pepero to a girl and somehow got rejected.
NO BUT LIKE HOWTHE FUCK DO YOU REJECT PARK JONGSEONG?!?!?!?!?
Now when he went to I-LAND, you still kept in touch as best as you can
Even though he often didn’t have the time to respond to you
But you kept texting him encouraging words when he had a particular tough time on episodes
These text range from: “You did great this episode Jay! You got this! I’m always rooting for you!”
To: “Park Jongseong you are fucking amazing okay?! Don’t give up now!!! YOU WILL DEBUT!!!!“
On the night he was announced to debut he called you to say thank you for supporting him and to even apologize for not really engaging with you as much as he used to.
“Its just you’re still one of my best friends and I feel bad for not.. being a good one.”
“Jay you have absolutely no need to apologize. You’ll always be my best friend and I’m happy you’re prioritizing the thing you that makes you happy. Omg I’m so excited for you!!!”
What you don’t know is Jay actually feels guilty for not prioritizing something else that makes him happy.
You.
Yes he fell for you too during his training and I-LAND period.
You always encouraging him, comforting him and just staying by his side in a way was just so heart warming and always made him so happy he eventually fell for you.
Or maybe it just made him realize the feelings he had for you this whole time.
Anyways, he unfortunately didn’t know how to tell you though.
But he decided that after he makes his debut, ends his promotions and he gets to go back to school..
He will confess to you.
Unfortunately for him, during that period, you actually gained a crush on a classmate of yours.
It wasn’t as a strong of a crush on Jay but it was a crush nonetheless.
Soon enough the two of you started dating.
Jay was kinda heartbroken when he came to school and found out you have a partner already.
Which is also something Sunoo and Jungwon teased him about at school.
But Jay supported and was happy for you cause you also seemed happy at first
Though as times went on and some conversations with you steered toward the topic of your relationship, in all honesty…
Jay doesn’t like them anymore and thinks that he honestly can treat you better.
One day Jay was about to leave school but saw you fighting with your partner.
Jay didn’t want to be nosy and mess into your business but it seemed really serious and he could even see you’re crying.
His heart started to actually hurt so he quickly intervened
“Y/n lets just go…”
Without a word to your partner, you just left with Jay
He then took you home and comforted you as you explained what happened.
You found out that your (now ex) partner was talking mad shit about you behind your back, claiming that you were a bad significant other.
Hearing this Jay was furious but also proud of you for breaking up with them.
Now that you’re single again, your hang outs with Jay became more frequent and longer
Which also means your feelings for each other grew stronger.
Time goes by and now graduation is upon you two
And here Jay finally decided to confess to you at graduation.
Sunoo and Sunghoon kinda teased him for being cliche but relieved that Jay is FINALLY making a move.
“Go get her hyung!”
“Yeah! And don’t fuck up! Or you might have pepero reject the sequel: bouquet edition”
Yeah.. he’s kinda shitting bricks thinking about your rejecting him but he can’t back out now!
He got you a bouquet on his was to school, praying that you’ll like them.
Also thinking if you reject him he could just give the bouquet as a ‘congratulations’ present.
He really wishes you’ll accept him though.
He’s so cute imma cry 😭
When he arrived he immediately was on the search for you.
Completely ditching Sunoo btw 🤦‍♀️
But soon enough he was able to find you by the staircase but..
You weren’t alone.
You were standing there with your ex and his heart dropped.
He couldn’t help but think the absolute worse.
Why are they here?
What do they want?
Are they together again?
No please..
They don’t deserve them..
I do.
He then heard the dreaded words “I want you back please?” From your ex’s lips and see them pull out a rose.
A single pathetic rose.
Looked like it was starting to wilt 🙄
Which also angered Jay cause HELLOOO?? You deserve more than that!!
So many emotions are swimming through his mind as he clenches the bouquet he has for you.
But then he sees you take the rose..
That shattered his heart.
He was about to admit defeat and walk away again
That is until you quickly threw the rose back at them.
“Yeah. You should want me back asshole. But I couldn’t care less. You’re fucking insane if you ever thought you had a chance to have me back.”
🎶 ALEXA PLAY THATS MY GIRL BY FIFTH HARMONY!!! 🎶
“And you are really fucking unwell if you thought a pathetic rose like this would ever sway my heart.” You added on as you stomped on the rose.
After the initial shock and happy dance he was doing in his head Jay realized that was his cue!!
“Y/n!! There you are!” He said with a huge smile.
You turned to look at him and immediately have your mood lifted.
“Jay!! You’re here!! Come on lets go take photos!” You ran down to him and hugged him tightly
Before dragging him away from your furious ex who was still at the top of the stairs.
Who Jay also couldn’t help but smirk at.
“So I’m guessing you heard everything?” You asked once you were alone.
He chuckles before nodding.
He then gave you the bouquet.
“For you. As a congratulations! A-and..” He trailed off getting nervous.
“Aaaaaanddd?” You ask with hopeful eyes as you happily take the bouquet.
He looked into your eyes before sighing
“And.. a confession. I like you.. Y/n. Maybe even love you. For years now. And I’m hoping you will accept me. If not you can just accept the bouquet just as a congratulations without the-“
*smooch* 😚 ❤️
He suddenly gets cut off as you kissed his cheek.
“You’re so cute Jay. I like you too. So so much! Of course I’ll accept you.” You said with a giggle.
He let out the biggest sigh of relief before quickly pulling you into a tight hug.
You both however were interrupted by a loud squeal.
You jumped and looked only to find Sunoo squealing while recording.
“FINALLYYYYY!!!!”
“YAH KIM SUNOO GIVE ME THAT PHONE!!”
You held onto Jays hand tightly before he gets the chance to run after him.
“Just stay here with me?”
He looks at your eyes that he can never resist and chuckles.
“Okay.”
.✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚: ✧・゚✧.
© mimikittysblog 2023
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flappingdragon · 2 months
Text
DiaLuci HC’s
A/N: I don’t think I’ve actually posted any DiaLuci on here that wasn’t a reblog lol. Guess I’m here to deliver to y’all XD feel free to take any of these HC’s and adopt them into your own canon DiaLuci universe
(P.S. I didn’t proofread anything, so if there’s any mistakes, which there probably is, sorry in advance!)
Tags: DiaLuci, fluff, SFW and NSFW content, no MC/reader, wing kink, dacryphilia, I’m not gonna tag everything I wrote into the tags cuz I’m lazy, but just be careful when reading cuz I have nsfw stuff (it will be marked under the NSFW category, dw)
(Read Under the Cut)
✅SFW✅
Sometimes, when both Lucifer and Diavolo are working late to finish up some last minute documents and files, Lucifer won’t realize that he’ll lightly growl at random times
Lucifer doesn’t notice but Diavolo does and he thinks it’s adorable
Diavolo would put down his pen and rest his chin on his hand and just look at Lucifer with awe
Diavolo is fascinated with any sound Lucifer makes so even hearing him growl makes him so happy
When Diavolo finally told Lucifer that he growls, Lucifer simply denied it and moved on to a different conversational topic
Mostly, it’s Diavolo that tends to initiate things in his and Lucifer’s relationship due to the fact Lucifer isn’t used to physical or verbal affection
But that doesn’t mean Lucifer doesn’t initiate anything towards Diavolo
If Lucifer wants to initiate anything, even if it’s a kiss, he would ask first
Diavolo would always tell him he doesn’t have to ask but Lucifer will continue to do it anyway
But Lucifer does get a bit embarrassed when he asks for a kiss
Diavolo loves it
When the both of them go out to drink and Lucifer has had too many drinks, Lucifer will shower Diavolo with praise, affection, and touches
When Lucifer gets drunk, everything he wants to say will come pouring out without a filter
Diavolo gets so flustered and Lucifer will tease him about it not realizing he himself is also red in the face
Diavolo is mostly found laying in Lucifer’s lap in their private moments away from work and Lucifer’s brothers
Diavolo just loves the way Lucifer runs his fingers in his hair
It makes him feel so happy and loved
Yes, it’s cliche but he loves Lucifer so much
I mean, how could his stomach not do triple summersaults when his dear fallen angel shows him some physical affection?
If he was a puppy, his tail would absolutely be causing a strong wind
⚠️NSFW⚠️
When I’m the bedroom, it doesn’t matter who’s top and who’s bottom
It just depends on how the both of them are feeling at that peculiar moment
One night, Diavolo could bottom and wake up with his body littered with love bites, hickeys, and handprints made from Lucifer’s hands
Then the next night Lucifer could bottom and wake up with a sore back, numb horns, and his feathers ruffled beyond recognition
So yes
These two are definitely switches
Diavolo, depending on his mood, either likes sex to be romantic and soft or he likes it rough and quick for a nice stress relief
Lucifer, no matter what his mood is, LOVES to be rough whether he’s topping or bottoming and there’s no in between (unless Diavolo asks him to be gentle and careful then only will Lucifer comply)
Diavolo, most of the time, likes to be soft when topping then he likes to make Lucifer forget his own name as time progresses
But when Lucifer tops, he likes to overstimulate Diavolo to the point that he’s a moaning, begging, and crying mess
Which definitely indicates that Lucifer has a dacryphilia kink
Lucifer loves the idea that only he can make Diavolo cry with the sheer amount of pleasure he gives (and it’s one of those cliche things where it’s only HIM that can make him feel this way)
Diavolo definitely has a wing kink
He just loves Lucifer’s wings and likes to touch them
Which then usually causes Lucifer to reach his climax early bc his wings are so sensitive to touch (especially in certain areas like the base of each appendage)
Diavolo also like his own wings played with
Whether if it’s dragging a finger over every intricate detail or just full on fist-grabbing, he enjoys it
Especially when it’s Lucifer doing it
Gods. He just wants Lucifer to ruin him
And it shows XD
Aftercare with them is easy
Just a simple snap of either Lucifer’s or Diavolo’s fingers and everything is cleaned and spotless
Barbatos is thankful to that bc he does NOT want to clean up after the prince’s and his partner’s mess
Poor guy has enough on his plate
He doesn’t want to be in any way, shape, or form involved in any of the prince’s sexual practices/activities
#givebarbatosabreak
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teyamsatan · 1 year
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The Archer | Chapter VIII: Bigger Than The Whole Sky
Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X
Summary: As you try everything in your power to bring Neteyam back to life, he gets everything he's ever wanted in Eywa.
Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader
Word Count: 11,5k words
Warnings/notes (please proceed with caution, some of the topics might be sensitive/triggering): angst (lots and lots of angst), death, blood, violence, cursing, mildly suggestive content (18+, minors DNI), spoilers (!!) for ATWOW
A/N: i am sick and i am so so so sorry - IT HAD TO BE DONE OK?!
This was supposed to be the last chapter, but i quickly realised as i was writing it that there was no way I could reasonably end the series the way I wanted to this way - so two chapters it is. This took everything out of me honestly, but i put so much love and effort into this series, into the laws and the lore I have created, and I hope it comes across this way. I have spent an obscene amount of time trying to piece it all together, make everything consistent within the story I have already told, and I am proud of the way everything is shaping up. Now, this chapter WILL HURT and I am so sorry, but I PROMISE you all you will not be disappointed with the ending, and I will give EVERY character the ending they deserve, bc i love them all so much and they deserve to be happy.
Anyway, I'll stop rambling but i'd love to chat more about it and elaborate my thoughts and reasonings so let's chat in the replies/asks baby boys, gals and non-binary pals <3 ILY all so much xoxoxo
↳ *Spotify playlist* ༉‧₊˚✧
No words appear before me in the aftermath Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness 'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea
“Where are your sisters?”
Jake’s voice registered weakly in your ears, just like the muffled cries around you and Neytiri’s haunting wails. The tears that fell from your eyes were dried up and gone in the wind, like the rest of your being was. Empty. Soulless. Dead. 
“YOUR SISTERS, WHERE ARE THEY?” 
“I don’t know.”
Lo’ak’s voice sounded tired. So tired. You were all tired. Tired of this world, tired of the pain that never ever seemed to cease, that never ever wanted to relent. Your blurred dizzy vision moved to your hands, red and sticky, coated in Neteyam’s warm blood. You looked at Lo’ak, whose hands looked similar to yours. Fitting, you thought. His blood was on your hands. You were responsible for this. He wanted to leave. He wanted to get the fuck out of the ship, like you should have done. You made him come. And because of you, your dad was dead, your mate was dead. Your dad was a trained soldier, one of the best that has ever existed. Why in Eywa’s name would you ever think he needed you? If you hadn’t been there, they would have probably escaped the ship easier, quicker, and you would be all finishing the rest of the humans instead of trying to figure out how you were ever going to survive this, how you were supposed to exist in a world Neteyam didn’t, how you were going to make quick work of your damned, void soul.
Your mind went to the book, the book that you took with you to this new life as you carried it in your own, the book whose every memorable quote reminded you of him, that felt so appropriate now, all the words were swimming scattered through every crevice of your being. 
“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”
“Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!”
“I have to remind myself to breathe -- almost to remind my heart to beat!”
“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”
“Nelly, I am Heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more then I am always a pleasure to myself - but, as my own being.”
It truly seems you couldn’t stop ruining everything you touched. It seems no matter what body your mind was in, no matter whether in the forest or at sea, no matter a child or a full grown adult, no matter broken or seemingly healed, everything you touched just turned to ashes. Everything, everyone that dared to get close to you was bound to be lost in the abyss forever. 
“WHERE ARE THEY?”
“They’re on the ship. They are tied up on the ship.”
“Yeah, they’re at the moon pool. Come on, I’ll show you.” 
All the voices were distant, broken, like a messed up radio, you could only pick up words, only sounds that your brain was working hard to try to piece together. You didn’t know who was speaking, your every sense focused on Neteyam, on his eyes, still open, that will haunt you forever, for the rest of your measly, torn-apart life.  
You noticed Jake come to you, taking you by the shoulders and shaking you. He did the same to Neytiri.
“Kid, come on. Let’s go. We gotta go.” When he saw how unresponsive you are, that your eyes barely looked more alive than your mate’s, that all you could muster was a barely visible shake of head, he let you go. 
“Listen to me, listen to me.” He could barely speak, could be barely heard over the stirring, painful cries continuously escaping Neytiri’s mouth, yet another thing you will never be able to forget as long as you live. You have never heard anything like it, never thought it was possible for such sounds to escape another being, never thought a wordless evocation could say so much, could say everything words couldn’t. 
“They have our daughters. They have our daughters. I need you with me. And I need you to be strong. Right now, strong heart. Strong heart.”
Silence enveloped the space around you, just like the darkness that came with the eclipse, and you were happy, happy for your mind to be able to focus on what it needed to, what it had to. 
“Let’s go get our daughters.”
“You stay with your brother.”
“No, dad, I want to go with you.”
“You’ve done enough.”
“No, dad…”
Neteyam woke up dazed, lavender haze surrounding him until his vision finally focused, and he was able to see the periwinkle glow for what it was: bioluminescent flora. Different than the one he’s been forced to get used to the past few months - better. Because this beauty all around him was in a place he knew and loved so much, that will always be his favourite place in the world. Your clearing, back in the Omatikaya forest. How was he here? He couldn’t remember what happened, couldn’t remember a single thing from before a few seconds ago, but he took a moment to revel in being back home. He has not said it to anyone, not even you, but as much as he has enjoyed the reef, enjoyed the peace that came with being far away from humans, within the Metkayina clan, Neteyam deeply missed his home. He’s wanted to speak about it to you, but couldn’t - not when he knew how much you have also been struggling with it, how much you also missed this place, not when there was nothing to be done anyway. They couldn’t come back, as much was clear, while the humans hunted them so ferociously, while the clan could suffer as a consequence. 
This place was slightly different than he remembered, Neteyam mused, and he realises it is because he has very rarely seen it after eclipse. You both usually came here during the day, as dangers hid in the shadow of the night, dangers he wouldn’t be willing to risk encountering, not with you around. He slowly, deliberately, enjoying every step, every sensation, every sound, made his way to the middle of the clearing, where the river trickled serenely, and he couldn’t help kneel next to it and put one hand in the water, palm against the current. He stood like this for a while, reminiscing about all the memories you have made here and how happy he was to be able to feel this again. 
“Neteyam, wait uuup!”
“You have to be faster than that if you ever want to catch me!” 
“I don’t want to catch you, I just want to catch up with you!” 
Neteyam laughed at the tiny 8 year old girl with bouncing hair and starry eyes, ears pushed back and tails swinging rapidly from one side to the other in happiness at seeing her running towards him, a small pout on her pink lips and an annoyed figure on her face. The little boy kneeled to the ground and opened his much bigger arms wide and she ran straight into him, almost knocking him over at the force of the impact. He wondered if it hurt her. He was always worried about her, she was so so small. 
“You caught me.” 
“Woah! What is this place?” 
Neteyam took in your awed, amazed expression and turned around slowly and was speechless at the beauty of this place, this little corner of Pandora that seemed untouched, that seemed no one else has ever set foot in it before you two. 
“It’s heaven!!” 
“What’s heaven?” You spoke English most of the time, although you knew Na’vi as well, but a lot of the words you spoke were new to Neteyam - he was a fast learner, though, and he loved it when you explained anything to him. It was better than when the scientists did, except auntie Jo. He loved auntie Jo. 
“It’s where good people go after they die, at least that’s what mummy said about Earth people.” 
Neteyam shook his head minutely. “No, people go with Eywa after they die! Everybody knows that!”
“So, maybe Heaven is where Eywa is?”
You both thought about it a long time, focused expressions on both your faces.
“That sounds about right! But why is it here?” 
You thought about that for a while too. “I think Heaven looks different for different people. But this can be our heaven! Yours and mine!” 
“Just you and me?”
“Just you and me.”
Neteyam liked the idea of that, that there would be a place for only you two, for the rest of time. 
Neteyam’s attention shifted back from his own little world into this one, although it barely felt like anything changed, as two little kids ran straight into the clearing, a little human girl chasing a blue boy. Why was his mind making him see the same thing twice, why was this all so real, it was like it was taken from his imagination and placed into the physical world? 
“Kalin, wait uuup! I’m smaller than you and I have tiny legs! You are being mean, brother!” 
Kalin? Brother? 
“Tsy, you’re the one that asked me to not go easy on you.”
“Well, that’s what mother told me to say. She said it’s called feminism.” 
“What’s feminism?”
“What do I know? I’m six.”
Neteyam was taken aback at the interaction, and at these kids that he has never seen before, whose names didn’t sound familiar to him at all. And the little girl… there’s no other human children on Pandora, haven’t been since… well, you. Could they be new children the humans brought with them? But the scientists always said the reason Spider wasn’t sent back was because you cannot put babies in the contraptions humans used to travel. He sat there, unmoving, just taking it all in, studying these two children carefully, with intense curiosity. His eyes widened and mouth opened before he even realised, as he observed the girl more carefully. She was human… but she had white freckles, freckles like all the Na’vi did… and she had a queue. A queue… 
Her hair was dark and thick, braided and ornate, with beads and feathers, and her eyes, they were yellow, like his, but the shape, just like the shape of her nose and mouth… she looked like you. The boy was taller and blue, like he was, but his eyes and nose looked… human, nothing like a Na’vi, and Neteyam was reminded a lot of Kiri, how she looked even more human than an Avatar. As he was laughing at his little sister, Neteyam saw the boy… Kalin, was it? He didn’t have fangs, either. His hair was long and wavy, a different colour than the rest of the Na’vi had, and he was wearing it down, flowing gently and glowing in the sun. 
Neteyam’s heart was about to explode out of his chest as the realisation slowly hit him, and as he shifted a little towards them, struggling to keep himself steady on the ground, the sounds his body made attracted the attention of the two little beings in front of him, who both gasped loudly and smiled widely at his presence. 
“DADDY! YOU’RE HERE!” 
They both ran with all their might straight into his body, which - at the contact as well as the overwhelming feelings that enveloped him whole - fell straight to the ground with a loud thud, and which Kalin and Tsyeym started attacking mercilessly with tickles and kisses. 
“WE MISSED YOU, DAD!” 
No. No. No. 
This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end. 
You felt like you just woke up, like your brain rewired and restarted. What the fuck were you doing? You were a medic. You were a scientist. You had a fucking medical bag full of supplies and equipment and so much shit you worked so hard to learn to use, to bring here with you. And you were just going to let your mate die? Without even trying? No. No fucking way. 
You got up from the ground, like the ground burned you, and ran to Neyn, where you picked up the large bag that always resided on her, and moved it next to Neteyam’s body. You pushed away the tears forming silently at his unmoving form, trying not to dwell on it too much. He’s just sleeping. He’s just sleeping. Your mate, your best friend and the love of your life, the man you hoped would be the father of your children one day, he’s just sleeping. 
You searched the bag, hurried and crazed, and found the strips of gauze you were looking for. You removed them from their sterile wrappings and screamed at Tsireya, who was looking at you panicked, not understand what was happening. You cringed a little at her face, a crying, blubbering mess, and tried to push the thoughts out of your mind. He’s just sleeping. Just sleeping. You looked around for Lo’ak, or Jake, or anyone else, but they were all gone. Where was Lo’ak? Where did he go again? You needed him and he was gone. You growled loudly, but didn’t say anything else on the subject, turning your full attention to Tsireya.
“I need you to help me keep him upright for a while, I need to bandage his wounds. Can you do that?” 
She was confused, the emotion very obvious on her face. “Y-yes, I can, but… but… he’s d-“ 
“Tsireya.” You hissed lowly, fangs barring menacingly. He was sleeping. Just sleeping. “Can you help me or not?” 
She nodded furiously, and you knew she would help in any way she could. She was a good kid. She’ll make a good Tsa’hik one day. 
“Alright.” You helped her bring his torso up, and you waited for her to rearrange so that she could keep his much larger body in the position you needed her to. You grabbed the large bandage and rolled it around his body, tying it as tightly as you possibly could, cursing under your breath that no one else was here, knowing that Jake could have tightened it better than you could. You needed as much pressure as possible, needed the wounds to stop bleeding. You were trying not to think about how much blood he’s already lost. All that mattered at the moment was that his heart started beating again. You were the same blood type, you could give him blood, but all the blood in the world wouldn’t do anything without a heart to pump it through his body. 
Once you were happy with how wrapped his body was, you motioned for Tsireya to lay him back on the ground, which she did, slowly and carefully - which you appreciated. You straddled him, knees on either side of his abdomen and placed the heel of your hand over his chest. You placed your other hand on top of the first, and intertwined your fingers together, starting to pump his chest rhythmically, putting all your effort into it. 
“Tsireya, I need you to look in the bag and find a red little case, like a basket. When you find it, bring it to me, fast.” 
She took off immediately, ready and committed to do whatever it took to help. You continued the CPR, not stopping for a second, mind running a thousand miles a minute. The fight or flight finally overtook you, and you knew now you would do whatever it took to bring Neteyam back. Because you had to. Because there was no other option. Because you have both suffered enough. You deserved a soft epilogue. You were both good people, and you suffered enough.* 
“Here it is!” She brought it next to you, flinging it from side to side in front of your face.
“Good. Now I need you to open it, you see that string? That’s called a zipper. Just pull on it and it should come apart in two.” 
Once she did that, you saw the defibrillator come into view and you sighed a small breath of relief. You were exhausted, sweat dripping from your forehead and onto Neteyam’s chest. 
“I need you to put this on him. I will walk you through it, I will tell you what to do, but you have to do it, do you understand me?” 
She looked uncomfortably from side to side. “B-but, I.. you should do it.” 
“I can’t do it, Tsireya. Please. I know this it strange to you, and new and unnatural, and I am sorry, but I need to do this. We need to do this.” You let out a pained cry. “I need to save him. I can save him.” 
Your voice rang in the forest all around him, surrounding the meadow and filling his ears, hauntingly beautiful and serene, and he was overwhelmed at the voice, that he missed so much, that he felt like he was just hearing for the first time. 
Where the North wind meets the sea
There's a river full of memory
Sleep, my darling, safe and sound
For in this river, all is found
Neteyam struggled to understand what was going on, but, as he was being tackled by the children that just called him dad, the children that bore a striking resemblance to both you and him, he allowed himself to be pushed to the ground and he felt his heart swell to twice its size at the feeling of warmth that enveloped him. As he tightened his arms around the little boy and girl, he realises he knows them. He knows them, has known them every moment of their lives. He has loved them every moment of their lives. 
“Parultsyìp! (Children!)” 
Memories flooded his being, of your beautiful body, now a bit bigger than he remembered, caressing your pregnant belly tenderly as he placed small kisses all over it; you laughed loudly as the action made you ticklish, and brought your hand to the back of his head, patting him gently, playing with his braids. Memories of Kalin being born, a strange sight, seeing the blue baby come out of his very human mate, but the happiest day of his life. Memories of Mo’at telling you you’re pregnant again, and the shock that overtook you both, then the immense joy that followed seeing his baby girl for the first time, so tiny and absolutely perfect. The first communion with Eywa, their pocket-sized queues connecting to the Spirit Tree, the whole tribe and the scientists, all there to celebrate the Olo’eyktan and Tsakarem, as well as their new happy family. Putting them to sleep every night, neither of them able to slumber without hearing your voice singing softly in their ears. The years passing, but not the passion and love you shared, still obsessed with each other, still going at it like crazed teenagers, like you did ever since you first mated. Images of Lo’ak being the best uncle, and Neteyam having panic attacks every time he would twist and throw his kids in the air like they were helicopter propellers. His mother and father both holding each one of the kids in their arms, cooing and rocking them softly, crying when Tsy wrapped her tiny hand around his mother’s pinky. Kalin’s first word, sweets, since that was what you always called him, and Tsyeym’s, fuck, curtesy of Lo’ak and Spider’s babysitting, which Neteyam prohibited afterwards, and although you tried to hide it - you found it a little funny. All of these things and more, 8 years of memories, of love and care, of adoration and awe, all overwhelming, all pulsating through Neteyam’s mind like electrical shocks, waking him like from a nightmare. 
“Neteyam?”
When his amber eyes reopened, the kids were gone, much to his dismay, but he was comforted by the sight of you, his beautiful love, his beautiful light. 
“Atan!” 
Your human face looked scared, and confused, and sad, but Neteyam couldn’t care less, not when he felt like he hasn’t seen you in a lifetime, not when the only thing he wanted to do was kiss you, like Dean kissed Rory in that episode of Gilmore Girls you loved. He didn’t think twice about your size, about how in your human body, you were as tall as a Na’vi girl, how even in the forest, your face was unencumbered by the weight of your oxygen mask. He didn’t think of anything, because none of it matter outside of you, outside of you and him and the love you shared. 
He ran to you, watching as every step made the ground glow in lustrous pastel colours and he smiled as he picked you up by your thighs and lifted you, pushing you to the tree your body was close to until your back hit it and you wrapped your legs around his hips. Your hands found his face and hair, like they always did, and your body melted into him, slowly relaxing, giving him a dazzling smile that took his breath away. 
“Hi.”
“Hi, Atan.”
The kiss was everything he needed and more, more than he could ever dream in this life and the next and everything that came after. It was hot and needy and desperate, and you were clinging to each other like you never wanted to let go, and he’d be damned if he ever would again. 
Tsireya took a look at your disheveled figure, putting all your effort into your chest compressions, and she nodded, determination overtaking any other emotion on her face. 
“Tell me what to do.”
“Alright. In the pouch, there is the little device with a human drawn on it. You see that blue lever, just pull on it, until the cover comes off.”
She did as she was told, and let out an excited yelp when what you told her would happen, happened. 
“I did it!” 
“That’s great, Tsireya. Now, inside, there are two pieces of… paper… yes, that’s right. I need you to look at the drawing on them, and remove the yellow film that is on them, and put the white strips on Neteyam’s body, exactly how it shows you in the picture. Make sure you press them down properly.” 
She manoeuvred around you so she can do what you told her, and eventually, the pads were on. It was up to the little contraption to do its job now. Neteyam’s life was in its tiny, inanimate hands. 
“Neteyam, stop.” 
“No, Atan, I can’t stop. I need you, I need you so badly.”
Neteyam felt you push him away, the same expression as earlier marring your beautiful face. You looked…scared.
“Neteyam, why are you here?” 
“What do you mean?”
“Fuck… if you’re here… that means… Shit.” 
Neteyam watched as you removed yourself from him, and no matter how disappointed, he helped put you back onto the ground. You put distance in between you, which Neteyam dreaded, and you were pacing around, seemingly out of your mind with worry.
“No… it can’t be.”
“What is going on, Atan? You’re scaring me.” 
“Neteyam, you can’t be here. You have to go. What is the last thing you remember?” 
Neteyam thought long and hard about it. Nothing… he couldn’t remember anything. He can remember moving to the Metkayina, and learning to swim. He can remember the beauty of the reef, he can remember you, hair blowing gracefully in the humid wind as you took to the new culture, he can remember a magical celebration where people danced and sang. That’s about it. 
“I can’t remember much… I just woke up here, back home. I walked through the clearing and saw our kids. Our kids, Atan! They are so beautiful, they look so much like both of us. They look exactly like what I imagined them to ever since I fell in love with you! I can’t believe I’m back home, I can’t believe this is happening. I thought I’d never be back here.” 
Your mouth fell slightly agape, looking somewhere behind him, and you looked like you were trying to process everything he was telling you. 
“…Kids… Our kids… you saw our kids?” 
“Yes, they were right there, laughing and chasing each other, just like we used to do, in the exact place we used to. It’s everything I have ever wanted, ever since the moment I knew how deeply and irrevocably in love with you I was, all I wanted was this. That moment right there, this moment right here.” 
Neteyam saw your lips quiver, trembling trying to keep in the tears that were threatening to spill out. Your brows were furrowed and you were looking at him in disbelief, like nothing about this made sense, like what he was feeling was wrong, and Neteyam couldn’t understand. He was finally home. You finally guided him home. 
You closed the distance in between you and pulled him into a hug, a tight hug that he immediately reciprocated. 
“I love you so much. I have missed you so much.” You were sobbing in his chest now, hot tears trickling down his torso. 
“But I need you to try to remember. You have to remember.”
Neteyam’s words caught in his throat as a loud boom almost knocked him to the ground, shaking the whole clearing, and he found it hard keeping upright. His first instinct, as it always was, was to shield you, so he grabbed your body in his and pushed you to the ground, towering over you with his body. 
“What is happening?” 
The world was losing focus around him, the edges of the clearing blurred and disappearing slowly from view. 
“Atan, what is happening?” 
You looked at him, eyes wide and he saw you shaking your head almost imperceptibly, biting on the inside of your lip aggressively. He brought his hand up to your face and caressed your lips softly with his thumb, tugging a little so you stopped hurting yourself. 
“What is it, Atan? What can’t you tell me? Why am I here? Why are we here?” 
“I’m here for you, Neteyam. You have to remember.” 
Neteyam was trying so hard, thinking so hard whilst the world was seemingly falling apart around him, around you both, and the only thing he could think of, the only think he knew, is that he didn’t want to leave you. He didn’t want to leave the meadow, or the kids. He was home, finally. He could finally live. 
“I will try to remember, Atan. I am not leaving you, I am not going anywhere. I will protect you and the kids. We’re never going to be apart again.”
You seemed pained at his words, but said no more as another quake shook the ground you were laying on. 
You watched as Neteyam’s body jerked violently for a second time, with no response. The deep fear and anguish, the dark thoughts were slowly creeping up on you again, as your mate wasn’t coming back to life, and it seemed again all efforts, all your hope was easily being dragged out to sea, out into the abyss, along your sanity and future.
“Please, please fuck! Please, just work. Goddamn it!” 
You continued CPR in between shocks, praying, begging Eywa for a chance. Please, Great Mother, you can’t do this. I’m begging you, please. Please! 
Beep. Beep. Beep. 
As you felt his heart beating in his chest again and heard it on the AED, you felt as if yours started beating again too. You stopped the chest compressions and moved your head close to his face, trying to see if he was breathing. A soft, subtle puff of air was being released from his nose every couple of seconds and you saw in shock as wet drips were falling on his beautiful, ethereal face.
Acid rain leaking from your eyes, pouring like tropical storms, never-ending, all-powerful and you couldn’t stop, couldn’t make them stop. You were wailing, crying harder than you ever have before as the man you loved came back from the dead, as his heartbeat was weak, but nevertheless present on your fingertips that were pushing against his throat, as your other hand went to his cheek that you caressed, trying to figure out if this was real, if he was really back. Your wails were so loud they were hurting your ears, but you couldn’t stop, you couldn’t make yourself stop, all you felt was enormous, earth-shattering grief, all the sorrow you suppressed flooding all of your senses, clouding your mind, pushing anything else down, melting it into the ground. The ache was coursing through your veins, poisoning every cell in your body until the was nothing left but this - it. You should be happy, you should be relieved, but as you watched the man you have known, you have loved every single day of your unpredictable, crazy, mercurial life, you realised how close he was, how close you were to losing him forever, to losing everything that kept you sane, kept you going. 
You saw it all: washing his dead body, preparing him for the funeral, removing his bracelet, the bracelet that signified your love and your bond, the family dressed in mournful garbs, having to let him go, giving his body to the ocean, having to sing his songcord one last time, never being able to see him again, only having to settle for scraps, for a memory, or for a vision at the Spirit Tree. You saw yourself, a widow forever, never being able to move on, never being able to be happy, ever again, because he was happiness, and he was everything and he was gone. You saw your future - never having children, because if they weren’t his - what was the point? You saw his family, ruptured and torn apart by the loss of their son, their sibling, their hero, their best friend. You saw Lo’ak, carrying the guilt for the rest of his life, rebelling against his father, going on a dark path it was near impossible to turn him back from. You saw Neytiri, broken after another loss, the worst loss a mother could ever feel, never fully recovering, never truly being the same again. You saw Tuk and Kiri withdraw into themselves, the light they carried with them everywhere they went snuffed out at the calamitous loss. You saw it all and it killed you, it gutted you from the inside out. 
But he was here. He was still here. Everything you saw, every nightmare your mind made you watch, laughing as you suffered, revelling in it, like it always was, it was just that - a nightmare. A parallel universe you never had to live through. Because he was here. He’s just sleeping. 
You knew you didn’t have time to waste. You had to go back, you had to warm his body and clean his wounds, you had to remove any scraps the bullet left behind in his organs, you had to give him blood. There was still too much to do, and he needed you. You didn’t have time to fully fall apart just yet. 
“Tsireya, we need to take him back to the village, we need to go, now. Just help me put him on Neyn, please.”
“I…I’ve never been on an Ikran before.” 
If you weren’t so dazed and out-of-your-mind, you would have scoffed at that. 
“Oh, I think you have, too.”
You didn’t have to look at the Metkayina girl to feel the embarrassment in her cheeks and her tail swish vigorously. 
“I’ll make sure your parents know this is the first time, ok? I’m a great liar. Just please get on.”
Between the two of you, you managed to place Neteyam’s still unmoving, still unconscious body on your beautiful banshee, and you all got on, trying your best to cage his body so that he wouldn’t fall. 
“I’ll tell her to go slow and steady, just hold on to her kuru (queue) and you’ll be fine.”
Ok, sweet girl. We have to get back. Please go gently. Hurry.
Neyn trilled in your direction, and you can tell she was worried and stressed through the bond. You didn’t know if it was just a mirror of your own mind or if she was feeling it too. Neyn loved Neteyam. He was always nice to her, and considerate and attentive. Neyn also loved Seze, and the thought of Seze being without her chosen Na’vi, being alone, the rest of her life, hurt Neyn. It hurt you, too. It hurt you so badly, in fact, your body was convulsing slightly, pain deep within your abdomen, that almost made your ikran lose her focus, and she wobbled a little midair, which made Tsireya scream. 
“It’s alright, you’re ok. We’re ok.”
You rushed to your marui as soon as Neyn landed and you saw Seze make her way to you as well. Poor girl. You and Neteyam might not have a spirit brother like Lo’ak now did, but these two, they were it for you. You and Neteyam had a bond with your ikran that transcended time, space and species, and you would never be able to replace them, as long as you lived. 
The first thing you needed was blood. He needed blood. You got out an empty blood bag and the tube, as well as a needle and syringe. You’d have to work fast, and you’d have to operate on him while the blood was being withdrawn, which will hurt, but you had to take the risk, he didn’t have much time. 
“Tsireya, listen to me. I need to give Neteyam blood. My blood. I need you to take that little ribbon and tighten it around my arm, below my bracelet. It needs to be so tight it hurts, do you understand? When I tell you, you need to remove it. Then, as soon as I put the needle in and the blood starts flowing, we will need to clean him and I will patch him up, ok?” 
Tsireya looked lost and trembling, her bottom lip quivering uncontrollably, but she nodded meekly, looking around at all the things she did not understand or know, deep panic on her features.
“Good girl.” As soon as she did what you asked, you found a vein and watched as deep, violent red liquid flowed softly from your body to the bag. The Metkayina girl gasped, but said nothing, just looking at the blood like in a trance, removing the tourniquet when you told her.
“It’s ok. This will help him. But we need to hurry. It takes about ten minutes for it to fill, maybe a bit longer since I will be using my arm at the same time.” 
You got to work immediately, cleaning and disinfecting the area where he lay, prepping all of your tools and asking Tsireya to be your scrub nurse for the day. You cleaned his body, bloodied and bruised, trying to not focus on how it was making you nauseous, making your mind sick and dizzy with worry and pain, and you knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You were too emotionally involved to be the one doing this, but there was no one else. Not Norm, not Max. Not Claire, or Tim, no one else. You took the scalpel and made a cut into his skin, asking Tsireya to cauterise wherever she saw bleeds. She was naturally good at this, you noted and you smiled at this girl who has only known you and Neteyam for a few months and yet here she was, crying and shaking, doing everything in her power to save your family from harm. You knew Lo’ak was a big reason for it, but not the only reason. You really liked her. 
You diligently removed all the shards and shrapnel the bullet left behind, and sutured every layer until his back was patched up. Somehow, the bullet missed his heart, and the main arteries, which you felt was Eywa’s doing. It had to be. Eywa wanted him to live, she had to. Because this wasn’t balance. Nothing about your lives has ever been balanced, and it would take a lot of good to equilibrate all the fucked up shit both you and him, your entire family has been through. So Neteyam had to live. 
Once the blood bag was full, you removed the needle from your body and got up, realising quickly you shouldn’t be standing up, falling to the ground with a thud. Shit. You once again had to turn to Tsireya for help, and she managed to hang the bag somewhere above you, so that the liquid could flow freely into Neteyam’s body. You waited until you turned him chest up, and then inserted the needle, allowing the blood to move through his now beating heart. Your blood. Your blood ran through his body, through his heart. Your blood will save him, like your hands did, like your body had to. You were about to collapse after losing so much, but knowing you were the reason he was still here empowered you. It was just you and him. Just you and him, in this whole world, for the rest of time.
It was hard having to turn him upside down without disturbing him or hurting him further, but eventually you and Tsireya managed to, and you did the same procedure on his chest, until that was also completely closed and clean. Your hands were trembling, and your suture ruptured a few times in his body, and it took every ounce of self-restrain you had to not cry, not to collapse in a puddle on the floor, to not scream in agony, not ask the Universe what the hell could you have ever done to deserve going through all of this? Nobody should have to go through having to lose a dad and a mate in one day, no one should have to fight tooth and nail to keep them from crossing to the other side, to patch their brokenness, whilst yours flourished and bloomed like deadly nightshade. You had to endure more in 19 years than most people do in their lives, more grief embellished your being than there were beads adorning Na’vi bodies. You were feeling sorry for yourself, and for once in your life, you didn’t want to stop, you didn’t want to have to pull yourself back together, you didn’t want to be strong anymore. You were tired. 
When you finished, you were spent, hours upon hours passing you by. You felt pain in your body everywhere, kicking at your insides like a monster waiting to crawl out of you with every push. You were cramping and the whole world turned around you, and you knew you were going to pass out from exhaustion. You went to your mat, anxiety enveloping you in knowing there was nothing else you could possibly do for Neteyam at the moment, and called for your turquoise friend. 
“Tsireya, when…if… the family gets back, you tell them they need to call Norm and Max. Tell them they need to get here as soon as possible. I can’t do this by myself.” You felt the world dissolving before you as you spoke, and allowed it to fully dissipate away from view, embracing the feeling of nothingness, because nothing meant no pain, and no images of your dead mate, and your dead dad, and you were happy with that. 
You woke up in a daze, faintly recognising the slur of voices blending together into one indistinctive blabber, that you tried with your whole might to decipher. You tried to open your eyes, but they were so heavy it felt like lifting weights back in the lab complex as a human. Eventually, your senses recovered and you were able to both see and hear the Sullys, as well as Norm and Max chatting to each other, huddled over Neteyam’s body. 
“She’s awake!” Tuk’s voice startled you, and seeing her approaching you excitedly tugged at your heart. My Tuk-tuk…
“Oh, Great Mother, thank you! Ma ‘ite!” Neytiri crouched next to your limp body and hugged you, and you winced as every part of you she was touching hurt. You saw scratches and bruises all over your body from the battle, that you were too preoccupied to notice before. 
“Sa’nok.” She sobbed in your chest, releasing all the anguish of thinking she has lost two kids in one night. “I’m ok, sa’nok. I’m here.” 
“You saved him! You saved him, I thought we lost him! I thought I lost him!” Her cries were ringing painfully in your ear, the sadness in them close to tearing you apart. 
“Is he…?” 
Jake came over and kneeled next to you, tears in his own eyes. The whole family looked exhausted, spent, physically and mentally, and you counted them quickly, sighing deeply when you found them all to be here, in the tent. 
“He’s still asleep, kid. What happened?” 
“I should ask you the same thing.” 
You moved next to Neteyam, holding his hand, just needing to feel him, and his now much stronger pulse, and spent the next while explaining everything you have had to do and watched as their mouths got progressively more agape in shock. Then they watched yours do the same as Jake told you what happened on the ship. 
“He’s dead, kid. He’s finally dead. Whatever else happens, at least Quaritch will never haunt this family ever again.” 
Your eyes immediately moved to Spider, and you felt a tinge of sadness for the boy who also had to lose his father, just like you have. No matter what, no matter what atrocities this man committed, you knew better than most than the love doesn’t go away, it runs deep and the water of an underwater cavern, hidden from view and light, but there, nevertheless. You were surprised, though, when upon looking at him, you saw him shifting uncomfortably, looking everywhere but you and your family, picking at his cuticles. It was a bad habit you shared, but one that gave away nervousness, anxiety - guilt. What the hell did you do, Spider?
“How long have I been out?”
“About a day?” 
You turned to Max and Norm, who were dutifully listening to everything, and you could tell how overwhelming it all was to them, how crazy and mind numbing and revolting. But it was life, your life. Your life. 
“How is he?”
All of the attention shifted back onto Neteyam, who looked like he was resting. He looked… happy. Peaceful. You hoped whatever he was going through, it was better than this abusive reality, and you hope he could finally rest, until he was ready to come back to you. 
“He’s in a coma, Ace.” You gasped a little, and another stabbing pain shot through you. “Look here.” He rose the portable EEG he had in his hands and scanned Neteyam’s brain from a distance. 
Your breath stopped as you took in the information on the screen.
“He’s in a hypoxic-ischaemic coma.” 
“W-what does that mean?” 
You gulped loudly before you answered Jake. 
“It means that his brain didn’t have enough oxygen after his heart stopped.” What you didn’t want to tell him is how few people actually come back from that, and come back the same way they left. You exchanged a look with Norm and saw the imperceptible head shake he gave in your direction, and once again, felt pain stabbing you everywhere in your body. 
“B-but he’ll be alright, no? He’ll wake up and it’ll be alright?” 
You lied to yourself as much as to them. “Yes. Yes, he’ll be alright.” 
Neteyam woke up startled, deep nightmares still fresh in his mind, nightmares of a battle, of a ship, of blood dripping over him and on the floor, pain shooting through him ceaselessly. Images of his mother screaming that haunted him, images of your forlorn face as the last thing on his mind before it all ended. He breathed a sigh of relief as he took in the familiar beauty of your meadow and took in the two small bodies resting against his own, nuzzled in his chest. He was ok. Everything was ok. He was home, his kids were safe. The voice humming peacefully blessed his ears, and he knew then that you were also safe. It was just a nightmare. 
He quietly untangled himself from his kids’ grasps, that ended up cuddling each other back to sleep, paying little mind to their dad. He took in the sight that swelled his heart so much he felt it was going to explode out of his chest. He has never been happier. He couldn’t imagine life getting any better. 
“I didn’t know if you’d come back.” Your voice was soft and angelic, like it always was, but your words confused him. 
“What do you mean? Where else would I go?” 
You sighed, but patted the spot next to you so he could join you. You looked over at the two little beings sleeping peacefully a few feet from you.
“So these are our kids, huh?”
Further confusion enwrapped Neteyam like a quilt. He didn’t understand most words that were coming out of your mouth. 
“So you want two kids? Not three? I always thought you wanted a whole football team.” You say almost to yourself, laughing a little with your hand brought to your mouth in amusement. 
“Atan, what is going on? I don’t understand what you are saying. You’re acting like you don’t know our kids.” 
You smiled a little in his direction, a sorrowful smile, but as you brought your hand up to his face and caressed his cheek in the way you always did, in the way that calmed his mind and set his skin ablaze, all the worry left him. 
“They’re beautiful. So beautiful. Perfect mix of you and me. You know, I used to think about our kids, think about the impossible scenario that you and me could bring life into this crazy world, but they’re so much better than my imagination ever was. Pure and good, unlike the world they’ll never get to see.”
Neteyam didn’t have time to question you, not when the little bundles of joy in question rose sleepily and tackled you both, squeals and happy screams filling up the forest. 
“Mummy! Daddy! You’re both here! We missed you, mum!” 
“Did you, now?” Neteyam looked at you, and you looked like you were struggling to adjust to the new development, like you were trying to thread the ground and the situation carefully. You looked…uncomfortable. Why were you uncomfortable around your own children? Neteyam’s seen you with Tuk a million times, you were great with children. He couldn’t help the seed of doubt and fear that was growing in his belly, making him nervous. What was going on?
“Let’s swim, all of us! We haven’t swam together in a long time!” Tsyeym pushed to her feet and grabbed you both with all her might, trying to will you towards the river. He watched as you relented, and eventually got up, grabbing her on the way and bringing her up into your arms. 
“Wait a second. Let me have a look at you.” You analysed the little girl, your little girl, every feature and freckle on her face. You poked her small nose with your index finger and traced it on her face, on her perfect pink plush lips and her yellow eyes, to her braided hair. You gently grabbed her queue and laughed a little as Tsyeym shrieked - it tickled her. “So you’re my little baby girl? You are the most beautiful thing in the world, aren’t you?” You turned to Neteyam, and he noticed you holding back tears. You looked happy. “She has my eyes. My mother’s eyes.” 
Neteyam nodded, confusion still gnawing at him. “Of course she does. Your eyes are the most incredible things I have ever seen in my life. They are like treasures - my treasures.” 
“Just like she is.” You held her against your chest and Neteyam watched as his daughter made a home out of it, so stuck to you he didn’t think he could ever separate you again. 
“Tsyeym (treasure). That should be her name.”
“Atan… that is her name.” 
“And what about this mighty warrior?” Kalin ran to his mother, grabbing onto your leg and holding on, attaching himself to you much like Tsyeym did. You kneeled, with Tsy still in your arms, and did a similar inspection of his son as you just did a few minutes ago. You took him by the hand and twirled him around, taking in every aspect of his being. “Look at this hair! My hair. Tsyeym has your hair, but he has mine. And look at those stripes, just like mummy and daddy, like a little tiger. Come here.” You kissed his entire face, starting with his nose and all around, ending with his human-coloured eyes and the top of his head.
“Why do you taste so sweet? You’re a sweetie pie, aren’t you? You’re mine, my sweet.”
You looked up at Neteyam, like you just had the most brilliant idea. “Kalin!! His name has to be Kalin (Sweet to the taste)!” 
Why did you keep doing that? Those were their names, their names you gave them at birth. He was going to ask you what the hell was going on with you, when a loud sound boomed in the sky. It sounded like thunder, but not quite. It must have been thunder, what else could it be? The kids screaming got his undivided attention, and he rushed to their side to comfort them both, grabbing Kalin is his arms and holding him while he saw you doing the same with your baby girl. 
“Shh, it’s alright. It’s alright, we’re alright.” 
“What was that?”
“My love, you need to remember. Please. I’m here for you.”
“I know you are, Atan. I just don’t know what you want me to remember. Can you please tell me?” 
“I can’t, Neteyam. You have to figure it out yourself. You have to try harder. We don't have a lot of time. Please. I am here for you.” 
The river adventure removed the anxiety rising in Neteyam’s chest, and he concluded the boom he heard was just particularly nasty thunder. Thunderstorms were not uncommon in the forest, and the sooner his babies got used to them and realised they were nothing to be afraid of - the better. There was no reason to let it come between them and the perfect day they were having. After a couple hours, you were all soaked, so much laughter and joy Neteyam’s mouth hurt from how much it was stretching to accommodate the unwavering smile refusing to leave his face. Eventually, his family was all too tired to go on, and you all stretched on the grass, huddled together, arms and legs intertwined so thoroughly, it was impossible to tell who was who anymore. 
“Mummy, can you sing for us? It’s nap time!” 
“Is it nap time already? Sure, sweets. I can sing.” 
In her waters, deep and true
Lie the answers and a path for you
Dive down deep into her sound
But not too far or you'll be drowned
“Neteyam…” you were hunched over your mate’s body, alone with just him, alone at last to pour your soul out and hope he would hear you, hope there was a chance. You had to try. 
“Neteyam… please. I know you are in pain, and I know how much this life takes and takes from you. I know you’re probably at peace wherever you are, but you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you. I know it’s selfish, so selfish, but I need you to please come back to me. I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard, but you have to come back. I can’t live knowing all I’ll ever get is scraps of you, scraps of us. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after I’ve seen the future, so clear and bright in my head. Not after knowing everything I’ll lose if I lose you.” 
You walked to the edge of the platform and sat down next to your favourite two scientists, that you were so happy to see, and so sad it was always under such undesirable circumstances. 
“How is he?” 
“Pretty much the same.” You dunked your feet in the water with a sigh, looking at the way the fish swam in between them, some of them tickling you as they went past. 
“How are you? We didn’t even get to give you a check and make sure everything’s alright. You gave him a lot of blood.”
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I did what I had to do.”
“You saved his life, Ace. He was dead and you brought him back to life. You did it.” 
“Maybe. Maybe I just revived his heart so he could be a vegetable for the rest of time. Maybe all I did is prolong the inevitable and give his family false hope.”
“Don’t say that. He’ll wake up.” 
You rolled your eyes and huffed annoyed in Max’s direction. 
“Come on, Max. We’re all scientists here. What are the chances someone comes back from hypoxic-ischaemic coma? Roughly 70% of people die. And of the 30% that make it, most of them have severe brain damage, that impacts most aspects of their lives.”
“That’s human statistics, Ace. Human statistics have no business here on Pandora. You know that. You of all people should know that. You died. You were without oxygen for 30 minutes, and you came back, after chatting to your mum in the afterlife and her telling you the cure for a deadly virus. You should have faith, Ace. Faith in yourself, in Neteyam…faith in Eywa.” 
You couldn’t take another word on the subject, not when you were so close to fully breaking down in front of them, so you chose another - easier to digest, if not as hard to talk about. 
“Did Jake and Neytiri go get my dad?” 
“Yes. They all went. They should be back soon.”
“Lo’ak said you… went to save him. What happened?” 
“He… he’s not who I thought he was. Not who I spent my whole life hating. I was wrong about him. I was so wrong.” 
You told them everything that happened after he left you the message, and they listened attentively and gasped softly at every turn of events. 
“I… I couldn’t save him. He bled out in front of me. I will never get a chance to make it right. He’ll never get a chance to make it right. I wanted him to stay. I thought we could finally be a family. I thought I could allow him to finally have a daughter, a daughter that stays, a daughter that he got to watch live. I wanted him to be a grandpa. I imagined him teaching my kids about Earth, babysitting when Neteyam and I wanted time for ourselves. I don’t know why, but I feel like he would have been the best grandpa. He saved us, he saved me. He was redeeming himself, he could have been one of the people. We were supposed to be a family. I was supposed to have a family.” 
You didn’t even realise you were crying until Norm reached over and wiped the tears off your face with his thumb. They didn’t have anything to say. There was nothing, no comforting words, no words of encouragement that would ever mend this, that would ever make this less painful than it was. 
Your attention shifted onto the Tsurak that flew above water, a burst of orange in a sea of blue. Behind it were a couple of ilu and in the air, Neytiri’s ikran was flying majestically. 
Jake reached your marui first, followed closely by the rest of the Sullys. You got up to help him unload your dad’s body, wrapped beautifully in mangrove leaves and colourful shroud and placed on a stretcher made out of woven tree branches. 
He was hidden from you, but it didn’t matter - your imagination was more than enough to paint him right in front of your mind’s eye, bloated and bloodied, wet and dirty from having been left on a rock for 2 days. You just left him there. By himself. You passed out and left your own dad to rot, the same way he did the first time - alone. Your mind was torturing you, the way it always loved to, and you knew this image would be tattooed in your brain, alongside that of Neteyam’s eyes going vacant as you watched, for as long as you lived. No matter how much you healed, no matter how much old nightmares faded, there were always new ones to take their place, new nightmares to show you you will never outrun your trauma. Not now, not soon, not for the rest of your life. 
“We talked to Tonowari and Ronal, baby girl. We explained, we told them what Lo’ak and Spider told us, about how your dad fought alongside us, how he saved your lives, and he will be allowed a Metkayina funeral. This way he will be with Eywa.”
Your tears that never ceased multiplied, and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips. 
“Thank you.” You ran into Jake’s arms and he hugged you tightly, stroking your hair gently in a comforting gesture. “Thank you so much. Thank you.” 
“Of course, kid. Your dad was a good man, and he deserves to be with your mother again.” 
You brought him to the Tsahik’s tent, and watched as they undid all the wrappings, until he was in view, and although not as bad as you imagined, he didn’t look good. You knew decomposition worked faster in water than on land, but you never thought you’d have to witness it first hand, and definitely not with your dad. 
“Go, kid. We can clean him up.”
You shook your head, not removing your eyes from his body. You left him there, you had to do this.
You knelt on the ground next to him, and Ronal guided you through the required steps and rituals, until he was ready, a few hours later. He looked a lot better when you were done, and you smiled softly, allowing the salty tears to stain your mouth. He looked peaceful. You didn’t think he felt peace in his whole life, so you were at least grateful he could experience it now. 
“We will do the funeral ceremony tonight. We will take him to the Cove of the Ancestors after Eclipse.” 
Another stabbing pain shot through you, and you wondered how much longer your body would keep going under this amount of strenuous stress. How long until all this heartbreak broke your body down beyond repair? 
You returned to your tent, getting ready for the ceremony, allowing your family to paint you in funeral markings, allowing them to dress you in ceremonial garbs, an ornate shawl covering your shoulders - all while you were holding Tuk in your lap. You were cold, you noted absentmindedly. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt cold, but there is was - shivers, like ice water in your veins, running down your spine, extending to each extremity, making a home in your bones. 
You needed Neteyam. You needed him to be here, you needed him to be your light, to guide you through this time, to hold you and keep you warm as you had to give your dad to the sea, and say goodbye - forever. But he didn’t budge from his spot on the mat, breathing in and out deeply and regularly. He’s just sleeping. Just sleeping.
Neteyam was cold as he woke up from another horrible dream, a similar dream, a deathly dream he couldn’t shake from his mind no matter how much he tried. He kept being pulled in and out of consciousness, it seemed, and he wondered meekly if anything was wrong. Some things felt wrong. Just a little wrong. He took a look at you, buried in his arms, sleeping peacefully next to him, and gasped as your face brought back another dream, so vivid and lucid, it was like it wasn’t a dream at all, like it was a… a memory. 
As much as he missed home, Neteyam had to admit little managed to beat waking up in this marui, where the sun was shining through the intricate web of fabrics, creating colourful moving patterns and where the salty air cleared his nose immediately and woke him up with newfound enthusiasm for a new day of discovering all the new ways this place differed from his own. His entire family was fast asleep, and he sighed contently when he felt your breath tickling his neck and your arms and legs draped loosely across his body. He couldn’t help the excited movement of his tail taking you in, knowing he got to wake up next to you every day, that he’d never have to live without this feeling ever again, that he got to call you his mate, his light… his. For life. He kissed the top of you head and watched as you stirred, waking up from your slumber with a haphazard stretch of all your limbs. When your amber eyes met his and your tired smile made its way to your lips, his heart stopped. You were so beautiful. 
“Good morning, my love. Did anyone ever tell you it’s ok to not wake up at the crack ass of dawn?” 
He smiled, trying to keep quiet so as to not disturb the rest of his family. 
“I’m too excited to see you to sleep, Atan.”
You rolled your eyes at him, letting out an amused scoff. He rolled on top of you, pinning you down with his body. You gasped at the feeling of his hard-on rubbing against your core and he smiled at the way your pupils immediately dilated and your breath shallowed, rolling your hips to meet his. 
“Atan, it’s the crack ass of dawn, what are you doing?” 
“You started it.” 
“You’re insatiable, you know that?” 
“Hey, I have had to live for years wanting you and not being able to have you. You have a lot to make up for.” 
He laughed again and laughed some more when you pressed your hand tightly against his mouth as his mother turned slightly in her sleep.
“How about we go for a swim, just you and me? Then I’ll make it up to you for as long as you like.”
You raised your head slightly to close the gap in between you and the kiss brought life into him, brought light into every corner of his being until there was nothing left of him but this feeling, the feeling of you overtaking his every sense. 
He was panting as the dream faded, panic overtaking him. What was that? It felt so real. So raw. Not a dream. A memory. Your amber eyes, your blue striped skin. He looked at the version of you sleeping in his arms, human, the same human he’s known all his life, the human he fell in love with. The skin he traced with his eyes, the freckles adorning it that Neteyam knew by heart, your hair that flowed softly down your back and tickled his arm where it touched it. Your eyes that were your mother’s, the thing you loved most about yourself - that he loved most about you. The body you left behind when you did your consciousness transfer. 
How were you here? In his arms? How was it possible? 
“My love, you need to remember. Please. I’m here for you.”
Remember what? What couldn’t he remember? Why couldn’t he remember? 
“Ace, come here. Look at this.” You were about to leave for your dad’s funeral when Norm pulled you aside, showing you the EEG scanning Neteyam’s brain waves. “Look at it.” 
You did and your eyes widened as your brain processed what it was seeing. “He’s… seizing?” 
“Those are ictal epileptiform discharges. He’s definitely seizing.”
“But his body is still.”
“Not all seizures manifest the same way. There are non-motor seizures, as well. But the waves don’t lie, Ace. He’s seizing. And we can’t know for sure, because we didn’t see Kiri’s brain when she seized, but I think it’s the same kind of seizures. She had interictal activity in her prefrontal when we got to her.”
Your brain felt like it was short-circuiting taking in all of the information and trying to process it, at the same time as dealing with the horrible pain shooting through you and the heartbreak of having to bury your dad without your mate by your side. The world was fading around you, but you knew you had to push through, at least until the end of the ceremony. 
If Neteyam’s seizures were the same as Kiri’s, maybe the coma was a lot more than what they thought, than what you thought. Maybe it has something to do with Eywa. Could it be? That he was trapped, just like your mum had been? Could it be that you could find him? Finally see him again? That you could get him back?
Your body quickly caught up to you as the pain became unbearable, and you screamed loudly without meaning to as you felt cramping in your abdomen, like life was being torn away from you with every second passing. The marui and everyone around it quickly disappeared from view, and you felt yourself collapse to the ground and into deep slumber. Maybe you could finally rest. 
You woke up confused and numb. The world slowly came back into focus, as did your family members going in between you and Neteyam, unable to figure out who they should worry for at any current moment. You glanced at your arm and then above you, and said a silent prayer of gratitude for Norm and Max, who decided to give you some morphine for the pain. As Lo’ak took note of your cognisance, he let out a scream that came out more like a pained yelp. 
“She’s awake. She’s awake.” 
Jake rushed to your side and took your face in both his hands, alarmingly checking on you, eyes darting over every piece of you they could cover. Then a look of deep sorrow replaced his previous one, and you felt the panic rise in you once more, not enough morphine in the world to keep the ugly feeling at bay. 
“What happened?” Was Neteyam ok? Was everyone ok? What else could possibly be wrong? It didn’t feel like there was anything in this world that could make this whole ordeal somehow worse.
“You… You passed out, kid.”
Norm’s body was trailing all around you, checking on your vitals and on the other IV you know realised were flowing into your body from various sites. 
“Just please tell me. You’re looking at me like you have something to tell me, and I just need to know. Please. I just need to know.” 
“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m so, so sorry.” 
Your entire family encircled you, holding onto you, your arms, your hands, your legs. Looking at you sorrowfully, mournfully, and you felt like you were one sentence away from passing out again. 
Max spoke. “The stress… everything you went through the past couple of days, it put a lot of strain on your body. A lot more than it could take.”
“Honey… you had a miscarriage.” 
You were wrong, you thought as you felt the consciousness slip away from your grasp once more. There was one thing in this world that could make this whole ordeal somehow worse.
Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett
*poem by Nikki Ursula - Seventy Years of Sleep #4
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noodyl-blasstal · 5 months
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King of the (bouncy) Castle
It's @taznovembercelebration day 17 and today I drew the prompt "soft"
Read below or on Ao3 if you prefer. Missed yesterday's? Find it here.
-
“Ko!” Lup yells from the hall.
“What?” He screams from his bedroom, because he’s still deciding on what to wear and if it’s that urgent she can come in.
“Do you know anyone else?”
“In general? Or?”
“Don’t be a dick. Do you know anyone who can come today?”
“Why?”
“Magnus had to drop out.”
“We can win without him.”
“A team is four people.”
“Ask Dav.”
“He’s racing today”
“Lucretia?”
“She just laughed until I hung up. It was a solid 3 minutes.”
“Merle?”
“I’m going to need you to work from the assumption that I have remembered our joint friends with whom we spend all our time”
“But seriously, Merle.”
“Taako, I have tried everyone we jointly know. He said he was going to be busy in the greenhouse, and then he said some other things. Would you like me to tell you what those other things are? Because I can. I can tell you exactly what he had planned for the onions because he told me because I had him on speaker phone and I got trapped in my shirt and he said a lot of words before I could hang up. They’re burned into my brain forever and cha’girl is happy to share that burden.”
“No! Lulu, don’t! I’ll cast silence.”
“I’ll counterspell it. Now start thinking of people.”
“Angus?”
“I also know Angus, and he’s a literal child.”
“He’s, what, 6 now?”
“He’s eleven, Taako, you baked him a cake in the shape of the number for his birthday two weeks ago.” There’s no need for Lup to slander him like this.
“Eleven! That’s basically an adult for humans, right?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are you going to stop doing special magic boy lessons with him because he’s all grown up now?” Lup goes for the jugular. He doesn’t have to stand for this cruelty, for the implication that he actually likes spending time with the baby.
“What aboutttt… erm…” Taako changes the topic seamlessly and casts his mind furiously about for a name, any name, of a person Lup wouldn’t have already called. There’s one that popped up as soon as Lup asked and he’s trying his best to see round it but it keeps sidling into his eye line. He can’t though. It’d be a disaster. “Errrrr… Brian.”
“No. Absolutely anyone else.”
“What’s wrong with Brian?”
“He’s in a cult!”
“But apart from the cult stuff he’s lovely.”
“Taako! Do you want to win or not?”
Fine. Fine! Taako does very much want to win, especially after Lydia tripped him last year.
“Kravitz.” He says it fast, like he’s ripping off a plaster. Maybe Lup won’t put two and two together.
“The guy from work?”
“No?”
“Oh, you know another Kravitz, do you?”
“Yes?”
“Is any of that supposed to have convinced me?”
“Is it working?”
“No.”
“Fuck.”
“So… different Kravitz? How do you know Kravitz-Who’s-Not-From-Work? Why do you have a way of getting in touch with him?” Lup’s going to cling to this an unnecessary amount.
“Ooooh are we talking about Kravitz?” Barry, fucking Barry, asks. Wandering his ass right into their private conversation.
“This is a private conversation, Barold.” Yells Taako through the door of his room into the hall of their too-small shared apartment.
“Would you like me to put my noise cancelling headphones on?” Barry asks, earnestly, like he’d actually fucking do it if Taako said yes.
“Absolutely not, Barry, You live in this house and you have every right to be in this hallway.” Lup snaps. She’s still mad about last time Taako forgot to tell Barry he could take the headphones off. In his defence, he made him a cake about it. A jake, in fact, with edible press studs. Barry loved it! Plus, he was listening to one of his lectures, he was fine, happy as a clam!
“Fine.” Taako threw up his hands, no one could see him, but it felt important to do it anyway, you know, for the drama. He couldn’t argue with this, he didn’t have a choice, he may as well give in and call Kravitz, they’ve both worked together to twist his arm. “You’re making me do this though. It’s not because I want to. I’ve been compelled.”
“What?” Says Barry, perplexed. “I thought we were just talking about your crush.”
“His what?” Says Lup.
Taako springs forward and manages to flick the lock across the second before Lup tries the handle.
“You’re in love with death?” She tries the handle a few more times, as if it’ll jiggle the lock free.
“A man isn’t his job, Lup.” Taako shouts back. Denying everything.
“That wasn’t a no!”
“I have to ring him, because you’re making me. Or do you not want to win Bounce Off 2: Bounce in the City?”
There’s grumbling from the other side of the door followed by a muttered “c’mon Barold,” fakeout. Taako’s wise to it though, so he isn’t shocked by her ‘one last try’ of the door handle, or the second attempt that follows after she does fake footsteps away from the door.
“Fine! He’d better be down though and good.”
“He’s tall.” Says Barry, conversationally. He’d better not plan on telling Lup anything else.
“Good. We can use height.Is he strong?” Lup asks.
Kravitz is strong, Taako knows that for normal reasons, reasons like he can carry a lot of pastries when he orders them; and that time he helped Taako move the big table when someone spilled and he had to clean under it. Not reasons like all the time he spends staring at Kravitz’s forearms, and his thighs, and his everything else. Because he doesn’t do that. Taako would never.
“Fine. Don’t answer me.” Lup actually leaves this time, Taako pretends he can’t hear Barry telling her about Kravitz and his newfound love of coffee and baked goods.
Taako [10:23] Yo stud got a minute to chat?
It was only polite to text first, he doesn’t want to jumpscare Kravitz with a phone call, he isn’t a sadist. The three dots flashed up immediately. Thank fuck he’s awake at the crack of dawn.
Bones [10:24] Dear Taako, Of course, I’ve always got time for you. All best, Kravitz.
Taako has been trying hard not to find his ridiculous dork texts endearing. He’s failing. Badly. He ignores the squooshy feeling it gives him and hits the call button instead.
“Hello Taako, it’s lovely to hear from you!” Says Kravitz like he actually means it.
“Hey Krav, quiiiiiick q for ya. What’re you doing this morning?”
“I’m just practising.” Of course he is. Why wouldn’t Kravitz be sat straddling his giant instrument right now? Taako’s mature though, he won’t make a joke about it.
“Can’t keep your hands off your instrument, shameful!” Fuck.
“Well, someone has to keep it in tune.”
Gods, he wasn’t supposed to play along. Why did he keep flirting back? Was this whole thing actually plausible?
“Wanna spend some time with Taako instead?”
“I’d be very interested in that.” Kravitz says, buttery and glorious.
“How do you feel about inflatables?”
There’s a long pause.
“It’s not a sex thing.” Taako says, to make it less weird.
“I’m not sure that makes what you said less weird, Taako.”
“You know, like bouncy castles.”
“Okay.” Kravitz doesn’t sound particularly convinced.
“And my sister will be there.”
There’s another pause. “...And Barry?”
“Obviously.”
“Uh huh.”
Fuck, Taako’s losing him, and it’s suddenly incredibly important that Kravitz not only agree to this, but is also enthusiastic about it. “It’s a competition.” Says Taako.
“Oh?” Of course that piqued his interest, Kravitz loves competition. He tries to help harder than any other customer, tip better than anyone else, and he races people in the street.
“We lost last year, but we’ve been in training.”
“You’ve been in bouncy castle training?”
“Obstacle course training… and also trampolines.”
“Is that what the weird squeaking is when we’re on the phone sometimes?”
“What?”
“You know, the calls where you’re all breathy and there’s the squeaking noise.”
Taako didn’t realise Kravitz had picked up on that. “You didn’t think…?”
“Well now I know it’s not a sex thing.”
“You thought it was a sex thing and you stayed on the phone?”
“I don’t judge.”
“You didn’t wanna ask Taako what he was up to?”
“I know you’re a private person.”
“Not if you think Taako’s doing sex things on the phone without your consent. In fact, that’s the least private a person can be.”
“You make a compelling point.”
Taako doesn’t even begin to know what to do with that. “So… bouncing?”
“Where is it?”
“We can pick you up.”
“All three of you?”
“Barry said he’s sorry and he’ll stop asking about the ‘secret sauce.’”
“I just really don’t think it’s a respectful way to talk about embalming fluid.”
Taako thinks it’s a great way to refer to embalming fluid, but he also wants Kravitz to be happy. “He double pinky promised.”
“Oh, well if he double pinky promised.”
“Great! Pick you up in 20, wear something snazzy.”
Taako hangs up the phone before Kravitz can object or ask anything else. He has limited time and an outfit to re-plan.
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justagalwhowrites · 13 days
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i’m interested to see how joel would react to doc getting killed!! or bitten…. i love the angst tbh! 😅 maybe during that awkward time period where they weren’t really talking but still hooking up.. they still loved eachother so much couldn’t say it because they “hated” eachother 😮
OMG Hi Bestie! 
OK so because I'm a masochist (who shares in this fun hobby of tormenting myself with images of pain with someone who shall remain nameless) I've thought about this a lot. Shared below, with permission, is some of the noodling I've done on this topic with the aforementioned anonymous person who likes to give me INCREDIBLY ANGSTY AND DEPRESSING THOUGHT EXERCISES I SWEAR THIS IS A TWO WAY STREET Y'ALL. Please note that none of this is in story format and Doc is she instead of you because that's how I think about the fic in abstract terms? I guess? I don't know lol it's a mess in my head.
ANYWAY 
Putting this below the cut because it's probably a step beyond angst. I cannot stress enough that this is like... super depressing and also COMPLETELY RAW AND UNEDITED, all I did was pull out comments/prompts from the other person out of respect for them. So please limit your judgement as much as possible this stuff is real bad lol 
Below is Joel if she got bit on the Harvard run.
how terrified he was when he thought she might be bitten, how the first place his mind went was "I can kill her and I'll only need to be around for a few seconds after she's gone"If she got bit and he needed to kill her, he'd try so hard to keep it together for her. She'd be low key panicking and be like "Please don't let me turn into one of those things, please just kill me, please" and he'd just brush her hair back and hold her face in his hand all gentle and be like "I won't baby, not gonna let you go through that, OK? I've got you, it's OK. It'll be real quick, won't feel a thing and I'll be right behind you, OK? I'm right behind you, it's OK" and he'd hold her when he did it so she didn't feel alone and he'd keep holding her when he did it to himself, too
If Doc died in the tub the night that Joel left her in the QZ 
Joel is trying to avoid herTommy goes to the clinic that day and she's not there, which he expects because she's not supposed to be there on Sundays, but hears someone say her name and how they aren't sure how they're going to cover everything without her and there's a "...I still really miss her" at the end and he's like "wtf' and so he asks until he finds someone who will actually talk to him and he's like "no, we're old friends, I just haven't seen her in a few weeks, what happened?" and Marta just kinda looks at him like "how can you not know this" and says "She died. They weren't really sure how, if she did it on purpose or if she passed out but she drowned in her bathtub" and Tommy is, of course, reeling because he loved her, too. But he's also like "Oh fuck I have to tell Joel" and he's kind of in a daze and just walks around the QZ for a few hours and he gets home and Joel is just like "the fuck is your problem" and he's like "Joel... brother, you... I need you to sit down, OK? Need you to just... stay calm for me, OK?" and he says her name and then kinda stops and Joel gets this bad feeling and is like "what" and Tommy is quiet and he's like "what, Tommy. What is it. She fuck up something else, what'd she do, what's going on" and he's just like "She's dead, Joel." and Joel is silent for a minute and then asks what happened and how and Tommy really doesn't want to tell Joel what they told him and so Joel just gets up and Tommy tries to stop him and he's like "Don't fucking touch me" and he goes to Andrew's and he pounds on the door until Andrew answers and Andrew looks like hell, he's lost weight and he looks like he's hardly slept and he looks kind of dead in the eyes until he sees Joel and then he just looks like he wants to just set him on fire and he's like "The fuck are you doing here"
and Joel is like "what happened, you have to know what happened, please, fuck, please tell me what happened to her" and Andrew shoves him and just yells "You! You happened, you fucking happened! She died that night you fucking asshole, she lived for you and she fucking died for you, too. I hope you're fucking happy" and Joel is just practically frozen there and just lets Andrew wail on him for a minute before he looks at him and goes "you must fuckin hate me, right?" "Oh I more than hate you you fucking..." "Good. Kill me. Don't... don't care how just... please, fuck just..." and Andrew just kind of laughs at him darkly and says "No, no I'm not doing you any fucking favors, Miller. I have to live with the fact that I left her alone that night. You get to live with the fact that her blood's on your hands." Jess pulls Andrew back inside and Joel just trudges home but Tommy is kind of waiting for him, he's already stashed all the guns and the knives and he got Tess because he knows what Joel is like when he loses someone like thatand Joel only asked Andrew to do it because he couldn't risk flinching again, he had to do it right this time and he goes for where he keeps his gun as soon as he's in the door and it's gone and Tommy is just crying and he's like "Joel, you can't, I'm sorry..." and he's like "Just give me the fuckin' gun, Tommy! I can't do this, not again, I can't, I can't" and he just drops to his knees and Tommy holds onto him Tommy and Tess take turns, he's literally never alone for months. Eventually they think he can be trusted on his own and he's OK for a while but I think it wouldn't take all that long before he's gone, too it wouldn't be as obvious as a gun, it'd be him making a stupid mistake and getting bit or shot or an accident on a job in the qzand all the time in between he'd be such a shell of himself, Tess and Tommy always sharing a look when it's especially bad like "this has to get better at some point, right?"and when it eventually happens, neither Tess or Tommy are ever sure if it's really an accident or not. Joel wasn't really sure either, he just knew that the last thing he thought of was that last morning before Doc flew back to New York where he got her pregnant in the water and her and Sarah made French toast
SO YEAH that's just the most depressing shit in the world lol 
LOVE YOU!!
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Caught in the Rain (Ominis Edition)
Summary: Ominis accompanies MC on a trip into Hogsmeade, but things take a turn when they find themselves alone in the rain.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Public kissing
Word count: 900
A/N: This is my first fic starring Ominis! I hope I did him justice.
“Thank you again for coming to Hogsmeade with me, Ominis.”
An overcast sky threatened rain, but that hadn’t stopped people from coming to the village to enjoy the touch of spring warmth. The streets were crowded with witches and wizards who had ventured out for shopping or a quick butterbeer. MC was pleased to have her favorite person by her side, their hands clasped as she lead Ominis through the village.
“It’s my pleasure, really,” he told her. “Any chance to spend time with you.”
Without warning, the sky opened. The streets of Hogsmeade erupted with activity as everyone sought shelter from the raindrops splattering around them.
“This way,” said MC, grabbing Ominis’s wrist and pulling him down the street to shelter. “Shop doorway,” she explained.
The overhang kept them mostly dry, but stray drops from the downpour misted their faces as they huddled together. The street before them was empty, a peaceful sense of solitude washing over MC.
“This is nice. Just you and me and the rain,” she said. Despite the heat of the day, the rain had chilled her and she shivered against Ominis’s warmth.
Feeling the small movement of her body beside him, Ominis had the sense that an opportunity was before him. And he was very good at seizing opportunities. Ominis’s tall, lean frame trapped her against the wall of Spintwitches, his fingers tracing her jaw. MC gazed into his face, seeing the hunger written there mirroring her own.
“Is anyone watching?” Ominis asked quietly.
MC craned her neck to look around him, but found the street still devoid of people. “Everyone’s inside.”
He answered by pressing his lips to hers, softly at first. With his warm chest pressed against hers, MC tilted her head to allow Ominis better access to her mouth. The innocent kiss grew heated, her fingers inching into his hair, his hand gripping her waist. MC thought the sound of their breathing would drown out the pouring rain, if her thundering heartbeat didn’t do so first.
She was pulling him in closer when the shop door opened, accompanied by the sound of a man clearing his throat.
Ominis and MC startled apart. He didn’t seem too disturbed by being caught, a smirk playing on his lips. Red crept into MC’s cheeks, and she couldn’t meet the shopkeeper’s gaze.
“Sorry, Mr. Weekes.”
“Oh it’s you! Come in, come in, get out of the rain.”
Albie ushered them in, shutting the door behind them. He looked them over, noting their disheveled hair and clothes. He would have known what they were up to even if he hadn’t caught them in the act, but now that he saw it was MC, he wasn’t bothered. A knowing grin touched his lips as Mc smoothed her clothes. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Ominis.”
“Ominis Gaunt,” the boy clarified. Everyone had an opinion on the name. He wanted to get the reaction over with as quickly as possible.
“Any friend of MC is welcome here. Stay and keep me company until the rain lets up. How has your broom been treating you?”
It took a moment for Albie’s reaction to sink in to Ominis’s introduction. His family would be outraged if they knew, in this shop anyway, that the name of MC carried more weight than Gaunt. Albie Weekes had just gone up in his estimation quite a bit.
MC continued her conversation with Albie as she pulled Ominis through the door. “The broom has been great, thank you Mr. Weekes. Actually, I’ve been meaning to stop by for something.”
The next few minutes passed jovially as the three of them spoke. It was mostly about flying and Quidditch, which Ominis didn’t have great opinions on, but MC would shift the topic to things he could speak about. Their classes, plans for the summer, their plans for the rest of the day. Ominis had only felt so at ease when he spent time with the Sallows, but never a stranger like Albie Weekes.
Not that he was ever unhappy listening to MC speak. She could make any subject fascinating with her voice.
“Looks like the rain’s finally let up,” MC said now, finishing up her transaction. “We’ll get out of your hair, Mr. Weekes.”
“You two stay dry out there,” Albie said as they departed. “And try to keep kissing in shop doors to a minimum. Not everyone takes kindly to that.”
MC’s blush was prominent, though she laughed at the jest. “Good advice, Mr. Weekes.”
Ominis was quiet as they made their way down the street. MC could sense his thoughts churning away. “Something on your mind?” she asked.
“It’s not often that someone hears the Gaunt name and remains so unperturbed. I expect that’s thanks to you.”
“You are more than your family name, Ominis,” MC reminded him. “The more people get to know you like I know you, the easier it will be for you to distance yourself from them.”
“I don’t care what they think, for the most part. Your opinion is the only one I value.”
MC took Ominis’s hand, threading her fingers through his.
“So, what did you buy, my love?”
“I needed a new sweater for flying practice. My old one is getting a bit worn.”
“I wish I could see you in it,” said Ominis softly.
“You’ll just have to use your imagination,” he could hear the smile in her voice. “And your hands.”
Ominis smirked. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Sebastian Edition | Garreth Edition
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chewing-drywall · 2 months
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SKIWSGAAR HEADCANNONS
-secretly prefers they them pronouns, very occasionally she her but otherwise he's just disconnected from what even gender is outside of what he's being told he is (thinks *they* is cool in like a God way, it's sort of an ego thing)
-autistic, music and guitar being his special interest, I could go ON AND ON about this but I won't for this post
-at this point he just has as much sex as he does to keep up his image, he's pretty bored of it honestly, you do even the best things enough times and it becomes mundane
-nipple piercings, dry heaved and almost passed out from the pain cause his dumbass forgot to eat beforehand
-wants a dick piercing for the aesthetic but he pussys out every time there's an opportunity for him to get a piercing
-he canonically fucked 400 chicks in the course two weeks, that's about 28 people a DAY, give or take, and he said he wasn't even trying so god bless if he DID try
-more tattoos than canon
-mostly hairless, gets it lasered and NO chest hair, arm Nad leg hair super fine and pale
- so used to every person expecting the best experience of their life he actually isn't usually on the receiving end for stuff, it's pretty shitty honestly
-he honestly is so disconnected from actual, real intimacy that things like hugs and cuddling without sexual/flirting intent is foreign
-mommy kink, doesn't know WHAT it is but having some hot curvy women act all dominant makes him fold like paper
-sort of plays into his gilf thing, having some hot older women calling him sweetie while ordering him to do something gets him hot under the collar
-vaugly addicted to stimulants, he likes the productivity it brings but not the paranoia (not including the meth bender)
-has A LOT of stds, like he actually has a really restrictive medical schedule for everything he needs to take and what he has to do to keep everything in check. Who knew having casual sex with an incredible amount of strangers over the course of your life would cause this. Shocker.
-cannot parallel park. I mean he never drives himself anyways but still it's so embarrassing, 20 minutes in he's sweaty and flushed, people are side eyeing him and is STILL crooked holding up traffic
-he's like. Beautiful. Sort classically handsome but very pretty features thrown onto a more masculine frame, think grave yard angel
-as he ages he's noticing how his face is getting more gaunt and sunken in, not quite in a unsettling way yet but it really sharpens his features to an extreme extent
-it's because he's so fucking iron deficient his skin would be totally fine if he took a few supplements and STOPPED IT with the fear of sun, getting a little tan never hurt nobody dude GOD. Your not gonna get skin cancer from 20 minutes in the sun girly your so pale your REFLECTIVE
-related topic; at the beach he wears the HUGEST most RIDICULOUSLY large floppy sunhat, the borders of it goes past his shoulders and he always gets roasted for wears it by the band
-has the best skincare and haircare routine out of the band, used to get bullied for it by the guys but he usually just ruthlessly points out every dermal flaw he can find on them BOOM problem fixed
-INSANE calluses, he just doesn't have sensation in his fingertips anymore from the amount of blisters and split fingertips over the years, otherwise very soft hands
-perfect punctuation and spelling over text, no idea why in some fics his accent carrys over into his writing?? Types very deliberately to make sure what he's trying to communicate makes grammatical sense, actually prefers having emotional conversations over text because he can get what he's trying to say across easier sometimes
-doesn't actually let a lot of people touch his hair, and it's uncomfortable when people try and play with his hair without asking
-SKIWSGAAR IN THOSE 80s MOM HAIRCURLERS
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findafight · 1 year
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People making Robin mean to Steve is one of the biggest reasons I loved your one sided Ron*nce post. Because I genuinely cannot see Robin just overlooking how much Nancy hurt Steve just because Robin has a crush on her. Like even in small ways, I think Nancy did a number on Steve. I look at their relationship and see Steve being told he’s over dramatic, stupid, and that his hobbies and anything that makes him Steve is automatically less than Nancy’s hobbies and desires. Idk I just can’t see Robin hearing about that or about anyone treating Steve badly and not taking Steve’s side. Stobin should have the same brain always
Ahhh yes thank you!! Yeah it simply doesn't make sense to me with the history there. Because like. Even if we do not think Nancy cheated on Steve (which I believe she did, regardless of what TPTB say) she still broke his heart. Regardless of whether or not Steve thinks it's justifiable that she did, Robin wouldn't let that go. She holds a grudge like a motherfucker. The girl she liked had a crush on Steve and he also ate bagels messily in class and didn't know her name and she held onto that for at least two if not three years. No way that after she has finally found her forever person she'll let him being hurt go!! If she can hold onto a petty grudge she can hold onto a heartbreak grudge for her best friend. She does not like people who are mean to Steve and would not be one of them in the way she is sometimes made to be in fics(outside of legitimate misunderstandings, disagreements, normal friendship conflicts) (sorry I've rewritten this like 3 times trying to figure out how to say this without dissecting the st/ncy dynamic in s2. [which i ended up doing and then copy pasting that into a blank doc because oh. i have points. but off topic for this. But it's still a bit ranty] this gets a bit long, but I did delete a weird siderant in it so it's more on topic? I do have a stobin and r//ance point I SWEAR and I hope this is cohesive)
Like, I think Steve 100% blames himself for the breakup. We see this in s4. but also the show tries to make us believe that that's the truth and not Steve seeing Nancy through rose-coloured glasses which is wild. Unreliable Narrator Steve about his own love life is just. it makes sense with everything that we see happen between him and Nancy and how she very much has fault in the ending of their relationship, and should have taken more responsibility and at least broken up with Steve after she slept with Jonathan, but allowed Steve to shoulder the blame for being a "shitty boyfriend" when he really wasn't.
The way the breakup is framed as Steve's fault from the beginning of S2 is kinda wild to me because...Steve was right?? I ALSO wouldn't want to be discussing telling people the top secret government conspiracy that people had been murdered to keep it quiet over in the school library. That's not shitty boyfriend behaviour that's smart person scared of the government that can and will kill you if you blab behaviour. And Nancy even admitted she waited for Jonathan to make a move before going back to Steve, and then she cheated on him with jon! These are not things that Steve knows about or is responsible for! Why does the show make it seem like Steve is entirely at fault here!
Anyways I think Steve must not have told Robin everything and just used his "I was a shitty boyfriend" line on why they broke up for robin and while yeah, she's not good at reading people, she does know when to not push her sad looking friend into talking about a rough breakup. Which is why Robin is on the St/cy train in s4. If she had known everything, (once again not even touching the cheating) I cannot see her pushing Steve towards Nancy. She loves Steve and wants him happy, and thinks maybe if Nancy keeps giving him eyes, knowing Steve has changed in the past year and a half, Robin thinks maybe something can come of it! that's sweet! She's trying to get her friend back together with an ex he cares about, that obviously seems into him too, and doesn't know the extent of their breakup. Unfortunately canon did not make it clear Steve or Robin or Dustin or Eddie know Nancy and Jonathan are still dating? Which makes it very weird, and not make sense, so I am choosing to believe through a game of telephone with the kids Robin and Steve think Nancy and Jonathan broke up and that's why she didn't go to cali.
But Robin doesn't have all the facts so when he does tell her all about the end of his and Nancy's relationship, yes, and Robin is squinting at him because he is acting like it is his fault his heart got broken, but from all the facts given, it doesn't actually seem that way. She's not the best at reading people but she knows Steve, and it just...doesn't add up for her. Because all the things he said he did make sense to Robin, not wanting the government to kill you is actually very reasonable etc... And Steve is still so sad about it and clearly it still affected him getting his heartbroken like that. So Robin, who can hold a bagel crumb grudge like literally no one else, will obviously hold some resentment towards Nancy for hurting Steve like that even if Steve doesn't blame her, because Robin knows what it's like to just...not understand what you did wrong and still blame yourself for it. She's neurodiverse! If we use Rebel Robin, she lost Barb as a friend for seemingly no reason to her other than Barb finding a better friend(I think?) and it wasn't so dramatic as a breakup, but still. I think seeing that Steve had legitimately tried with the tools he was given to support Nancy and be a good boyfriend but blamed himself, and Nancy letting him do that, would strike a chord with Robin. She would Not let it go.
Robin might want to be Nancy's friend, especially if Steve is encouraging it, and insisting that it's fine and they did save the world together, but you're right! she could never overlook the fact that, not only is Nancy Steve's ex which makes things awkward anyway, but she also broke his heart and let him take the blame for it even if he doesn't realize it. (not to mention!! the cheating!!! I am still looking for post s2 st/ncy fic that let's them actually talk about it but it seems like that's just not addressed by the shippers? which is unfortunate because I'd read it, but I don't ship it enough to care to write it myself. Ya feel?) She could probably move past it for friendship if Steve was okay, but I also just...don't think they'd be super close friends.
Tbh I don't see Nancy really wanting to stick around with the Hawkins crew more than exchanging holiday cards and maybe a wedding or big event or something. It'd be nice for her to have people she knows she can rely on, but her goals are so much bigger than that and she'd want to get away and move on, especially if it was for sure over and done. She wants a lot more than Hawkins, and canonically only stays in contact with people involved with the Upside Down if they're dating her or related to her. I know we love to make everyone happy friends big found family but in canon...I don't think Nancy is really looking back at her hometown once she leaves for uni.
I don't think I can even picture Robin having a crush on her in anything other than "pretty badass girl appreciation" way because knowing thabout the st/ncy breakup would probably kill any butterflies before they hatch for Robin.
She couldn't do that to Steve. She couldn't do that to herself! I've seen people complain that a lot of the... not criticism but reasoning for not liking r0nance makes it about Steve so here's this. Robin wouldn't like Nancy not only because of all the Steve stuff, but because they simply do not vibe romantically.
Robin needs someone who will be able to smile and shrug off some of her rants or rambles or even find them endearing. Nancy needs to be alone for a while but in a partner someone is able to push back against her to challenge her and encourage her to her ambitions (this is something with Nancy robin I think would struggle with, with how Nancy was dismissive of Robin and her ideas, which might lead to insecurity for Robin) Robin is involved with people from the Upside Down, she's best friends with Steve, she obviously is familiar with Dustin and Erica and possibly Max. Nancy wanting distance from that aspect of her life wouldn't gel with the company Robin keeps.
I also think not wanting to risk hurting your friend or ruining your relationship with your best friend over a crush is completly legitimate reason for not pursuing a relationship (romo or not) of any kind. Like. jeez. God forbid you care what about your friends feel. It's frustrating when people treat that like it's a stupid reason when it's not!!
Robin wouldn't date Nancy because it may not ruin her relationship with Steve from Steve's side, but from hers. It'd make her question herself and what kind of friend she is. Would she want Steve to date an ex of hers that broke her heart? Even if she blamed herself for it? She wouldn't. Does she think Steve would ever do that? absolutely not, because Steve doesn't want to even risk hurting her. She values her friendship with Steve way more than a crush or a potential girlfriend. She's confident in their relationship far more than a fledgling romantic relationship. She doesn't want to even risk the chance of losing Steve, regardless if he says he's okay with her dating Nancy. Robin doesn't want to be the person who puts romance before her best friend, because she adores Steve, he's her person, they want to combine, and she knows Steve would never do that to her. It's Robin's choice! And I believe she would choose Steve.
Also, this one point is about shippers, it's sorta...super frustrating when so much of the reasoning of people wanting it to be canon prioritizes Nancy. Even when they try to make it about Robin it's about Nancy because it seems like they just. ignore that Robin's best friend is Steve, and that Nancy was annoyed by Robin rambling and being a bit Weird. different interpretations I guess but Nancy was jealous of Robin because of her closeness to Steve and also found her annoying! they got closer in the end and Nancy definitely respected her for the rant in the office, but she would still find those traits annoying. A lot of these points come from viewing r//ance as a potential canon ship when...it's not. (I think it is legitimately so hindering that a lot of shipping is about it being canon or whatever when no? it's just fun to explore a dynamic between characters! which is also why I don't get romo r//nce bc I think they'd have a really weird and kinda awkward relationship. which is fun and neat to explore even if it's messy!)
but still, it wouldn't happen in canon and that's fine!! it's okay to like fanon content! not everything has to be canon. and it's frustrating when people insist on there being a strong possibility of canon r//ance when there isn't. That's not a bad thing! It's just a thing! I'm sorry but based on what is going on with Robin and Vickie very likely being either in a relationship or on the cusp of one in s5, and everything going on between Nancy, jon, and Steve, there's no room for it. It wouldn't make sense to shoehorn it in when Vickie is literally Right There and smiling and enjoying being around Robin more than we saw Nancy being.
People doing this also insist it'd be good for Robin when really they just don't want Nancy to be with Steve or Jonathan and it's like yeah neither do I. I think Nancy should be single. Don't put that shit on Robin. Having them get together at the end is just not allowing Nancy time to be single and find herself and explore the big wide world, and not be tied to Hawkins. Nancy deserves a big post grad adventure without worrying about the upside down.
Let Robin have a cute redhead girlfriend who understands that sometimes she cannot stop her mouth but thinks she's funny and knows that she's gonna sometimes be Very Weird with Steve. Just because a character was created to be a love interest doesn't mean they cannot be interesting. Look at our boy Steve! He was initially supposed to be Nancy's jerk boyfriend who dies and look at him now. :')
Also. It'd be sooooo weird for Nancy there. Steve's her ex! Her gf being best friends with her ex would be weird for her!
and the argument that Vickie is boring is...like ok. more than one person is allowed to ramble when a bit fluster but okay. then so is Barb. She was also barely there. so is tommy. like. people are allowed to not like characters or like ships or whatever. But c'mon. Cut the girl some slack!
Vickie is an eveasdropper who wants to barg into stobin's weird thing. I believe she returned fast times stopped at fifty three minutes and whatever seconds on purpose to suss out if Robin got it. She got so distracted by complaining about her ex she over peanut butter two slices of bread. She thinks Steve is funny. She's a bit of a freak and I think if we continue to see more of her she'll fit nicely with stobin!
Literally I only think R0nance would potentially date in an au where steve and nancy never dated and robin and nancy did instead in a first teenage loves kind of way, but ended up being too different and prioritizing contrasting or conflicting things and realizing that they don't work as a couple. Like. Even there it doesn't really make sense to me? I mean I'm writing the post o66 au with that, the first teenage love r//ance because I do think that, given the right circumstances they would potentially fall in love. But I don't think it would last long term. They're too different about too many things to be compatible I guess.
Anyways yeah I can't vibe with Romo ships that have to disregard or ignore key factors of characters or their deep and loving platonic friendships with others. Sorry I wrote so much about this it probably makes no sense. Peace and love and remember stobin are platonic soulmates who are each other's number ones :)
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