#(not necessarily but just thought I’d tag it anyway)

[hyperfixationtimego]

SORRY HOLD ON I JUST HAD AN EPIPHANY

there are at LEAST two separate occasions where Simon refers to an organism with its scientific name (the spider in chipwrecked & wolfsbane in meet the wolfman) so now I’m simply convinced that this kid has a special interest in flora and fauna………he and Jeanette get to very excitedly ramble about how cool bugs are together <3

#I AM AWARE THAT IT’S LIKELY JUST THE WRITERS GOING ‘’lmao look at what a nerd he is’’ AND THEY’RE CORRECT BUT STILL. #he probably has those books that tell him how to identify different species and strains of things #he absolutely knows the name of every single wild plant that exists in their backyard #has a science class where the assignment is to breed fruit flies and he’s just like YES #aatc #simon seville #simonette #(not necessarily but just thought I’d tag it anyway) #jeanette miller #alvin and the chipmunks #chipwrecked #meet the wolfman

[biibini]

Its okay if you dont wanna do this but i really wanna know what you think mizu would do when reader gets her period

modern!mizu x reader gets her period (request)

tags: period, cuddling, fluff, kissing, modern au, modern mizu, mizu being best girl

a/n: ok midterms r coming up so soon HAHAHAHAH (im so nervous)

modern!mizu would def have the supplies

but i’d feel like she’d carry the lighter, smaller pads

but on most days, mizu would be a tampon used

to ur surprise, she typically uses panty liners for the majority of her period

and even if she does get a heavy period, she can handle it on most days

(yeah im fucking jealous i wish that was me)

like perfect silky hair and thin pads???

mizu my girl

hand those genes over

anyways

she would have aspirin and a hot pack on hand if u need it

when she was growing up, they used to be super heavy but now they've become lighter

if ur a heavy flow typa gal,

oh lord its extra packs for mizu to buy

at first, she would be rlly confused at the sizing and the number of flaps/extensions the pads would have

and what specific color to buy

(iykyk my heavy flow girls will know)

but she doesnt mind, u need them

as long as her girl is covered and safe and sound

if ur a tampon girl, mizu would double check to make sure she got ur brand when she goes shopping

modern!mizu would notice ur cycles, especially the week beforehand when ur rlly moody

whether its u being acting more impatient or upset than usual

she checks and makes sure that she has the necessities at hand

if she doesnt, she’ll say she’s just gonna run some errands

technically its not a lie

she does go to the closest convenience store

but the errands in question: pads/tampons and something sweet

(personally im a chocolate sweets girlie)

she’ll get u a lil sweet treat that’ll last u for a week or two

modern!mizu would also pour an extra cup of tea for u before bed

she just wants u to be as comfortable as u can be during ur period

and if u guys are cuddling and watching something before bed

she’ll make sure to keep u comfortable

“Mizu, pleaseeee. Just one more episode?”, you plead. You guys had just finished the second to last episode of the show. Sure, you felt a little tired. But the thought of moving and crawling off of Mizu’s chest didn’t outweigh the comfort of the couch.

Mizu sighs.

“You always do this and then you end up falling asleep.”, Mizu states as she grabs the remote control.

“Not necessarily-“, you rebute. Technically, she wasn’t wrong with your history of falling asleep. But not this time.

“Mmhmm. Right…”, she responds, a little sass in her tone.

You pout. “Please. I promise, I’ll stay up.”

You place your warm cup of tea aside, allowing you to wrap your arms around Mizu’s neck. You feel the heat of her neck against your forearms.

“Besides, it’s the final episode.”, you smile. You look at Mizu for sign of defeat.

“Ok fineeee,” she clicks on the next episode button, “Stay awake now. I’m not summarizing it this time.”

You plant a kiss on her cheek, pulling her closer to your body. She places her mug next to yours and letting her arms wrap around your body. You feel the warmth of her hands press against your body, almost burning from the hot tea.

“I promise I won’t.”, you assure as you sit back against Mizu’s chest again. You feel Mizu’s arms relax and allow you to prep yourself before watching the finale.

Mizu smiles as she felt your body lay back on hers. Your weight alongside the blanket you’re sharing relaxes her. You feel her arms gently wrap around you again as you hear the intro to the episode play.

Her hands start to drag along your sides to your stomach. You feel her burning palm place itself on the top of your lower stomach. Its presence shared a similarity to a heat pad.

You hum in response. While her right hand is busy drawing attention to your lower stomach, you feel her other hand wrap around you and pull you closer. You feel her lips lightly graze your shoulder.

“Mizu, it feels good but-”, you say as her right hand starts to gently massage your stomach.

Fuck. That feels so nice.

You hold back a groan. “Not here, hon.”, you say as you nod your head towards Ringo’s bedroom door.

“I know, don’t worry.”, Mizu responds as she places a soft kiss near your neck. “I just want you to feel comfortable now. You’re on your period, right?”

You nod in response.

“So c’mere. I’ll keep you nice and warm.”

modern!mizu would put ur towel in the dryer while u shower

ik its oddly specific

but i feel like she would make sure to make u feel warm in any way possible

with or without heat pad

same concept applies for the blanket

shes always so thankful her and ringo got an apartment with an in-unit washer dryer

when ur washing up, she’ll typically be doing some light studying with some tea before bed

a break inbetween would be the pop the towel in the dryer

next break is swapping out the towel for the blanket

final break is bringing back the blanket right before u get into bed

its a strange strategy but it helps her stay focused and paces herself while synonymously taking care of u

modern!mizu would make sure she’s wrapping her arms around ur lower stomach when ur cuddling at night

the heating pad gets annoying to sleep with

especially if u tend to toss and turn at night

but having her hands warm u helps u relax at night

when ur trying to sleep, she’ll gently caress and massage ur stomach to help release any tension

at first, u thought it wouldnt have an effect on u

but the more she did it, the more relieved u felt at night

mizu would also feel relaxed knowing that u r relaxed as well

when she heard ur snores, she knows shes done a job well done

#mizu blue eye samurai #mizu bes #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai #bes mizu #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu headcanons #mizu x y/n #mizu x you #modern mizu #mizu #modern mizu headcanons #modern au blue eye samurai #modern au mizu #modern mizu x reader

[bluebeary-jay]

scattered thoughts / sharp focus

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is taken away from you and upon finding him almost-dead... something in you snaps ((kinda part 2 to clouded judgment / clear mind, but you don't necessarily need to read that one))

Tags: ANGST, angst with happy ending, near death experiences, Joel has surprisingly little screen time but you'll see he was there in spirit

Warnings: REALLY graphic descriptions of violence, small panic attacks, KINDA torture(?) 😳, choking, lemme know if i missed something

Word count: 7.5K

A/N: i can't believe i've finally finished it! i aimed for a worthy successor to cj/cm aaand i hope i managed but jeez was it hard. also i told myself i won't be writing sth like that again but i kinda have an idea for the final part (would be hurt/comfort 🤭) so let me know if it's sth you'd like to read. anyway as always happy reading!! 💕🥰 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, i absolutely love seeing what you think of my fics!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You swallowed your tears and rested the chin on your hands, trying to push back the wave of panic threatening to drown you.

“Tell me again.”

Tommy sighed, his own eyes empty and worried.

“I don’t know who those guys were, but they obviously knew Joel. There was a dark man leadin’ them, and I think he had somethin’ wrong with his lip, but it was too far for me to take a good look. The group consisted of five, maybe six people? And I shot one of them, but he appeared to still be alive when they were leavin’.”

You were silent for a couple of seconds, trying to make sense of it all.

“And where did they take him?”

“I reckon to the old ski resort on the top of the mountain. We ventured pretty far from here to investigate these tracks.”

You nodded and steeled yourself, taking a deep, trembling breath and quickly drying your tears.

“Okay. I’m going.”

“You’re not.” Maria leaned over the table, her expression unyielding. “The decision is final.”

“I am going,” you repeated fiercely, slamming the flat of your hand against the tabletop, but Tommy gave you a stern look, which made you bite your tongue. “Look, I get that you don’t want to lose even more people in a rescue mission–”

“This is not what it’s about,” Maria retorted, almost looking hurt by your words. “Believe me, if I wasn’t carrying another human being inside me, I’d already be going after them. But you have to take other things into consideration.”

“She’s right,” Tommy spoke up quietly, though equally irritably, and you turned sharply to look at him in disbelief. “The route to the resort is very advantageous to fall into an ambush. They could shoot us off like ducks and we’d have nowhere to hide.”

“I don’t care,” you ground out, looking from one to the other. “We can’t leave Joel. He’s your family, for goddamn–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” shouted Tommy abruptly, bringing his hand down onto the table, too. “He’s my fucking brother and was family way before you were even born!”

“Tommy.” Maria kicked him under the table, keeping one hand on her belly. Her husband flared his nostrils, clearly agitated by your words, but you were too angry yourself to care right now. You two glared at each other for some time before Tommy clenched his fists and turned around.

“M’goin’ to get some air,” he said gloomily over his shoulder, already at the door leading outside. Maria sighed and looked at you again.

“Please. Don’t do anything stupid, and I swear I’ll send a group out as soon as this blizzard ends.”

“He can be long dead by then,” you answered gravely, really set off by Tommy’s reaction and his words. You tried to will your tear ducts to hold any signs of stress and worry, not wanting to show your friend how broken and helpless you felt inside. “If it was me, he’d already be halfway there to save me, Maria.”

“I know. But just think about it. If something happens to you…” She shook her head. “How do you think I’d be able to look Joel in the eyes and explain why… how…”

She genuinely seemed at a loss of words, and you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

“I understand where you’re coming from, I really do. But I need to get him home, Maria. I have to.”

With that, you stood up, feeling like you were going to suffocate if you stayed in the room any longer. You didn’t look back even when you heard Maria calling your name softly.

There wasn’t any sense in discussing the matter with any of them – you made up your mind to go and save Joel and there was no way anyone would make you stay. He wouldn’t hesitate to go and get you if anyone dared to lay a hand on you.

You remembered that one time when he killed a group of men who wanted to use you as a bargaining chip to gain entry to Jackson. And how afterward you told him you’d do the same for him, unable to bear the painful and guilty expression on his face.

Now you planned on doing just that.

You were scared – of course you were, you weren’t stupid – and the nerves were practically eating you alive, gnawing at your bones and hurting your muscles from the inside out.

But the worst was the fear of never seeing Joel again. Of something happening to him. And you couldn’t live with yourself if you didn’t at least try…

“I’m coming with you.”

Your head snapped to the side. There stood Ellie – dressed in a warm jacket and a hat that didn’t cover her ears. Her eyes were full of fire, and you recognized the anger and determination in her expression as the same which were almost suffocating you.

Of course she was eavesdropping on the conversation. It was Joel that it was about, after all, her dad in all but one sense.

And suddenly you understood what Maria meant by not being able to look Joel in the eyes if something happened to you.

“No,” you said curtly, walking past her and out onto the street in the direction of your house.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Ellie was right behind you, and the force of her steps showed just how angry and frustrated she was – just like you felt. “I know you’re gonna go after those guys, and I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not,” you repeated more sternly, not turning around to face her. You reached your house and fumbled to open the door. “You’re staying and that’s fina–”

You stopped yourself and sighed, pressing your forehead against the wooden surface.

It was unfair. You were unfair. If those exact words spoken by Maria have set you off so much, you wouldn’t be surprised if Ellie…

“You’re not my fucking mom, remember?” the girl barked angrily, and you let out a shuddering breath, stressed to your limits with everything that happened in the last few hours. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t do just because you’re older!”

It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be okay.

“I know,” you whispered after a couple of seconds of silence, still not turning around. “I’m sorry.”

Ellie didn’t answer. You repeated your quiet mantra and glanced over your shoulder at her. “But Ellie, I… I can’t let you go. Joel would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

Jesus. Exactly like Maria.

Ellie still looked pissed at your earlier words, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well, you’re not the only one who cares about him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one he cares about the most.”

Ellie opened her mouth. Closed it and furrowed her eyebrows, but the irritation in her eyes dimmed. You gave her a small, apologetic smile, trying not to burst into tears.

“He’s gonna be fine, you know,” you lied smoothly, opening the door. “And Maria said she’ll send a group to retrieve him as soon as the storm eases up a bit.”

You didn’t even need to look to know that she didn’t believe you. To be honest, you wouldn’t believe yourself either in this situation.

You waited several seconds to see if the girl wanted to say something else, but after a few moments she spun on her heel and went back, not saying anything. You stared after her, but when the thick snow made her figure just a fuzzy shape, you gently closed the door and pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes.

It’s going to be fine. You’ll get Joel back and all will be okay.

You took a couple of deep – albeit shaky – breaths to pull yourself together, and when you were pretty sure you weren’t about to start crying, you made your way into the kitchen. And stopped short.

At your table sat Tommy, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you mumbled, trying to calm down your pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

The younger Miller looked up, but stayed silent. You looked at each other for a few tense moments, but ultimately you sighed and left him in the kitchen, going to your room to get a backpack and another, more fitting, set of clothes.

He was still there when you returned to the kitchen with your stuff, but you didn’t even pretend you weren’t preparing to head out. The man watched silently as you put the backpack down by the door, went to retrieve and reload your gun, and gathered some essentials on the table, not once glancing in his direction.

You were persistent in ignoring Tommy’s presence, but then he finally spoke up.

“We can go before dawn. I’ll get the horses ready and we will take the fourth gate.”

You froze and stopped what you were doing, then turned around and placed your hand on your hip.

“We can’t take horses up there. Not in this weather.”

“We’ll leave them at the fifteenth checkmark. That place in the East where there are so many swallows durin’ spring.”

You nodded, and your gaze softened when you looked him over. Tommy was just as worried about Joel as you were, you knew it. He was just better at hiding it.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” you murmured, feeling terrible that in such a short amount of time, it was a second person you were apologizing to. “But you know I have to go after him. You know that.”

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, sighing. “Yeah, I know. There’s no way I ain’t goin’ either. Just… I just hate doing somethin’ behind Maria’s back.”

You didn’t answer – because what could you say? That he didn’t have to go with you? As much as you wanted to save Joel, pretending not to care about the dangers or anyone’s opinion, you knew you’d probably die if you went alone. But it didn’t mean you were going to ignore all that Tommy was risking by coming along with you.

“You don’t have to, Tommy,” you whispered. “You have your wife to think about, after all. And your–”

“I know,” he interrupted glumly. “Don’t worry. All of us will come back.”

You nodded. You really hoped he was right.

*****

At first, everything was going according to plan.

At least, until Ellie decided to show up.

She surprised both you and Tommy a couple of miles outside of Jackson, probably thinking that it was far enough that you won’t try to send her away.

You tried anyway. You were understandably furious, not only because she didn’t listen to you, but also that she trailed after you both for so long in this weather. Her reveal caused a short screaming match and a couple of nervous tears shed by you, but eventually you and Tommy decided it’d be more dangerous to make Ellie go back to Jackson alone. So she continued with you to the house where you left your horses, then past it and in the direction of the ski resort.

You didn’t know how many people were at the resort, and there were only the two of you – well, three, counting Ellie, but no matter her stubbornness, you weren’t going to let her go in – and an attack was too risky in this situation.

So you decided to sneak in. To distract and draw the kidnappers’ attention long enough for you to get Joel out.  It was still stupidly risky, but it wasn’t like there were much more options that wouldn’t end in those guys killing all of you. The plan was that Tommy would find a vantage point and be on guard to take down any threats with his sniper rifle if you were noticed, while you go get Joel.

Ellie… Ellie didn’t take no for an answer. And as much as you hated that she tagged along on this dangerous rescue mission, you had to admit that she came prepared. Apparently some time ago Joel taught her how to make trap mines and she pitched the idea of planting some up the mountain to create an avalanche.

Well, you and Tommy were both very much against setting off a full-blown avalanche, but it wasn’t a bad idea per se. So it was agreed that Tommy will help her set the bombs in some strategic places while you wait for a signal to go in.

The sneaking in part was surprisingly easy. The people staying there didn’t leave any guards outside, probably because they didn’t expect that someone would actually look for them in this weather, and it seemed that there weren’t that many of them inside like you feared. You had a vague idea where Joel might be, based on the positioning of the people present, so you reckoned it’ll be the wisest to wait nearby.

It took about an hour of hiding in one of the empty rooms (you had to change your hiding spot once, because someone decided to randomly sweep the perimeter) before you heard distant explosions and panicked, angry yells, and then a rumble of the mountain. You suspected a fair amount of snow was falling down the slope, and you prayed that Ellie and Tommy were in a safe place when that happened.

You heard the sound of footsteps getting further away. Then more of it. It was eerily silent, and you counted to ten in your head, before slowly exiting your hiding spot.

Just as you suspected, Joel was held in the lobby, tied to one of the decorative columns, and even though his back was to you, you’d recognize him anywhere, even by hands or the back of his head alone. A quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no one around, but still you preferred to stay on guard. You silently tip-toed to where he was sitting on the floor, mindful of all the debris scattered on the floor and keeping your head low, and breathed a sigh of relief when you finally reached him.

“Don’t move,” you whispered, barely moving your lips. Your fingers touched his wrist and he budged slightly. You angled your face closer to the left side of his head, hoping he’ll hear you better this way. “It’s me, Joel. I’m gonna get these off you, okay?”

Not waiting for the reply, you took out your knife and started to cut the thick, coarse rope binding Joel’s wrists. You winced at the burns underneath, but you managed not to cut him, which was a feat with how tight the ropes were. He was very still, probably not wanting to handicap you.

“Okay,” you whispered when the last of the thick strands were cut through, and you carefully slid the remnants of the rope from his wrists. “Now follow me, Tommy is…”

Your voice died down when Joel’s arms loosely slumped down, along with his head, and a second later his torso started tilting to the side before heavily hitting the ground.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

“No.” The whispered word escaped you when you hurried around him, now not caring about staying hidden. “No, no, no, please…”

You rolled Joel onto his back and only now saw the damage done to him – his nose broken, face covered in blood, a gash under his left ear, and a still bleeding gunshot wound in his arm. He didn’t look dead, didn’t have that lifeless emptiness around him, but his eyes were closed and his chest was still. You put your ear to his mouth, desperate to feel his breath on your skin, but…

No, it can’t be, it can’t…

You couldn’t feel anything.

“Joel,” you said quietly, taking his face between your hands, but tears were blurring your vision. “Come on, please open your eyes.” A choked sob broke out of your throat and you shook your head when he still didn’t even as much as stir. “Love, please…”

That’s when your eyes landed on a small, glass vial lying discarded some feet away. You looked from it to Joel, tears clouding your vision, and scrambled forward to check it out.

As you suspected, the syringe – because that’s what it turned out to be – had the traces of a thick, translucent liquid in it left. There wasn’t any writing on it, but the glass was clean, unlike various other bottles and wrappings scattered throughout the facility. You stared at it for a couple of seconds, then fixed your gaze on Joel again.

Just as the sound of footsteps started to echo down the hall.

You froze and strained your ears to make sure you didn’t imagine it, then took a look around the room. The doors were slightly ajar, but whoever was coming here, they couldn’t see you just yet. Panic seized your insides and you turned to Joel again.

“Sweetheart, please wake up,” you whispered pleadingly, shaking his shoulders and slapping his cheek lightly. “Come on, look at me, open your eyes…"

The steps were getting louder by the second. You tore the glove off your hand with your teeth and tried to very quickly check Joel’s pulse, but either in your panic you couldn’t find it, or the heartbeat was too slow for you to pick up.

You didn’t consider any other option.

There wasn’t much time left, so finally you left him and quietly went to hide behind the door, waiting for the incomer to walk in. Your hand reached for the gun on your belt.

And paused.

There couldn’t be any other option… right? Joel was alive, you just failed to find his pulse. He…

He was lying, still in the place you left him, and you couldn’t see his chest moving. The blood was flowing from the wound in his arm, staining his jacket and the floor… Your hand, the one holding the pistol, was covered in it, too…

Then you did something you never expected of yourself.

The gun stayed in its holster, and you went to grab from the ground one of the heavier pieces of debris you noticed before, a long metal pipe. Your hands tightened on the metal, and your eyes stayed on Joel’s lifeless form. You took a stifled, nervous breath. Then a deep, steadying one.

The person in the hall was really close now. Joel still didn’t appear to be moving or breathing, and it made your own chest feel tight and painful.

He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t.

But if they did this, if… if he won’t ever open his beautiful brown eyes again, say your name in that entricing raspy drawl…

The doors to your right opened and your face twisted in rage and resentment. Your muscles tensed and focus sharpened.

The man who walked through the door made a noise of surprise at the sight of Joel lying on the floor – and that inhaling sound, that maddening noise seemed to taunt you, because how dared he breathe when Joel’s own breath was stolen from him, when you weren’t sure if it was still there – right before you stepped forward and swung the pipe with all your might.

The man – dark skin, with short hair – fell down with a loud cry when the harsh metal hit him right in the temple. Your eyes scanned his figure for a weapon, and you hit him again, this time somewhere near his stomach, when he made a move to reach for his knife.

“What did you give him?!” you asked with malice and venom that were so alien to you, you almost didn’t recognize your voice. The man’s eyes focused on you for the first time when you kicked his blade away, and his confusion turned to anger.

“Crazy bitch!” he spat, heaving for air, and lunged at you, but the open wound in his skull must’ve slowed him down, because without any problem you managed to raise your makeshift weapon before he could grab you.

Since you met him so many years ago, you always had Joel to watch your back. Now you were alone, but somehow that thought didn’t scare you. It exhilarated you.

An unpleasant, hair-rising crack echoed in the room, followed by the stranger’s scream, when the heavy metal smashed the bones in the forearm.

“I asked… a simple, fucking, question!” you snarled at the man, bringing the pipe down again, aiming for his hand this time. He moved it away at the last second, which enraged you even more, so with a mad, frustrated scream, you smashed his knee, using the pipe’s momentum when it bounced off the floor. “What the fuck did you do to him?!!”

He screamed, loudly and terribly, cursing at you with every shaky breath he took, and–

You felt so unlike you, so… out of your skin, somehow… but you wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to know this inhuman cry of pain that was reverberating through the walls of the resort was your doing and your power over this bastard. Because of what they did to Joel.

Then a loud bang rang out in the air, and you instinctively ducked your head when a part of the door to your side was shot off. You dropped the pipe – no use for it now – and drew your gun, noticing with surprise that your heart was steady and your breath even, as if you didn’t almost get shot just now.

Another bullet was sent in your direction, and a woman’s voice yelled something inaudible, while you stood still and counted the seconds.

Three, two…

In a rapid movement, you came out of cover and aimed at the person standing in the hall, firing twice. The first bullet hit the woman in the arm while the second seemed to burrow itself in her stomach. She fell backwards with a curt cry, and the man lying at your feet roared with rage.

“No! You fucking bitch, leave her alone!!”

Your motions were almost automatic as you put your gun away and picked up the metal pipe again, its end splattered with blood. The man in front of you had to see something in your eyes – despair? emptiness? hatred? – because his face fell and he started quietly begging for you to stop and let him go. At least that’s what you assumed he was saying, because you didn’t listen to him one bit.

“Do not…” you started, unexpectedly calmly, bringing the end of the blunt weapon down. The impact caused his shinbone to break, and you lingered for just a moment to hear the bitter cracks of the shattered bones, “fucking… go anywhere. Don’t you dare move, hear me?”

The man didn’t answer, just cursed and wept in pain. The sound was horrible, but you almost didn’t notice it – or more accurately, didn’t care. Which would be even more concerning if you weren’t aware of the woman lying injured in the hall behind the door, and Joel, still unmoving and cold to the touch on the other side of the room.

Slowly, not hearing the black man’s cries or distant gunshots from where Tommy probably was taking down the enemies, and not caring about the blood of a stranger covering your jacket and pants, you dropped the pipe and took out your gun again. Then you made your way down the corridor, your eyes locked on the woman who shot at you.

She was groaning in pain, clutching at her stomach. When she noticed you, her hand reached for the pistol which lay discarded next to her, but you quickly lifted your own and aimed at her before she touched it.

“Don’t move,” you murmured, which would sound almost soft if it weren’t for the empty look in your eyes. The woman scanned you up and down, and slowly lifted her hands.

“Who are you?”

“What did you give him?” you asked like you didn’t hear her, coming closer to kick away her gun to the far end of the hall. The woman’s eyes followed the weapon, then shifted to you.

“Do you even know what that man did? What is he guilty of?”

“I know. Now answer the damn question. What did you give–”

The door on your left slammed open and you only had time to turn your head before a heavy body collided with you, pushing you to the wall. Your head hit the bricks with an echoing crack, knocking the breath out of you. A man who surprised you grabbed the material of your jacket and slammed you into the wall again, but you managed to grab his hair and yank it hard, which allowed you to step to the side and away from the point of disadvantage that being trapped against the wall was.

The man – taller than you, with a black eye and without one of the front teeth – was quick to recover, however, and catched the wrist of your hand that held the gun, pushing it to the side when you pulled the trigger. From the corner of your eye you could see the woman you shot curling up and covering her head, then trying to scamper away, but the wound in her stomach was a significant impediment.

You fired again, trying to wrestle the gun from the man, but his grip was strong and after a few seconds of struggle he managed to knock the weapon out of your grasp, sending it flying to where you kicked off the woman’s one earlier.

Not sooner than your hands were empty, his elbow collided with your face, hard, and you cried when a gush of blood started pouring from the broken nose and a cut on your lip. Fear washed over you, and sheer luck caused you to duck to the side in time, avoiding a fist to the temple.

You stumbled backwards a few unstable steps, breathing heavily. The guy was smirking, acting like he already won – but you weren’t about to die in this sleazy, stinky place, leaving Ellie all alone and never knowing why they abducted Joel in the first place.

Joel…

“You’ve made a huge mistake,” said the man quietly, taking one, then two steps forward and swinging again. You backed away a second time, feeling your heart pounding in panic and knowing you didn’t stand a chance against a man of his stature.

Finally your luck ran out, and the man managed to hit you in the jaw, making you taste blood on your tongue. Before you could recover, one of his hands shot forward and grabbed you by the throat, and then, still keeping his big hand on your neck, he brought your entire torso down, slamming you to the ground. You hit your head hard and the glass shards on the floor embedded themselves in your skin, but in the next moment the sound of your painful scream was cut short. The grip the man had on your throat tightened, and you started to have difficulty breathing.

Your eyes budged in fear as realization of what was happening dawned on you, and you started to kick and struggle wildly, reaching for your attacker’s face, but he moved out of reach, still putting his whole weight down on you.

Your fists were hitting his forearms, your nails scratching his cheeks, whatever to make him let go. But he didn’t, his hands still squeezing your throat so strongly and crushing your esophagus.

“After I kill you, I’ll go kill your friend,” your attacker snickered, smiling viciously as he watched ice-cold panic enveloping you. “He’s not worthy of keeping him alive that long, anyway.”

Something ignited inside you at his words.

Joel.

You suddenly remembered the many self-defense lessons Joel had given you, so that whenever he wasn’t there to protect you, you could do it yourself. He was always so afraid for your life…

Slowly and with great effort, your fingers crept down, searching for the handle of your hunting knife, while dark spots started to appear before your vision, partially covering the sneering face of the man crushing your windpipe. He said something else – something you didn’t even hear because of the ringing in your ears…

And then with the last bit of your strength, you yanked the knife out of its sheath and buried the blade in the side of his neck.

Several things happened simultaneously: the man cried in surprise and let you go, the woman shouted a warning – too late – and you swung your leg over him, straddling and stabbing the man over and over again. His neck, his chest, his face, you didn’t even see what you were hitting. Screaming your lungs out and burying the blade in him again, and again, and again.

And again.

With an outraged, desperate cry, the woman lunged at you, but the adrenaline coursing through your system made you not even register something cutting deeply the skin of your arm, your veins and muscles giving way. You spun around, tumbling with her to the ground, but quickly managed to pin her down, blocking her arms in place with your knees, and pressing the tip of your knife to her chest.

She immediately stopped moving.

“Last fucking chance,” you croaked with difficulty, your neck bruised and swollen. “What… did you give him?”

You didn’t know if it was the sight of you, bloodied and wounded, the fact that you just violently killed her friend, or something else entirely – but now the woman looked scared.

“Okay,” she whispered, trying not to breathe too deeply, and glanced nervously at the blade pressed against her skin. “Okay, I’ll tell you, just don’t… It was a tranquilizer. Nothing dangerous, we just put him to sleep for a couple of hours. He was putting up quite a fight and the guys were getting antsy that he’ll pull something off before–”

“He’s not breathing,” you rasped viciously, sputtering blood onto her face. The woman flinched and took a shaky breath.

“His heart rate is slowed down, but it doesn’t– it shouldn’t kill him.”

You clenched your teeth, then exhaled. Inhaled.

You have to take a grip of yourself. He is alive. He has to be…

Should be.

The weight with which you had pinned her to the ground became lighter, and the woman sighed with relief when you removed the sharp end from her chest.

“It shouldn’t… kill him?” you repeated emptily, trying to dismiss the pain in your throat when you were speaking.

“No.”

Your head was still buzzing, but you tried to push it to the side, to focus on what was important right now.

“Why… did you take him?”

And just with that one, quiet question, the woman’s expression changed. You were considering letting her go, since you already hurt her pretty badly, but the sudden shift in her behavior set off alarm bells in your head once more.

“He’s a murderer,” the woman said, as if it was the most obvious answer. “A monster that would do everyone a favor if he got put down.”

White, blinding fury flooded your veins and it felt almost as if electricity was cracking above your skin. Your hand held the knife tighter.

‘Put down’, like… like an animal. She was talking about the man you loved–

You weren’t able to stop the hatred and rage flowing out of every pore of your skin. In one swift motion you plunged the knife into the woman’s chest, making her choke and gasp in surprise.

“You cannot call him that,” you spluttered, barely able to speak from the pain. “You…”

And then your hand forced its way lower down, still holding the handle of your weapon. Cutting through the woman’s – now struggling and screaming in agony – abdomen and guts.

They went so far as to abduct Joel, they took him from you, hurt and shot him, wanted to torture him, to make him suffer before they ultimately kill him…

But they didn’t, he can’t be dead, he can’t–

The woman was conscious the entire time as you were ripping her insides apart, and her screams died down only after you reached the navel.

Your vision was blurry and faltering when you stood up, but your heart was still beating steadily. There was an echo of a scream in your ears, though you couldn’t tell if it was your or the dead woman’s voice.

There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway. In the back of your mind you hoped that Tommy took care of any remaining enemies, because if they’d come running here, you didn’t think you’d be able to hear them in time.

Clutching your injured arm, you slowly made your way to the room where you left Joel and the man who attacked you first. Your gun was lying near the entrance and you picked it up before pushing the door open and staggering inside.

The man wasn’t where you left him. Instead there was a big pool of blood, forming into a wide, smeared path leading further into the lobby. At the end of it you saw him, groaning and crawling to the exit.

You reloaded the gun and walked closer. At the sound, the man turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you.

“You fucking psycho!” he spat, bracing himself on the elbow of his left arm – the only one still working. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! When she sees it, they’ll come for you, and they’ll make sure that the two of you will fucking pay for it!”

His words were flowing through you as you struggled to keep your vision focused. You felt weird – almost like waking up way too early and finding your body not listening to you entirely.

Then you realized. The hungry, burning anger was gone, the embers of hatred slowly dying out. There was only smoke and emptiness left inside you.

“I don’t care,” you mumbled, not loud enough for the man to hear you, but that didn’t matter – two seconds later he was dead, his brain splattered all over the floor behind him.

Your hand was shaking. Cold crept up your limbs, embracing and almost choking you as you breathed in, out, faster and faster as you finally comprehended what you did.

Your eyes moved down to the man’s indented knee, completely smashed into a bloody mess. The other limb was all wrong, his foot sticking in the opposite direction and no wonder he had to crawl to get away from you, you destroyed his legs, you…

You staggered backwards, your pupils darting to the hallway just for a second before returning to the battered corpse in front of you. The back of his skull was gone now, but how did he stay conscious for so long after you smashed his head with a metal pipe? There was so much blood on it… How much pain he must have felt after you left him?

And that woman… He begged you to leave her alone, and you… you ripped her open…

You moved back, back and further away, before tripping and falling to the floor. Your breaths were fast and shallow, and you reached for your neck, sore and swollen from almost being strangled, trying to will your lungs to work.

They were bad people. They took and hurt Joel, and planned to kill him. You had to kill them, they’d kill you in a heartbeat, they…

It wasn’t like you’ve never taken a life before, but it was the first time that you inflicted pain on somebody on purpose – not in self-defense, but because you wanted to retaliate. It was done in revenge.

You didn’t know for how long you had sat there when you heard someone saying your name. It sounded like… No, it couldn’t have been his voice, he was unconscious, he wasn’t breathing…

Suddenly, Tommy’s face appeared in your blurry field of vision – of course it was him, their voices were so similar, after all – and there was a deep crease between his brows. He looked worried and fearful, and–

“Snap out of it,” he said firmly, shaking your shoulders harder than he should have. Your name fell from his lips when you didn’t answer, and his eyes followed yours to a battered body on the floor. “Look at me. Look at me.” Tommy forcefully turned your chin in his direction, and his eyes were full of sorrow and pain. “You did what you had to do.”

You shook your head, swallowing the tears that streamed down your face. He didn’t know what you did. He didn’t understand what happened here, what happened with you… You yourself didn’t know what happened to you.

Tommy brought you closer to his chest, enveloping you in his strong embrace and the smell of leather and gunpowder. You choked on air, unable to stop the sobs racking your body, and deaf to his words, for the only thing you could hear were cracks of bones, screams of pain, and your own vengeful cries.

It was so loud in your mind that you almost missed a quiet grunt coming from behind you.

*****

Joel slowly opened his eye, then groaned and closed it again. He felt like shit and it was so hard to breathe, but he pushed through the pain and discomfort from the wound in his side, and tried again.

The first thing he saw was the greenish curtain, hiding the rest of the room from him, but judging by the fact that he was lying in bed, alive, with apparently all his wounds dressed, he figured it wasn’t the same place that group of angry youngsters took him to.

Lifting his head and turning it to the other side was a tremendous task, but it was so worth it – because there was you. Sitting in a chair next to him, asleep and with your head lying on folded arms on his bed. Joel smiled softly, but then furrowed his brows as a pang of anxiety shot right through him.

Your face was a mess, with cuts and bruises healing, your brow was split, and one of your forearms had a bandage wrapped around it, now a little dirty around the edges. Joel couldn’t see clearly, but your neck seemed… dark, as if the skin was bruised there, too.

What the hell happened?

He lifted his arm – the tingles and needles pierced his stiff limb – and brushed your cheek lightly, trying to wake you.

“Darlin’...” he murmured, and you stirred. He tried to say it again, louder this time, but his throat was scratchy and he winced at the feeling. There was no need for it, however, because in the next moment your eyes fluttered open and then widened when you took in the sight of him, realizing he’s awake.

“Joel!” Your hands – God, he missed the feeling of them – cupped his face gently, and your eyes filled with tears in the matter of seconds. “Oh my god, baby…”

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” he breathed out quickly, not wanting to see you cry. “It’s okay, darlin’... I’m here.”

You sobbed with a dazzling smile, your beautiful eyes dancing across his features before you darted forward and pressed your lips to his firmly. Joel could almost taste the desperation and worry in your shaky breaths and tears that fell from your eyes and onto his tongue. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair and bring you in closer, but a sudden, sharp pain pierced his arm when he tried to move it, and he hissed into your mouth.

“Sorry,” you whispered and moved away quickly, letting out a broken laugh and brushing the unruly strands of hair away from his forehead. “I’m just so happy you’re okay.”

Joel wanted to ask what exactly had happened while he was out, but before he got a chance, you leaned in again and started softly peppering his face in kisses – first his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose and his chin. And Joel didn’t have the heart to stop you.

And that’s how Ellie found you both. She gagged when she saw the display of affection, but there was a grin on her face when he looked over at her.

“Gross,” she scrunched her nose. “But I’m glad to see you awake.”

“Yeah, well, I still feel pretty shitty,” he grunted, scanning the kid for any injuries, but she didn’t look any worse for the wear. His eyes strayed to your neck again, and the concern came back double-barreled. “What happened to you, sweetheart? Where–”

“I’ll�� go get the doctor.” You stood up abruptly before he could finish, and looked over at Ellie. “Will you stay with him?”

“Yeah. Sure.” The teen shrugged, but now was avoiding Joel’s eyes, and he felt more uneasy and agitated by the second.

“Okay. Be right back, love. Gonna grab you some water, too.” You squeezed his hand and smiled. Joel’s eyes escorted you, and when he made sure you were out of the earshot, he turned to Ellie.

“What happened?”

“Well.” The teen blew out her cheeks and went to take a seat you previously occupied. “You were attacked during the patrol…”

“Yeah, no, that I remember,” Joel interrupted quietly. “They shot me, took me to that ski resort. But how am I here? Did she…”

He trailed off. Ellie looked at the curtain you disappeared behind, then back at Joel. “Listen, I wasn’t there, so m’not sure,” she mumbled quietly. “But after she and Tommy got you out, she was sorta… different.”

“Different how?” he asked sharply. Ellie bit the inside of her cheek, looking away. “Ellie.”

“I don’t know, okay?” she answered in a sudden burst. “She looked like hell. You saw her neck, I think someone tried to choke her, and she had an ugly cut on her leg, a fuckton of cuts and bruises… And the doctor spent hours getting all the glass shards out of her.”

Joel got up as much as he could, feeling a pit of anxiety rising in his chest. Ellie was silent for a while before she spoke again, this time surprisingly softly.

“Remember when you beat the shit out of that soldier when we were escaping QZ in Boston?” Joel nodded slightly – she did, too. “Yeah. She had a similar… kind of look on her face, and it looked… not exactly scary, but alien.” The teen looked up. “My guess is she did some fucked up shit to get to you. Tommy said she’s been having real bad nightmares since then, but he doesn’t want to tell me–”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps, and a few seconds later you emerged from behind the curtain. You had a tall glass of water in your hand and a small, hopeful smile that grew when your eyes fell on Joel’s face.

“I know you’d probably prefer something stronger, but water will do you good,” you said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were just talking about you. Joel watched as you carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and put down the glass onto the table to his side. “One of the nurses will come here in a couple of minutes. You were unconscious for a couple of days so they want to make sure everything is okay.”

“I told you I’m fine, darlin’...”

“Please.” You gently took his hand in both of yours, staring at him with concern. “For me?”

Joel looked you over, his eyes lingering on your bruised neck and the bandage around your thigh which he didn’t notice before. Then he glanced at Ellie with worry, not knowing how to approach this problem or ask what exactly happened to you.

Your eyes were a little red and puffy, and he briefly thought about what the kid said: that you have had terrible nightmares, that apparently you went through some sort of hell to save him. It seemed that whatever you had done, it took its heavy toll on you. And he couldn’t bear it.

Joel hated the thought of you risking your life for him, of the experience branding you so deeply that you lost sleep because of it.

Because of him.

The only thing he could do right now was to be there for you. And maybe – just maybe, if he tried hard enough – to do something about those of your scars that he couldn’t see.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“Okay,” came his soft answer, to which you smiled with relief. “Whatever you wish, darlin’.”

No snarky remark, no groaning or muttering could be heard from Ellie, and that worried Joel much more than he’d ever admit. He exchanged a worried look with her while you were distracted, drawing patterns on the back of his hand with tender fingers.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he heard you say quietly, though it was unclear whether you were talking to him or yourself.

Either way, Joel squeezed your hand tighter, now feeling oddly afraid of letting go.

“Yes, darlin’,” he confirmed in a soothing manner. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller angst #joel tlou #tlou hbo #btw i tried to do some research on tranquilizers and anesthesia drugs but i didn't find anything clear so. everything you read is made up #i could have wrote it better but.. eh #it was challenging enough and i can't believe i've spent almost a month on it

[josiesullysblog]

The Other Sister

~AGED UP Neteyam x Na’vi reader

~Fluff, angst

~Proofread?-no

~Summary- You always come next to your sister, Aiyanna

***

You were always second to your sister. Didn't matter what, if she was there you were second. She was prettier, she could hunt better, and she even could heal much better than you. You were like an extra piece. Not needed but not necessarily unwanted.

You didn't mind having this title, it meant you could get away with more things. Don't get me wrong, your parents loved you, but you somehow were always shoved to the back. They would say you’re the most understanding girl in the world, but you were just more reserved than your sister. She always had to be the center of attention, she was like the sun while everyone just revolved around her.

You tried to be like her, but it was out of your element to act out. Plus, you hated upsetting the ones around you. If your family wasn't going to pay attention to you, you'd find it in others. The Sully family, for example, you were like a daughter to them. You were over all the time, people believed you were theirs. Neytiri didn’t mind at all, she adored your company. She was the one to help you become a healer, to her you had such a loving heart. And she saw the way you and Neteyam looked at each other, even though others couldn't tell.

You and Neteyam’s relationship is the definition of she fell first, and he fell harder. You were close with Kiri and Lo’ak so you spent the majority of your time with them. Occasionally, Neteyam would tag along and you’d become a fool. Tripping over your own feet, looking longer than you should, but you believed you and he would never work. He was going in a completely different direction, he was set to be the next leader, the next Olo’eyktan. He had so much going for him, and you were just you.

You had no real purpose, you were a decent healer, not nearly as good as Kiri, and you were a terrible hunter your sister would make jokes saying, “I’d rather take my chances with a Thanator than go hunting with [Y/n]!” You always just watched everyone, you didn't mind listening because you never had anything interesting to talk about anyway.

Neteyam thought otherwise. You were his first love you were everything he’d ever wanted. His eyes always fell on you in a group setting, you never spoke much but when you did he’d listen intently. If there was a word he’d use to describe you it would be, love. Everything you did you did it with love. It was like you were dripping in it when you smiled people know it was genuine. You were nothing short of love and he wished he had the confidence to voice this.

As he grew up, this feeling only intensified. He’d become a stuttering mess when you’d heal him. Yet, you always had the patience to listen and wait for him. He honestly believed he was being so obvious about his crush, so he was shocked when his father brought the idea up to court your sister, Aiyanna.

“She’d make an amazing Tsahik, I heard she's even good with hunting,” Jake watched as Neteyam wasn't even listening, “yea she's okay,” Neteyam’s eyes were looking for you, every day at this time you’d be coming in with Kiri. “Neteyam, I’m being serious,” Neteyam sighed, “you are next in line, and need to find a mate.”

You walked in laughing with Kiri, Neteyam’s tail waving as a result. “Dad, don’t worry I have someone in mind,” You waved at both of them, causing Neteyam to head your way, “hello, [Y/n],” you smiled big at him, “how was your day, teyem?” He smiled at you using his nickname, “it would be better if you let me take you on a walk,” he flashed his teeth and you let out a laugh, “I’d be thrilled but I promised to help your mother tonight.”

“It's alright, Kiri can help me!” Neytiri came out holding Tuk’s hand, Kiri immediately made a face, “why m-,” Neytiri gave her a look causing her to stop talking. “Are you sure?” you didn't mind helping, “she’s positive so you have to come along with me.” You nodded, “alright lead the way!” you both left while Neytiri smiled, “so cute,” Kiri rolled her eyes while Jake stood confused, “what's cute?” It was Neytiri’s turn to roll her eyes.

Neteyam brought you to your favorite spot, closest to the river, but far away from the noise. You smiled as you approached the spot. “How did you know of this spot?” you swore no one other than Kiri and family, knew of your little place. “I have my ways,” his ways being he begged Kiri to tell him everything about you. You sat down looking at the sky. Pandora was its most beautiful at night, you could spend the rest of your life indulging in its beauty.

“The sky is the most pretty at night,” Neteyam said sitting by you. You nodded, “I heard from the scientist that the star your father is from has four seasons,” you looked at Neteyam, “I wonder what it must be like constantly having to adapt to a new temperature.” Neteyam could watch you talk about random things forever. His eyes never left you as you explained seasons to him, “they gave me a book, and it talked about winter. I wonder how snow-,” Neteyam cut you short, “you're beautiful,” it came out so smoothly cutting you off guard. It was the most he’d ever seen you speak. “Thank you,” you blushed pushing the braid out of your face. You hadn't noticed how close he got, your eyes flipped between his lips and eyes, “[Y/n], I’ve been meaning to tell-,” you both pulled out of your trance when you saw your sister appear.

“Aiyanna is everything alright?” Neteyam mentally cussed your sister out as he helped you up. Aiyanna twirled a piece of her hair looking at Neteyam. “Mom was asking for you,” you smiled at Neteyam, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” he waved at you bye while Aiyanna bit her lip at him. Once you both were turned around he made a visible face at her.

You couldn't stop smiling as you couldn't believe you were this close to kissing Neteyam. Your sister quickly brought you down from cloud nine. “What were you thinking?” she glared at you as you both walked into the tent. “What do you mean?” you still held a smile as you hugged your mother.

Your father would be returning in a little bit. “Mom, I caught her with Neteyam in the woods,” as she spoke she became angry. Your mother held a smile, “this is wonderful news!” your sister looked shocked, “mom a week ago, dad spoke about me becoming the new Tsahik, not her!” your smile fell as she spoke. This is why she was so upset, she was jealous.

“I’m the one who's good at hunting, I’m good at healing, and what trait do you possibly have that I don't?” you felt like something had been lodged in your stomach. “Do not speak of your sister that way, it is not your father's choice who Neteyam can court. If he has chosen [Y/n], we will all stand beside him.” Aiyanna laughed, she looked you dead in the face, “I deserve this?” Your mother stood up and grabbed her hand, “oh Aiyanna, you mustn't let your emotions run you like this. Look at your sister, look at the pain you are causing her.” Your sister sent you a glare while tears ran down your cheeks.

“You must understand Neteyam is not a toy or an item. He loves-,” your sister cut her off, “no, he’s supposed to be mine!” you stood up, “Aiyanna please be reasonable,” she walked up close to you, “I will never forgive you if you let this continue [Y/n].” she stopped talking before she laughed, “Neteyam is the next Olo'eyktan, and you are just some girl. That's something nobody can change, not even him.” you sobbed as you looked her in the eye, “but I love him,” your mother put a hand on your shoulder as your sister continued her assault. “Then you’d let him go.” she looked at you once more before leaving, “get back here!” your mother went after her.

You fell to the floor sobbing holding yourself, you had never felt so alone.

After that night, you distanced yourself from everybody. You needed to think, you had felt lost. Neteyam was quick to notice, he knew your sister was the reason. He knew it was wrong to hate people, but he really hated your sister.

“What did you do?” he caught your sister by surprise. He made sure the two of them were alone, “what do you mean?” she said smiling, “cut the crap because I'm not talking about you. What did you tell [Y/n]?” she couldn't believe he was asking about you. “She doesn't speak at all, barely comes around anymore.” he began walking closer, causing her to bump into a tree.

“So, I’m going to ask one last time, and you better have a good explanation. What did you do?” Aiyanna felt tears fall down. Neteyam was scaring her, but she didn't let her facade falter, “I just brought her back to reality, she spoke of wanting to court you.”

Neteyam hissed, “and what if I do plan on courting her? Tell me how that can't be real?” Aiyanna froze, “[Y/n] is nowhere near your status. You need someone like-,” Neteyam hit the tree behind him, “I don't need anything, I need [Y/n], she's perfect. I have loved her for years, she's warm and kind, beautiful.” He walked back looking at the girl in front of him. “She’s everything your not. What sister would say such cruel things about their sibling?” Aiyanna choked a sob back, “in the time I've known [Y/n], she has spoken no ill towards you. What could she have possibly done for you to be so mean?”

Aiyanna couldn't answer his question, he stalked closer whispering in her ear, “if you are to mess my relationship up with her anymore, I personally will make sure you're dealt with.” he looked at her one more time before walking off. She fell to the floor sobbing, you were never the other sister, she was.

Neteyam finally found you sitting in your favorite spot. You played with the water singing a song. “You sound beautiful,” his voice startled you. “Teyem,” you got up quickly attempting to leave but he grabbed your hand. “Don’t leave,” you looked anywhere but at him. Because you knew if you looked into his eyes, there was no way you could walk away, “why,” Neteyam wrapped his arms around you, “you know why.” He responded causing you to try and get out his hold.

“No, I won't do it,” you started crying, fighting harder but he only held you longer. “I’ve been second to her my whole life, and I won't be the girl you settle for because you cannot have her.” He grabbed your face forcing you to look at him, “whoever said I wanted her [Y/n],” it was his turn to speak.

“You can fight this all you want, but I’m going nowhere,” he spoke with power, “Teyem, you are set to be the next Olo'eyktan, you are far from my reach. You shouldn't have someone like me next to you.” he finally let go of you. His eyes began to water, “someone like you? [Y/n] you are everything I could ever want in a mate. You own me, you control me, I belong to you.”

You couldn't think of the last time you had seen him cry, “you don’t think I don't want to be a good leader? Follow in my father's footsteps and do what's right by the tribe. It's what I've done my entire life and I’m done.” He pulled you closer to him, “I love you. I’m in love with you, [Y/n]. I won't hesitate to stripe my title and give it to another to be with you.”

You looked at him as if he carried two heads, “Teyman you couldn't. You have been training your whole life,” you tried to speak reason over him. “And I have loved you my whole life, I see you [Y/n] please don't let anyone besides you dictate how we feel for one another.” You finally smiled at him connecting your lips, which he gladly accepted. “I see you, Neteyam,” he kissed you once more, “I’m prepared to do anything if it means I’m with you.”

Every word he said, was the truth and you knew this, “we’ll do this together,” you said hugging him. “Forever.” you laughed, “but you're not giving up the role of Olo'eyktan, I won't allow that,” he laughed, “then you’ll just have to be my Tsahik.” He kissed you, “gladly.”

***

I’ve been writing this all day! Gosh, this was long but hopefully, you all enjoy it! I probably won't be able to write till Saturday, I have a busy week ahead of me! So till next week! -

#avatar way of water #avatar loak #neteyam #jake sully #avatar #loak x reader #avatar neytiri #avatar tuk #neteyam x y/n #neytiri #avatar neteyam #avatar smut #protective neteyam

[dorims]

What kinks do u think Roman has?

I just know they’re weird (and I’d still be into them)

so if i have to be honest, ive never really thought about roman's kinks 🥲 HOWEVER you know how he shamed tom for swallowing back his cum after tabs sucked him off?? yeah he's definitely into that and you can't tell me otherwise.

and without further ado! a little brainstorm under the cut <3

tags. VERY SUGGESTIVE, MDNI, an overall masochistic vibe, degradation/praise, allusions to cheating, impact play, mentions of roman's low self-esteem

a/n. psa im not familiar with writing smut and if i gotta be honest im pretty vanilla myself so...do with that what you will LMFAO

masochism

hes a masochist, we been knew

its pretty much the central theme of these hcs too

degradation/praise

so definitely degradation bc its roman, cmon. but for some reason i cant help but think that he's really into being praised too?

could be wrong but i feel like he'd only let himself be praised after he's developed a solid bond with his partner, and it'd probably go from being degraded to a mix of degradation and praise to full praise in some occasions.

if theres not a smooth transition i feel like he would panic and shut himself out. like it feels too intimate or smth.

cuckolding (controversial)

i think he would like it bc it hurts. like his partner sleeping with someone else is kind of like a slap to the face

a situation that has him constantly thinking 'I'm not enough' and that kind of hurt i think he gets off on bc masochism <3

but thats only maybe with the condition he somehow gets the chance to prove to himself and to you that he is better than the person you're sleeping with

OR he's into 'pseudo-cuckolding' so he likes the idea that you COULD go and sleep with someone but you dont, kinda like what happened with grace and the server

SO MAYBE IM WRONG and he would actually hate this but you know, im trynna brainstorm

phone sex (is this even a kink?)

only the sound of your voice and his,

kinda like the romangerri situation LMFAO

because think about it, this way you dont have to actually see him. that would comfort him in some way because of his low self-esteem and self-image issues. that way you can picture anything you want and not be disappointed with the real thing, you know?

i also think that phone sex (or bathroom door sex????) would help him open up until he grows comfortable enough in the intimacy the two of you are building

love how this are supposed to be smut hcs yet im making them slightly angsty

impact play

i think this might be a little self-explanatory, but yes, getting hit in a sexual context turns him on

only when he is receiving ofc

dom/sub dynamics

he's a massive sub and no one can tell me otherwise

its literally on the show TT

ANYWAY, he's probably bratty at first but then just gives in to your every demand because he aims to please

still likes to get on your nerves though, like a lot and i think thats because even when he's been an annoying piece of shit in bed you still take care of him and that reinforces, in his head, that, sure he's being unbearable but that doesn't take away the fact that you care for him and love him, ya know?

also, he would probably call you mommy/daddy at first jokingly but the it kinda sticks??

freud would have a field day with roman roy

OOC BUT FUN TO THINK ABOUT: vanilla sex

hear me out, ik roman's character is pretty much the personification of the words 'kinky mf' but idk

i think vanilla sex would suit roman SOO much. i think for roman to reach the point of having sex with ANYONE there needs to be a established foundation of trust and respect and perhaps love too

and i know sex doesn't necessarily mean love, but we are talking about a man who's definition of love is pain - like love HAS to hurt for it to be love - and undoubtedly he would twist his perception of sex to fit that same definition of love because love is a branch of intimacy and so is sex, you feel me?

i just feel like it would show roman another side of intimacy. all gentle and kind and giggly sex and intimacy doesn't necessarily have to hurt for it to feel good.

like imagine just plain vanilla sex and its banter and laughter and quips and help me lol

vanilla sex and aftercare would solve all his problems, i said what i said /hj

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy smut #succession fanfiction #succession imagine #succession #roman roy #smut #asks !!

[kining-the-evil]

Stu or William Afton trying to be normal for Christmas, but they just can't help gloating about their wealth

Warnings: none really. A little suggestive at the end

An: I’m accepting Christmas Drabble requests for the next 4 hours

“Here you are beautiful.” Stu jumped over the couch, landing next to you with a small gift bag in his hands. You had snuck away from your family for a bit to spend time with Stu on Christmas Eve. You hated that he was alone, but your boyfriend had refused to come over to yours for Christmas. Stu claimed to enjoy the time alone and that Billy tended to show up at some point anyways.

“And for you.” You handed over the wrapped box you had for him while taking the bag. “In three?”

“One,” Stu started.

“Two,” you added.

“Three!” You both said at the same time before opening the gifts.

You pulled the paper out of the bag along with a thin box. You let out a small gasp as you opened the box, finding a necklace. It was an 8 pointed star that looked to be silver with a shining black diamond in the middle. You should be grateful for something like this, any girl would be ecstatic to receive something so nice, but your heart sank when you saw it.

You glanced up at Stu, seeing him staring at you. “What do you think?” He sounded excited, but you couldn’t match his energy.

“I… I thought we were sticking with $20.” Stu just waved that off.

“I knew you’d like it, I didn’t even look at the price.”

His words caused the pit in your stomach to feel heavier. And a glance to the side made a lump in your throat grow. You had bought Stu a Michael Myers art print, it wasn’t super expensive, but you had thought it was pretty and that Stu would like it. Instead, it was thrown to the side, half the wrapping paper still on it.

“Baby, are you okay?” Stu’s words made you realize how close you were to tears, and suddenly you couldn’t hold it in, letting out a small sob. “Hey….don't cry, baby,” Stu scooped you into his arms.

“You hate it!” You sobbed into his chest, fisting his shirt slightly.

“What are you talking about? I hate what, baby?”

“The- the gift I got you.” You sniffled as you started to calm down, not that the sadness was going away at all.

“I don’t hate it, what makes you think that?”

“You didn’t even open it all the way…” you whispered. Stu leaned forward slightly to grab the gift off of the coffee table.

“Baby, I love it. I just wanted to see you open your gift.” Stu tried to explain but you shook your head.

“It’s nothing compared to what you got me.”

“Baby, I don’t need some expensive gift. This shows that you know me, it’s something you knew I’d like.”

“But you always buy my expensive gifts for everything, and I… you deserve to get nice stuff too. I feel bad because I can’t afford anything like what you buy me.”

Stu listened to you talk, rubbing your back comfortingly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I never think about the price tag, you know? I’m really just spending my parents money.”

You looked down at your hands slightly. You knew Stu was telling you the truth, you’d never seen him even check a price tag. When you went out he paid for everything, he’d buy lunch for your friend group, bought random shit he didn’t need, Stu never even thought about the price. But you didn’t have that luxury. Sure, you weren’t necessarily broke, but you had a budget. You had to work a part time job and your parents didn’t just buy you whatever.

Stu reached around you for the print, holding it for you to see. “I love it, and it’s going to go up in my room as soon as we’re done. I was more worried about you liking your necklace, which…” Stu set the picture down and reached for the necklace, taking it out of the box and clipping it around your neck. “Looks amazing on you.”

You blushed at his words, looking down at the necklace resting on your neck. “It is beautiful.”

“See! I knew you’d like it. I’ve always spoiled you, and I always will.”

“Maybe just…scale it down slightly every once in a while? I want to feel like I spoil you as much as you spoil me.” You explained, watching as Stu’s smile grew.

“You spoil me in the best ways.” Stu smirked suggestively, making you slap his shoulder.

“I’m trying to be serious!”

“Oh, I’m being very serious.” Stu promised as he leaned in to kiss your neck. “Now, why don’t I give you your second gift before you go home?”

“And what could that be?” You hummed as Stu’s hands moved up under your shirt.

“I think you know exactly what it is.”

#scream #scream 1996 #stu macher fic #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher drabble #scream x reader #scream drabble #christmas drabble

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

WIP Wednesday

Nobody tagged me but I'm having the time of my life with the banter in this fic so I'm sharing anyway. Have some tidbits!

(These are not necessarily in order of when they occur in the fic. I just picked out some bits I thought both showcased the banter and didn't give away plot.)

“Right, thank you. I’ll get him to bed. Can he walk?” “I can walk fine.” “I didn’t ask you, did I? I asked the trained medical professional.” “Give me the fucking ring back, I want a divorce.” “You say the sweetest things.”

This is extremely difficult to do seeing as that performance is burned into his brain with the kind of permanent intensity he thought only childhood trauma could attain.

“Well, I’m deeply flattered, but I simply can’t see myself holding your hand and calling you ‘dear’.” “No offense, but the idea of waxing poetic about our wedding day makes me want to hang myself.” “I’m flattered, actually. I’d be concerned if it was any other way.” “Oh? Your wife never told you of my deep and unrequited feelings for you?” “No, of course not, how else would she keep her psychosexual hold over you all these years?” Someone passing by the table keeps them a very weird look.

“He’s got over her, in case you were worried about that. It was some years ago.” “And here I was about to throw myself into traffic.” “Traffic’s no good on this road, you’ll want to get over one onto the main thoroughfare.” “You know exactly what to say to a man when he’s down.”

Anyway if you're sitting here wondering "is Mads having mayhaps too much fun?" the answer is yes.

Tagging @princessfbi and @buckttommy (you and your url changes I'm gonna strangle you...) since I'm not sure who else has WIPs at the moment. MWAH.

#mads writes stuff #tagging thing #princessfbi #buckttommy #found family means you get to be an absolute asshole and get away with it because they're assholes to you right back

[chickenparm]

Where You Willed The Moon - Part 3/End

happy scara-release-day, here's the ending of this little goofy thing as a celebration. mind the chapter tags for specific warnings :^) can you tell this chapter is just a love letter to scaramouche? is it that obvious?

---

AO3 Link Prev Part

Scaramouche/Reader (reader is the traveler) reader in prev parts is F but this part can be read as GN 3,119 Words - NSFW Chapter Tags: Blowjobs, Crying, Confessions, minor Overstimulation Story Tags: Unhealthy Codependence, Enemies to Lovers, P in V, f!Receiving Oral, Thigh Riding, Mentions of m!Losing Virginity, Pining, Bullshit Sereniteapot Magic, sub-ish Scara when it counts :^)

Spoilers for the Sumeru story, disregards anything post-boss-fight.

---

“You could try to be a little civil.”

“And you could find a hole to stuff her in and we could leave her.”

…

“Why do you need her, anyway? You’ve got me now. Surely I’d be a better guide than a flying lavender melon.”

“Well, for starters, Paimon isn’t a wanted criminal.”

“I doubt I’m wanted. The sages are unlikely to admit their folly, and the Fatui aren’t necessarily on anyone’s good side, even on their best days.”

“Paimon is my best friend. I think that’s a good enough reason to not leave her in a ditch somewhere.”

“And I’m your-”

“My what?”

“...I don’t know.”

“Think about it. We’ll talk about it tonight-”

—

Wangshu Inn is deceptively quiet. Such a central location, popular with travelers and merchants alike, should be far more bustling than it currently is. But the weather is balmy and warm, the sky is clear, the roads have been safer, so it’s no wonder if there are more campfires dotted on the horizon than usual. 

It leaves you in blissful quiet, only the occasional conversation drifting from the walkways above and below, too muffled to really eavesdrop on anything of importance. That’s well enough for you - you’re alone, leaning on the window, breathing in of the slightly humid air that’s tinged with the dinner that’s being made in the kitchens below. 

Scaramouche will be back soon - it’s hard to break the habit of calling him that, when you’ve gone so long. You’d never use it to his face, but you’ve given up on trying to push that away for now. It’s not a terrible name, the connotations having been changed in your heart the moment your consciousness touched his own. 

With him comes Paimon - they’ve been arguing again, you can tell with how Paimon takes her food and disappears in a shower of sparks. She’s been doing that more often, her distaste for him well known despite your assurances that he’s not the same man that had been so hostile before. Conflicting personalities, you supposed. Like two pieces of sandpaper. 

“You’re thinking hard.”

“I’m not thinking at all.” Your counter comes over your shoulder, given with a lazy smile and a shrug of your shoulder. The skin of your cheek sticks to your shoulder with how thick the air feels, Liyue’s Summer has been particularly unforgiving this year, so you’ve heard. 

“Oh, so your head is just as empty as I thought it was.”

“You looked into it, remember? Saw my every thought?” Your lower back presses against the window frame as you turn to lean against it, watching as he settles at the low table and portions out food for himself. It’s unnecessary for him - food doesn’t provide him with anything other than an interesting pastime. Yet he participates anyway, and you’re not about to shame him for finding enjoyment in something so trivial.

At your questions, he lifts his gaze, unable to block his expressions with the hat that was thrown haphazardly on the bed you’ll share this evening. Without it, he seems almost vulnerable - like he’s lost a shield that protects him. The answer lingers for a moment, before he nods in an effort to forego something verbal. Your silence in return urges him to backtrack on that. 

“I did. Everything - likely as much as you’ve seen about me, I’d say.” Violet eyes turn to his bowl, filled with only rice for the moment. He takes a second to mix it around aimlessly, steam rolling once his chopsticks break the surface. “I wouldn’t have killed you, you know. In our fight.”

“One hundred and sixty-eight times grows a little fuzzy, but… I believe you.”

The amusement in your tone seems to annoy him, and he fixes you with an unconvincing glare and a sharp exhale. “I mean it. When we connected, I saw your life. Where you’ve been, what you’ve gone through. You aren’t human - you’re immortal. You won’t-”

Leave me. 

He doesn’t need to finish the thought, that mere insinuation making his cheeks color slightly as he looks you in the eye with all the bravery he can muster when he clearly wants to shy away. “I was confused but… a part of me believed you, when you brought up the prospect of losing myself. When you made it seem like you cared.”

“I did care. I do care.”

“I know that now,” he mumbles under his breath before righting himself, “but at the time, my thoughts were in the wrong place. I still wasn’t going to kill you, I wanted to-... to convince you to stay, I think. To convince you that if you joined me, I could help you look for your twin. As the Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom, maybe I could offer enough to keep you.”

The leaves of Wangshu Inn’s tree rustle with the coming wind, filling the space with natural white noise and drowning out the sound of your heart breaking. He avoids you in favor of looking out the window over your shoulder, a stubborn set to his jaw as he cuts off anything further he might say to incriminate himself. 

Unable to allow a declaration like that to rest, you push off the window to cross the room, only a few short steps bringing you to his side where you kneel close enough for your knees to brush his thigh. He flinches when you reach for him, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, soft as ever. 

“If only you could’ve known that it was what came before that which brought me to you, hm?” Playing with the ends of his hair, you twist them loosely around your fingers before letting that hand slide down his shoulder, then to his arm, then to his elbow where his skin is barely covered between his arm guard and sleeve. “Well you have me now. Everything happens for a reason, I guess. Maybe all of that was just a convoluted way to bring us together.”

Scaramouche’s head turns so quickly that it startles you, his face dangerously close to your own, his nose just barely brushing against yours. His voice wavers, his question is one you can almost taste on your lips if you were to run your tongue out to catch it. 

“What am I to you?”

And the answer is so simple, so obvious that you wonder why he needed to ask it at all. But you’ve felt the need for reassurance more times than you can remember, and perhaps the situation with Paimon earlier had shaken his resolve in your dedication to him. Even after you’d given him everything, he greedily asked for more. As long as it was in your power to give…

“Everything.” A small smile from you, a look of astonishment from him that’s wiped away when you lean forward to kiss him gently. The featherlight touch lingers, leaving your skin tingling as you pull away just enough to watch the way his eyes snap shut to stem the shine of tears beginning to gather at the corners.

Scaramouche’s lip quivers, just before he draws it between his teeth to hide the motion. Giving him a small bit of privacy, you lean in to wrap your arms around his body, pulling him to lean on you. It’s a familiar motion, one that you’ve indulged in with him an innumerable amount of times. It’s as easy as breathing, as familiar as gliding had felt the first time you’d soared over Mondstadt. 

Fingers dig into your back, clutching you as he seeks all the comfort you’re offering him. He nearly bowls you over with how he leans into you, selfishly accepting everything on display until his face is buried into your shoulder and his body shakes with the effort of holding back the emotions that want to run free. 

“Don’t ever doubt how much you mean to me, alright? No one else can occupy the same space in my heart as you.” Gently, you kiss the exposed skin of his shoulder, lingering at your leisure as you watch a shiver raise bumps along his skin. Dragging your lips up to his neck, mouthing at the point of his pulse through the sheer fabric of his undershirt, you relish how he’s gone from limp in your arms to stunned tension. Anticipation colors him, even if you can no longer see his face. 

“Can I tell you something? Something you didn’t get to see in my mind, something you haven’t learned yet?”

As if he would say no, but it’s not often you get to tease him without getting a taste of his barbed responses. Instead of his sharp tongue, you receive a nod that’s deceptively demure, his hair brushing along your cheek smoothly with the motion. Kissing further up his neck, along the soft skin beneath his ear, and finally to his earlobe, you murmur your secret just loud enough that only he could ever hear its first manifestation into reality.

“I love you.”

Everything falls silent. The heartbeat in your ears, the leaves whispering in the tree, the conversations that flutter in from outside. For the briefest time, you’re almost convinced that perhaps you’ve spoken some code words that cease the world from spinning altogether. 

If you did nothing, said nothing further, would you be allowed to stay in this single moment until the end of time? Would that ending even come, so long as you kept so very still, your knees beginning to ache from the hardwood flooring? It’s a simple pain to bear in exchange for holding him like this, the burden on your heart lifted with the proclamation that’s been clawing to release itself from the very moment he’d crashed to the floor in that workshop so far below the city of Sumeru.

It’s not your doing that time begins to slip forward again. It’s his, where his shaking hands grow lax against you, barely hanging on with the friction between his fabric-covered palm and the back of your shirt. “Do you mean that?”

Scaramouche’s doubt hurts. Not because he second-guesses what you’ve said, but the entire reason he feels the need to do so in the first place. He’s been lied to, scorned, pushed away so many times that he can’t help but feel wary. So, you decide perhaps it’s best to show him. To ingrain it in his heart and his mind so thoroughly that he’ll never doubt your conviction ever again.

He doesn’t even fight you when you give him a push, pulling away enough that you can watch as he allows you to lean him back, further and further until he has to shift his legs to cage you in as his back hits the floor. The lanterns in the room set his face alight, showing the rose color of his cheeks and the wetness that begins to well up in his eyes once more. 

One swipe of your thumb isn’t enough to wipe them away, but it leads him to lean into your palm that conforms to his cheek so perfectly. Like he was made for you to hold him in the sweetest ways, some divine form created for you to love as surely as you do in this moment. 

The lithe muscles of his abdomen jump as your hands slide beneath the parted fabric of his kimono, warm palms pressing against his skin as you explore planes you haven’t given yourself nearly enough opportunities to indulge in. Beneath you, a shaking breath leaves him, catching in his throat as you untuck his clothing from his belt, then work at the knot keeping the remainder of his clothing cinched securely. 

“What are you-”

“Showing you. Making sure you don’t forget, that you never question for a single moment ever again what sort of meaning you have to me.” He tenses as you continue to tug at fabric, untucking and parting until he’s just indecent enough for you to wrap your hand around his half-hard arousal. All it takes is that single touch for him to moan low and slow, appreciative enough for his head to roll back to rest on the floor with a dull thud. Any apprehension leaves him with a gentle stroke of your hand. 

Leaning closer, enough that your intentions are obvious even as he can’t look anywhere but the ceiling rafters above, you speak close enough to his cock that your warm breath washes over it. He tenses, hardening in your palm as you hum, “I want to make you feel so good that every time you wonder how I might feel, you’ll remember this moment and your problems will go away.”

And the response in his throat dies as his cock finds a home on your tongue, from base to tip, dipping into the slit and tasting the beginnings of his release with a saltiness on your tongue. It’s far from unpleasant, and you find your lips wrapping around the head in search of more. There’s a scraping sound, grating in its insistence as his nails dig into the hardwood flooring. Both hands are straining, fingers shaking with the effort of keeping still for no real reason. 

Scaramouche resists for only a moment as you use your free hand to reach for his, squeezing it once before guiding him into resting his palm on your head. An open invitation, one that he doesn’t quite grasp yet as your tongue swirls circles that leave his breath ragged and hitching. It takes a single bob of your head, a taste of what he could demand from you, before he puts pressure against your scalp in encouragement. 

“Please…”

As if he would need to beg. All he’d need to do is say the word, make the motion, quietly demand anything from you and it would be his without complaint. It takes nothing more than that little push for you to follow his demands, the flat of your tongue dragging along skin that draws a high-pitched, needy groan from him that feeds the odd hunger you’re feeling. But you want more - need it - and let him set the pace of his cock feeding past your lips and over your tongue. 

Deeper and deeper, until your nose is brushing his pelvis and his fingernails are dangerously close to drawing blood against your scalp. It takes him a moment to gather himself, and when it does it’s with both hands on you - the one on your head, the other curled against your cheek. Craning his head, he looks down his body at you with a startling amount of reverence in his eyes, lips parted with the anticipation of words you’re certain you’ve been waiting your entire life to hear.

“I-I love you. I love you. So much-... ngh-... so much it hurts. I love you. So perfect, so beautiful, e-everything I’ve-” his words cut off sharply as his back arches, hips jerking enough that he buries himself to the hilt before letting you pull away. Every muscle in his body seems to shake with the effort of containing himself, the sensations manifesting as uncontrollable tears in his eyes that trail down his temples into his hair, matting it against itself. 

“Pleasepleaseplease-”

Both hands are what you need to hold him still, pressing down on his hips until he can’t roll himself upwards into the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your cheeks and tongue in search of the pleasure you’re offering him. There’ll be more time for him to be greedy later, to use you in whichever way he pleases. For now, there’s a point to be made, and that’s only done by you holding him still and worshipping him like he demanded be done not so long ago. 

“I-I’m going-... I can’t-”

Scaramouche throbs in your mouth, teetering on the edge physically and verbally. If he were any louder, you’re certain anyone would be able to hear him beyond these four walls. As the thought crosses your mind, so too does it strike him, as the hand on your cheek rips away in favor of slapping over his mouth to muffle the moan that accompanies him falling to pieces. 

Holding your breath and pushing yourself to your own limit, you take him whole and feel his release hit the back of your throat in a handful of steady bursts that come in time with him bucking against your iron-tight hold. Even muffled, the sounds that leave him are akin to some celestial song, ragged in its desperation and beckoning you to suck him further. Moans turn to groans turn to whimpers, hand falling away as he all but begs you to stop. 

You only do so when he grows soft on your tongue, his thighs shaking next to your head as his knees bend to curl in on himself. If you could get away with it, you’d hold him there and do it all over again, but a single glance at his face tells you that he’s spent. Red-cheeked, hair ruined, lashes thick with tears as he blinks toward the middle-distance lazily. 

He barely flinches as you tuck him away, righting his clothes enough that he’s decent. Even as you crawl up his body, settling yourself between his thighs and resting your cheek on his sternum. On anyone else, there’d be a heartbeat thudding in your ears - but all you hear is the remnants of his labored breathing, your head moving with the rise and fall of his chest. 

In a vain hope for the world to stop in its tracks, to give you a little longer in this moment, you murmur those magic words again. “I love you.”

Scaramouche doesn’t answer right away, though his hand does come up to curl around the back of your neck. He holds you there, fingers pressing gently against the muscles there, thumb moving in concentric circles that grow larger, then smaller. There’s no expectation for him to speak it again - once was enough. Once was all you’d need to hold on to for the sake of bringing yourself comfort. 

But despite his greed, Scaramouche can be rather generous when he wants to be. His own proclamation flutters over you like dandelion seeds, like sakura petals, like crystalflies that dance along your skin. 

“I love you. Centuries of life, and I’m convinced it was all meant for you.”

The years you’ve lived have been lost to time, their number far beyond your memory, especially after the tampering that happened while you slept for so long. But as he cranes his neck to press a kiss to the crown of your head, a subtle show of affection that holds immeasurable meaning, you can’t help but share the sentiment wholeheartedly. 

#where you willed the moon #scaramouche #wanderer #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #reader insert #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #mind the a/n for the content tags

[bookish-bogwitch]

Thanks @thewholelemon, @facewithoutheart, @ileadacharmedlife, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @aristocratic-otter, @nightimedreamersworld, @ionlydrinkhotwater for the tags the past couple weeks. Here are six a lot of sentences I cut from Basil Pitch's Diary, which for now is just one baby chapter but the rest of which is coming soon eventually to a browser near you.

This bit's inspired by the fact that there was a Parliament election in 2015. I cut it because it felt kind of clumsy--sticking jokes in the character's mouths that weren't necessarily in-character--and also had the small issue of being completely, utterly irrelevant to the plot. (At least that makes it spoiler-free 😅.)

Excerpt and tags below the cut:

FRIDAY 6 MARCH Blood units 4, body temp 25, hair ducal, civic engagement meh, political parties at least 3. 11 a.m. Politickal Science. Professor Kates had us debate tomorrow’s Normal Parliament election, presumably because he didn’t plan a real lesson. Had never paid much attention to Normal politics before reaching voting age. Unlike Bunce. “…And that’s why I’m voting Lib Dem,” she concluded after talking for eight solid minutes. “You’re sixteen,” objected Wellbelove.  “Not a problem,” said Bunce, flapping her ring hand.  From the back of the classroom, the pixie chimed in. “What about the Green Pa—” Bunce made a rude noise.  “What about you, Simon?” asked the professor. “How would you vote?”  Of course the Mage’s Heir gets a platform for his inane views. What a blow when he finds out there’s no Butter Union party. “Um,” orated Snow. “I … I dunno. Labour, probably.” Snow turned to Bunce. “Like, some of them are nutters, yeah, but they’d fund stuff. Like,” he reddened, “schools and, like, social programs.” “Those are already funded,” said Bunce. “Not enough.”  “You expect the government to solve all your problems,” I quoted my father automatically.  Snow gave me one of my own You’re an idiot looks. “I really don’t.”  Shit. How many times had he been asked to solve the World of Mages’s problems single-handed? Bunce was still fired up. “Simon, you can’t just dismiss Labor’s xenophobic—”  I thought about what Snow meant and missed the rest of Bunce’s rant about something something intersectionality. As if she would willingly intersect with a Normal. 4 p.m. Am torn. Pitches always vote Tory, just like we’ll always vote against the Mage once we get back the franchise. (Fiona has a plan to steal it.) A liberal government would drain our coffers even drier.  But in our borough voting Tory means re-electing a man who opposed same-sex marriage two years ago. The craven claimed he wasn’t homophobic, he just had homophobic constituents. Do not see why the straight unwashed should control my freedom to marry.  Even worse is the Tory ghoul from Aldershot who stumped about “the aggressive homosexual community” using marriage as “a stepping stone.” As if I wouldn’t pay double VAT to be stepped on by an aggressive homosexual. Still. Am not simpleton single-issue voter; marriage equality is a fait accompli. And anyway, I’d only ever want to gay-marry Snow, straight and unwashed though he is.  Felt weirdly proud of him today for disagreeing with Bunce, especially when I realized the professor had singled him out not as Mage’s Heir but as spokesnormal. And that “social programs” meant his entire childhood.  Hmm. SATURDAY 7 MARCH 10 p.m. Resolved politico-moral quandary by forgetting to vote.

Look, it wasn't my idea for Baz to be a Tory. That was all Rainbow. I also do think Penny has a centrist streak inherited from Mitali but I have no idea real how this would translate into the Normal world.

Thanks @facewithoutheart for gently pointing out that this was a complete tangent. And sorry and thank you @captain-aralias for the content beta. It's not your fault I asked you to explain UK politics and then didn't listen.

Tagging @cutestkilla, @fatalfangirl, @moodandmist, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @im-gettingby, and @petedavidsonscock.

#basil pitch's diary #baz pitch #simon snow #my writing #dead darlings

[symbioticsimplicity]

Four Guys Walk Into A Bar pt 5

This really is just gonna become a whole ass fic. We’re at 33 pgs y’all. 33 pages!

Little warning for Billy’s self talk. It’s pretty negative, and reflects opinions I don’t necessarily have about him, but I think Billy himself probably would. It’s nothing terribly graphic, but I figured I’d warn yall anyway.

Part 1!  Part 2!  Part 3!  Part 4!  AO3 link!

Tagging: @thelemonbandit @ihni @love-kurdt @thediktatortot @ghostlyjax

                                                                   *

It was forty-eight hours before Billy got a chance to sit the fuck down and breathe for a second.

They’d gone from hunkering down, to sharing… too much if he was honest, to finding the kids, to fighting for their lives. 

He barely remembered the fight, he’d mostly been riding on instinct, reacting to shouts of his name every so often. He’d saved Max at least twice that he knew of, Steve probably four times, and Hagan more than that. 

The only thing he really remembered was taking El’s hand at the end, the younger Byers slipping his hand into Billy’s other one. He’d felt her in his head again, but this time it felt less invasive, and more like solidarity. There had been a second presence, lighter than hers that he guessed was the Byers kid but had no time to really worry about it.

Together they’d pushed Vecna back, though he’d fought harder than even the mindflayer had. Like the cold, emptiness of dread without a source, he’d gnawed at Billy’s thoughts, tried to drag him back into the dark, even with El and Will bracing him it had nearly gotten him. Probably would have actually, if the others hadn’t linked up with them. It had been the three of them standing against a hurricane, until it wasn’t.

They’d been more faint than Will even, but he’d felt them. 

It had taken all of them, holding onto one another, funneling their strength into El, for them to over take Vecna. 

El had fainted once the deed was done, and for one horrible moment Billy had thought she’d died. She was cold to the touch, her breathing shallow, but her pulse had been strong when he and Hopper had frantically checked for it. 

Hopper and Mrs. Byers had taken her off to the hospital, Will, Jonathan, and Mike splitting off to go with them. 

That left the rest of the group, who all agreed without speaking that splitting up any further was just something they couldn’t do. So they’d all headed back to Steve’s given that his place was the only one big enough to house all of them.

Max had had her head leaned on his shoulder the entire ride, which wasn’t entirely unexpected so much as it was him still adjusting. Since he’d survived Starcourt, their relationship had improved tenfold. Like they’d gone from never being able to tell what the hell the other was saying, to speaking the same language down to the dialect. Max was a lot more similar to him than he’d ever wanted to admit, and now without the animosity in the way it was clear as day. It made his drive to protect her feel all the more intense, almost like by keeping her safe he could go back in time and give the same thing to himself. 

What surprised him more than Max though, was how Munson had wedged himself right up against Billy’s other side. He’d kept is fingers lightly wrapped around his wrist, right at his pulse point, seeming like he hardly even had to think about their proximity. 

That…was something Billy had been trying not to think about. Their proximity, or rather, how much Billy liked it. 

He’d stopped lying to himself years ago, he knew he liked men more than women (if he even liked women at all, which hindsight being 20/20 he really didn’t think he did). But that acceptance had come with the trade off of knowing he’d never let himself act on it. He’d die single before he proved his old man right about anything. 

But in the heat of the moment, under the liminal anonymity of midnight, the voice in the back of his head (the one that actually sounded like his own) had whispered that one little kiss didn’t have to prove anything to anyone. He’d already clinically died, hadn’t he? If he was going to bite it again for real, would it be so bad just to let himself be honest for one night?

But he hadn’t died, and neither had Eddie. Or Steve, or even Tommy for that matter surprisingly. They were all still here, and now they’d have to live with their choices.

Billy had bedded himself down away from the group when they’d all started settling down in Steve’s living room. No one seemed to think anything of it, though Steve had thrown him a look or two he couldn’t quite read. He thought he felt Tommy staring at him a time or two, too, but he’d always be looking away when he turned.

Munson, as usual, couldn’t be bothered to follow the status quo. He’d flopped himself down beside Billy, so close their legs were touching, snuggling himself down into the blankets before Billy could say a word.

“M’tired.” Eddie had mumbled, his big eyes blinking slowly shut, “Y’ll keep the mons’trs ‘way won’tcha, Sunshine?” 

Billy hated that nickname. Hated how it made him think about California, about days spent in the surf and sand, about the way his mother’s skin would tan under the sun, just like his own did now. It made him feel soft, and seen all at once and it was ridiculous that some guy he’d bought drugs from a handful of times before all this shit could make him feel any of that.

“Yeah.” He said instead, “Go to sleep.”

Eddie hummed, tucking himself a little closer than was wise with this many people around. But then again, after having nearly lost each other, everyone was laying a little closer than would be considered normal. 

Billy hesitated, so long his arm started to feel heavy where it was paused above Eddie’s head, so long he convinced himself to swallow the bubble of want and pleasedon’tleaveme and worst of all hope that was expanding in his chest. He lowered his hand, rather than threading it through Eddie’s hair like he’d wanted to. 

He really needed to get his shit together. 

Even if Neil wasn’t home anymore, even if he’d left them when Billy’s X-rays had started raising questions about how many old breaks he’d had that had healed poorly, how few of them were on his knuckles, even if Billy had started to believe that maybe he was gone for good… it still felt too dangerous. 

He wasn’t built to care for other people. He…wasn’t built to be cared for. He knew what he was, even if none of them had the guts to say it to his face. 

He was a killer. Had been headed that way long before the mindflayer hopped a ride in his meatsuit. It was probably why it had picked him. A guy like him didn’t have a whole lot of other prospects, not like Steve or even Eddie. Billy knew his type because he’d seen it every day in his father, had watched himself slowly break down and become just like him. Neil may never have killed anyone, but that was more to do with luck than intent. Billy knew that same rage was inside him, had let it hurt more people than he should have if he were actually worth a shit. So yeah, he’d been on the path to become a killer for years before he was forced into it. And killers didn’t deserve…this.

“Psst.” 

Billy glanced up, drawn out of his thoughts by the whisper from across the room. To his surprise he found Dustin looking back at him, out of all the kids.

His expression was serious in a way that didn’t suit him in the least. It reminded Billy of a small dog barking, maybe a miniature poodle. 

He was so distracted by that image he almost missed what the kid was mouthing to him.

‘Do it, you freakin’ dumbass.’ 

For a moment he just stared at him, not knowing what the hell he was talking about until he mimed running his hand through his hair. 

Billy went red all the way up to his hairline, turning his gaze away from the kid as if that would help. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve came and sat himself down next to them.

“The kid send you?” Billy asked quietly, mindful of Eddie snoozing away against his side.

“Yeah.” Steve said with a little smile, “Don’t worry though, not gonna badger you.”

Billy hummed appreciatively.

“Well, okay, not about that at least.” 

All gratitude dried up in an instant. 

“What, then?” Billy turned to glare at Steve. 

“Just kinda wondering.” Steve picked at nonexistent fuzz on the blanket Billy was wrapped in, “The other night…”

“Didn’t happen.” Billy cut him off, feeling his jaw work as he tried to shove back the way the words made his chest ache, “I’ll keep my mouth shut if you will.”

“That’s not--” Steve sighed, “You’ve really gotta work on not assuming the worst, man. Look, I don’t exactly know what the hell to call all that, I’m not great at…well any of this. But I don’t want to just ignore it.”

Billy chanced looking up at Steve and immediately regretted the decision. 

His brown doe eyes were so filled with sincerity, all but pleading for Billy to hear what he wasn’t saying. To make sense of what Steve himself couldn’t. 

He was barking up the wrong tree, “Well I do. Bad enough Munson won’t leave me the fuck alone now, don’t need you and Hagan getting all mooney eyed too.”

The look on Steve’s face almost made him take the words back. It was like watching a small crack spiderweb into thousands, all while the face on screen continued to smile. Steve’s hurt wasn’t as loud as Billy’s but that only made it cut deeper.

“Right.” Steve shook his head, “That’s, uh, yeah that’s fair. Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Buuuuulllllshit.” Tommy’s voice cut him off as the other brunette sat down beside Steve, “The fuck are you backpedaling for, I know you know he’s lying.”

Steve frowned at Tommy and Billy glared. He remained unaffected by either, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth casually. 

“I’m not.” Billy replied as firmly as he could manage.

“And I’m the Queen of fucking England.” Tommy rolled his eyes, “What you are is freakin’ the fuck out. Wanna know how I know?”

Billy didn’t reply but apparently he didn’t have to.

“Because I’m also freaking the fuck out. Like sure. I liked what we did, it was great, actually. Kinda want more. But without the whole ‘shit we might die tomorrow’ hanging over us, that means we’ve gotta admit that its for real. And that’s fucking terrifying.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded even though the speech wasn’t being directed at him, “Yeah pretty much.”

“You don’t know me, Hagan.”

“No? Am I wrong then? Were you not just having a whole meltdown before Steve came over?” Tommy propped his chin on his palm, “If that’s just your resting face, that blows.”

Billy licked his teeth, trying to figure out just how pissed off everyone would get with him if he just punched Tommy. Right in his pretty little nose. 

“I’m just saying, if you can Swartzenegger your way through a herd of interdimensional monsters, kissing boys should be a lot less scary in comparison.” 

“You done?” Billy asked flatly. 

“Depends, are you?” Tommy fired right back, “Cause half of the kids are out, and Steve’s room is a lot more comfortable than the floor. And I’m not gonna carry Munson up all those stairs. Handicap privilege.” 

He wiggled his now cleaned and stitched leg. 

“C’mon Billy.” Steve said softly, biting his bottom lip, his big soft eyes working their stupid puppy dog magic, “Just for the night?”

Billy had always been a sucker for pretty boys, damn him. 

“Fine. Just for the night.”                                                               *

‘Just for the night’ turned into ‘just until we leave’, then ‘just until the nightmares calm down’, and before long they stopped making excuses altogether. 

Rare was the night Billy didn’t end up in Steve Harrington’s bed, crushed by bodies on all sides. He’d never admit it, but it was the best sleep he’d gotten in his entire life. Fuck, it was the best he’d felt in years. 

He’d gotten The Look from Max one day (the one with the squinty eyes, furrowed brows and pinched up mouth that made her look closer to his age than her own) when he’d actually laughed at one of her dumb friend’s shitty jokes. She’d taken him aside and checked him for a fever, not believing him when he said he was just having a good day. In her own words, she’d “Never seen you smile before unless someone just ate shit or something”.

Billy had been a little irritated at that, he had good days! Not since he’d known her, but still he was allowed to change! Especially with Neil out of his goddamn life, and three new… people he was close with.

And he was. Close with them. He’d been utterly floored that their odd teamwork had translated from battle and dubious childcare, straight into living comfortably alongside one another. 

It was so goddamn weird, he’d never seen people actually get along, let alone as well as they all did. He’d certainly never been a part of it. But they just made sense. They worked, like each of them were cogs in the little machine that constituted their relationship. Whatever the hell that was. 

If Billy didn’t think too hard about it, things were perfect, but of course he’d always been prone to overthinking.

“What’s up, Buttercup?” Eddie leaned over the back of the lawn chair Billy was currently lounging on.

He poked him right between his brows where a crease had started forming. 

“Hm?” Billy hummed, blinking his way out of his thoughts.

“Smelt fire, figure you were probably out here brooding.”

“I don’t brood.” 

“Totally do. Very Batman like, but as the resident bat-freak, I can’t have you swooping in on my turf.”

Eddie walked around to face Billy, almost immediately choosing to straddle his lap instead. 

Out of all of them, Eddie was the most tactile. It was like the guy would die if he wasn’t touching someone constantly. It could be something as small as linked pinkies, but he’d always be in contact with them if he could. Though, he preferred things like this, better for laying claim as he’d said when Billy had asked.

“So what’s on your mind?” Eddie pushed his hair gently out of his face, hand sliding down to cup Billy’s cheek.

“Just…” Billy bit his tongue, working it between his teeth before he could force himself to continue, “Wondering. What we are. All of us.”

Eddie didn’t seem like he’d heard for a moment, his focus trained on where his hand was stroking Billy’s face. Billy wasn’t about to repeat himself, so if he hadn’t heard him, he’d just change the subject.

“We’re boyfriends, I think.” Eddie finally answered, “All of us.”

Billy scoffed, “Doesn’t work like that.”

“Oh yeah? And why not? Cause a buncha power hungry religious assholes from back in the day said it doesn’t? They said the same shit about wanting to kiss other guys in the first place, and they were wrong about that too.” Eddie tugged lightly at Billy’s bangs, “Society is fake, Sunshine. Do what makes you happy.”

Eddie’s lips quirked up into a malicious little smile, the one that made Billy’ heart race. He knew Eddie well enough now to know he was about as dangerous as a kitten, but he sure looked like trouble and Billy had always been more than a little in love with the dark side of life.

“Or who makes you happy.” He amended.

Billy couldn’t be sure if he pushed up or if Eddie pressed down, but their lips met and his worries seemed to fade back into obscurity. It was always easier when one of them was kissing him, like the whole world just went quiet for a while.

#billy hargrove #eddie munson #steve harrington #tommy hagan #the four idiots of the apocalypse #stranger things #steddie #stommy #harringrove #mungrove #harringroveson #haggingroveson #ha³son

[spicyhamsamson]

Finished Bayonetta 3 and I might as well give a review of it

I’m giving it a tag but if you’re seeing this anyway and still don’t want to be spoiled, this will contain spoilers for Bayonetta 3.

First off, how’s that gameplay? Is it fun?

…I mean, it’s a fucking Platinum game, of course the gameplay’s fun. The combat’s the same as ever: Really fucking good. The new weapons are super unique and all have a really good, distinct feel. I’m a huge fan of the new traversal abilities with each weapon, especially the yo-yo.(oh, what a surprise, the Spider-Man fan likes the weapon that lets you web-swing and wall crawl). I will say I miss being able to combine weapons, but if that trade off is required, I’d say it’s worth it. The new demon slave mechanic took a bit to get used to, but once I got the hang of it, I really enjoyed it.

Jeanne’s side missions are alright. Really not too much to say about them, they’re really just mini games.

Viola’s gameplay is pretty fun, and I liked the feel of both her sword and hand to hand combat. Wish the parrying worked more like Metal Gear Rising, it being on the same button as the rush down is…awkward, especially when I’m so used to the trigger dodge being my main “button that makes me not get hurt”, so the muscle memory makes it even more awkward.

And on the other hand, the story.

Okay, here’s the part that’s been… not as positively received across the board. This story is mixed, imo. There are moments in this story where I definitely thought “oh this is fucking awesome, I love this”. But there were also a lot of moments that left me confused or even outright disappointed.

The alternate Bayonettas fucking rocked. I loved each one of them doing stupid bullshit, and I loved how unique they all seemed, even though they’re literally all the same person.

I was mixed on Viola as a character, tbh. I liked her personality(characters who swear casually are cool), and her design rocks. But on the other hand, I saw her twist coming from a mile away, and I’m…not exactly sure what they were going for with her, tonally. In one scene, I’m supposed to take her completely seriously, but in another, she does a looney toons “looking down and realizing they’re about to fall” gag(not making that up, that genuinely happens). I’m not saying you can’t have a character be in both funny scenes and serious scenes, but I feel like this is literally going to the extremes with both, and it’s a bit much. Cheshire fucking rocks, though. Love that guy. What a freak.

Luka’s new werewolf thing was interesting, but fuck, it is not fleshed out enough. It just comes outta nowhere. There’s a bit of stuff involving alternate Lukas being involved, but we only see one alternate version of him across the whole story. If you wanna make Luka more important, fuckin’ commit to it, don’t half ass it like this.

And…I guess we should address the elephant in the room. A lot of people have talked about the ending, specifically with how Luka’s involved. So I might as well give my thoughts on it. To start off, I don’t think it’s necessarily a problem that Bayonetta ends up with a guy, or even that that guy is Luka. Like…sure, it’s disappointing for everyone who wanted Bayo and Jeanne to get together, but Bayonetta basically outright says she wants to fuck Luka during the first game, and it’s not like Luka’s flirting was always one-sided around her. She teases him back too, this isn’t completely out of left field. For me, at least, the bigger issue is that it’s weird to see Bayonetta get into a serious relationship with any one character. I think of Bayonetta as a character who flirts around a lot, but never really commits to one person, so to go from that to “Bayonetta is destined to be with Luka and they are literally compared to Adam and Eve” out of nowhere is jarring and unnatural imo.

The best character I could use as a comparison is probably Mary Jane Watson(woah, SpicyHamSamson talking about Spider-Man stuff? No wayyyy). MJ, when she first shows up, is a total party girl who flirts with pretty much everyone, but never commits to any specific person for long. Now you may be thinking “Well, hang on a sec, Spicy. Mary Jane ended up falling in love with Peter Parker. That’s committing to a specific person.” And you’re right! But that’s because there’s a specific event that causes Mary Jane to change as a person. And that’s the death of Gwen Stacy, someone both she and Peter cared about very much. Gwen’s death forces MJ to mature, and rather than run away from issues, she makes the decision to stay by Peter’s side and comfort him, as a friend. The tragedy of losing someone they care about brings them closer, and ultimately that leads to them falling in love. And it’s extremely powerful.

Bayonetta doesn’t do that, she just goes from flirting around to “destined to be with Luka forever”. And that just doesn’t work, because it comes out of nowhere. There’s no build up to it, it just happens. And that’s not good storytelling. Hell, Bayonetta and Luka barely interact during this game until the last few levels. If you’re gonna push a romance with some characters, at least show that development. Still, could’ve been worse.

And on a larger scale, the ending of this game just…clashes with the rest of the series tonally. Like, I get it, it’s meant to be bittersweet. But that just doesn’t feel right here. If this has to be Cereza’s swan song, sure. It should be a little bittersweet. But this is Bayonetta we’re talking about. This woman should be going out with a BANG. An encore of her most spectacular display of stupid badass bullshit that’ll blow you out of your seats and into a wall. One of the first things we as an audience saw this character do was suplex 15 angels at the same time. In the second game, her first action scene had her ripping her dress when she KICKS A JET INTO THE SKY. Bayo’s last stand here was really disappointing, especially because they had some really cool shit with the Bayonettas from the other two games showing up and then fucking FUSING with main Bayonetta? Like, that shit was BADASS.

And then they barely do anything with it.

Come ON, you guys, I know you can do better than that! Have all three Bayonettas summon their own Madama Butterfly’s and have them play fuckin’ basketball with the final boss! Let me see Madama Butterfly DUNK a motherfucker.

This is Bayonetta’s farewell tour, and frankly, her final performance just doesn’t seem to hit the way it should. Which is disappointing, because they’re not really gonna get a chance to redo that.

With all that said, I’d say the story is still enjoyable. It’s not great, but with a few exceptions, you won’t be miserable sitting through it.

That being said, if you’re getting this game, it’s probably for the gameplay, and if you’re interested in that, I’d definitely recommend it.

#bayonetta #Bayonetta 3 #Luka #Bayonetta 3 spoilers #bayonetta spoilers #Jeanne #viola #review #platinum games

[polizwrites]

Make Way for a Fabulous Tomorrow

Another belated fill for the WinterIron Pride Prompt Party!  

WI PPP Day 13: Audacity Title: Make Way for a Fabulous Tomorrow Rating: General Pairing(s):  Bucky/Tony Warnings/Triggers/Tags: Pride Parade, coming out publicly, rainbow capitalism is not necessarily a bad thing. Summary:  Bucky asks Tony about SI’s involvement in Pride events.   Word Count: 407

“So, how many pride parades has SI been involved in?”  Bucky asked, staring up at the gigantic float that the two of them - as well as several other Avengers - would be riding on the following day.   Nearly two dozen employee volunteers were putting the finishing touches on the decorations - including the multi-colored motto:   “Making Way for a Fabulous Tomorrow”  

Bucky was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that companies were willing to recognize and support the queer community.   Sure, Natasha complained about something called “rainbow capitalism”, and how come July first,  things would be back to business as usual, but it still seemed pretty amazing to him.

“Twelve years,” Tony replied, “although this is my fifteenth, personally.  I’d just come out as Iron Man, and was still kind of riding high on all that.  So I grabbed the keys to the convertible and drove up the PCH to San Francisco.  On the way, I had JARVIS make a few phone calls and the next day, I was chauffeuring a couple of  seventy-year old queens in full regalia down Market street.”      

“Sounds like fun.”

“It really was, until I got made,”  Tony grinned wryly at the memory.”    A local reporter caught up with me at the festival.  Must’ve thought  he had a juicy story on his hands, or that I’d pay him off to keep quiet.   I told him the truth:  I was bisexual.”

“I thought you were pansexual,” Bucky commented.

“I am now, but wasn’t as familiar with the labels - or myself - at the time.  Anyways -  turns out he was bi, too.”   Tony waggled his eyebrows;  Bucky chuckled and shook his head fondly.  “He did ask, afterwards,  if I was ready to come out of the closet.  I said I was, and he got one hell of a scoop.”

“How’d that go over with Pepper, and the SI board?”

“Pepper wasn’t too surprised,” Tony shrugged, “but a few board members lost their shit and tried to have me ousted.  Funny enough, the relative that Stane left his shares of the company to  turned out to be trans and became one of my steadfast supporters.  Obie’s probably still spinning in his grave over that, so to speak.  Obviously, the attempt failed, and now SI is at the top of the list of Best Places to Work for the LGBTQ+ community.”

“Thanks to you setting the example, sweetheart.”  Bucky replied, knowing it would make Tony blush.  

#writing stuff #fanficlet #mcu/marvel #WinterIron #winteriron pride prompt party #Shameless Self Promo

[simons-twsted-children]

Hihi! Here with some character dynamic!! ❤️♦️♣️♠️🌹 for Klaus please? Thank you!

My bunny boy!

So I’ve actually only really thought about his relationship with Riddle, and even that was through the lens of his friendship with Fiamma, so this will be an interesting series of dynamics to explore?

Feel like I should also say before all of this that Klaus has some pretty high walls before he considers someone a friend at this point, bc he’s been bullied pretty badly for quite a while. So if it seems like a lot of this is him being antagonistic or uncharitable, it’s more of a defense mechanism than anything?

Preemptively tagging @inmateofthemind because a good chunk of this will be pertinent to our musing with him and Fia? (Especially the last bit)

I feel like he probably has a rocky start with Ace, generally jumping off with the assumption that Ace’s brash nature means he tends towards bullying (something that Klaus has had to deal with for far too long and has 0 tolerance for). Which probably causes some unnecessary tension between the two of them until something corrects Klaus’ perception, and he realizes that Ace is a bro, actually, even if he is a bit of a loud slacker? (Which. To be fair. Klaus is the king of doing things last-minute, so—) I think they actually end up having a decent bit in common, especially the tendency to call out injustice where they see it and pick fights with mages far stronger than them, so they probably end up being decent friends by the end of the first exchange, at least?

Cater is an interesting one, because I wonder if Cater wouldn’t see Klaus as a cute magical opportunity, because of his bunny features? I don’t think he’d -mean- anything by it, or even suggest it in anything less than a friendly way, but I don’t think Klaus would react well to being approached for his cuteness alone. I think he’d probably generally steer clear from Cater, especially once the generally hands-off nature of Cater’s friendships becomes clearer? Klaus isn’t one to put in effort with someone who doesn’t reciprocate a friendship in kind, even if Cater REALLY needs someone to put in that effort, for his own sake as much as anything. (Lookin at you, @ramshacklerumble)

Klaus would probably initially write Trey off as a pushover, always doing damage control for Riddle and seeming to let the other students walk all over him. But once he realizes that Trey has a mischievous and prideful streak a mile long, Klaus’ respect for him would grow. I don’t think they’re friends, persay, but I think Klaus probably sees something kindred in Trey, not necessarily in how he -presents- himself, but in what he actually -does-? (Specifically referencing Trey’s dorm uniform vignette here, in the context of what would cause Klaus to change his opinion on Trey. The sort of, “you think you can do this better? Alright. I’d like to see you try.” And then him preparing a contingency plan in the background anyway bc he knows the freshmen are gonna totally fail, etc.)

I actually think Klaus probably warms up to Deuce faster than Ace? If only because he basically looks at this boy and goes “oh bless your heart, you’re trying.” Deuce might be a dumbass, but he makes a point of trying to be a good dude, whereas Ace just kinda speaks his mind constantly even if what he says isn’t always. Complementary? Basically I think he’d respect the obvious effort Deuce us putting in to be someone his mom can be proud of, even if Klaus generally doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. (If this is incomprehensible I’m so sorry, I’m very sleepy but wanted to get this out before I forgot BEJEJCJDJF)

And Riddle! His best friend’s beau! I actually think Klaus probably VERY MUCH DOES NOT LIKE HIM, at first? Because I think Riddle probably gives him shit early on for “misusing his signature spell” (which is a time displacement sort of thing?) Klaus absolutely would not take kindly to even the threat of having his magic sealed, especially noting that it is also his main defense against Penny and Ruby, his and Fiamma’s major bullies. Also to note that Klaus would not have been around for Riddle’s Overblot, so he would have NO IDEA about his trauma or Why He’s Like That until he’s directly told by Riddle, Fia, or someone else. Once he finds out, and especially once Fia makes clear her interest in Riddle, his attitude towards him mellows out substantially, and he eventually grows to call Riddle one of his best friends as well, I think. (Even if he does still, lovingly, joke about how stuffy Riddle’s adherence to rules can be, it’s in a much more endearing tone than annoyed)

If you would like clarification on any of this, I’d be more than happy to give it btw!!!

#TWST #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #my ocs #twst oc #ask game

[flourdove]

Unordinary last name hcs

90% of these are me stealing headcanons from different people Something i always wonder about: do children typically inherit their last names from their mother or father? i personally don’t think john counts as an example because he didn't grow up with his mother and we don’t even know if william and jane were married. (+ i don't think we hear him be referred to with william’s last name) i believe that last names are based off of a family’s abilities? like, families with defensive abilities will have a last name relating to defensive stuff or whatever. anyways. i have specific nitpicks with last names, the letters they start with, and the way they roll off the tongue.

skipping JOHN for this post since DOE fits him well enough already. for ISEN, i’d have him have his last name be JAEGER. its a German surname that means ‘hunter’ and i think it just rolls off the tongue well too. i saw a couple people use it and i was like !! wow. that fits really well.  ARLO would probably be a French last name or something vaguely defense-related. imo names starting with A go pretty well with B last names, so, ARLO BASTION (a kind of fortification tower) or ARLO BEAUFORT (beautiful fortress).

BLYKE, i think would have a Chinese/Korean last name (personal hc that he’s Asian lmao). a few surnames i think that sound nice / sort-of fit him are: YUN  (korean - meaning governor), ZHU (chinese, meaning crimson) and lastly, LIANG (meaning a bridge or a beam). i tried to do some vague symbolism & references ot his ability on the last two !! was quite indecisive with blyke gfghj

SERAPHINA is the character i had the most trouble trying to find a suitable last name for, like, its just so hard. kept trying to find last names relating to ‘time’ that sounded right with her first name and it was atrociously difficult. some other hcs of other people were “levin” and another, “albrecht” that fits better but they didn’t ring right w me. i eventually ended up with KAIROS (meaning the exactly right time to do/say a certain thing in ancient Greek), and/or YULE (celebration of the winter solstice, doesn’t necessarily fit with the “time” theme but i thought it sounded nice) REMI i think would have a Japanese last name, since rei and remi are both Japanese names (rei meaning departed soul and remi meaning heavens, sky) A few fitting surnames i found are: AMETSUCHI (meaning heaven & earth) or TENKUBASHI (meaning heaven sky bridge). yep, lots of symbolism on the lightning ability.  tag w your uno last name hcs . i am hungry ;

#unordinary #unordinary headcanon #unordinary arlo #unordinary blyke #unordinary isen #unordinary seraphina #unordinary remi #episode 177 when arlo is called mr. arlo #uru chan just give them last names #its Not that hard #flourspeaks

[lizhly-writes]

AITA WIP Game

hellloo, @likegemstone! i realize it's been a while, but thank you for the tag! i got stuck in a loop 1) trying to figure out how to write an AITA post 2) trying to find an area where my protag would genuinely wonder if he was an asshole, but! here we are!

Rules: Introduce your WIP in the style of a r/AmItheAsshole inquiry.

tagging! @evanescentdawn @inkstaindusk @juruna-yudja @doksangs and uh, anyone else who wants to take this, i guess!

AITA for asking to open up my relationship?

Look.  I know this already sounds bad.  Let me explain.  

I (M24) have been engaged to my fiancée (F25) for years.  Our parents were friends, so they set this up when we were kids.  We pretty much grew up knowing we were going to get married, but I’d say overall, we get along well and I’m happy enough with it.

I don’t think my fiancée is happy enough with it.

Some more background: we have this former classmate (F24), who I’ll call “Mei” for now.  In university, she took up pretty much all of my fiancée’s attention.  There was a lot of drama involved.  Even when my fiancée was with me, she was always talking about Mei.  Not in a good way, necessarily, but I’ve known my fiancée pretty much my entire life.  She wouldn’t be so invested if she wasn’t at least a little interested. 

Anyway, things happened, we graduated, Mei dropped off the radar, my fiancée stopped obsessing, and I’m still making this post, because they ran into each other maybe six months ago and it’s like we never left university, except worse.  Mei’s always attracted drama, but it’s like her capacity for it has levelled up, and it almost always ends up dragging my fiancée in.   

We didn’t set a date, exactly, but we were going to sit down and start wedding planning this year.  It keeps getting pushed off -- she’s always busy, she’s always dealing with some emergency, half the time, those emergencies have to do with Mei -- and at this rate, I just don’t think it’s going to happen.  

I hear her talk about Mei, and it’s always how she’s annoying but she’s so talented and so smart and so pretty and has so much potential, it’s a waste that Mei doesn’t have any backing and it’s a shame to let someone like that rot, and I could go on, but you get the point, right?  

I want to end the engagement, but for certain reasons I don’t want to get into right now, I can’t do it myself.  My fiancée can, but she never would, she’s very filial to our parents, and also, both our families are invested in this for more than just emotional reasons.  But I feel like if I let things go along this way, it’s just going to be very messy.  She’ll end up discontent for no reason she can put her finger on, maybe resenting me as the drama piles up, and then maybe this situation will implode in our faces and the engagement will end anyway, and, I don’t know, I’ll end up in jail possibly.  

I figured I could stop at least some of this by opening up our relationship a little.  She gets the SO she actually wants, and I stop thinking she’s resenting me for being an obstacle in her whirlwind romance.  I don’t think this is the perfect solution -- I’m not even really sure it’s sustainable? -- but it should at least work better than what’s happening so far.      

I tried to bring this up with her last night, and she… took it more poorly than I thought she would.  She got angry and accused me of trying to get rid of her.  She started talking about my apparently low opinion of her sense of duty and honor, and how could I possibly think that of her and how could I possibly think that she’d cheat on me, what kind of person did I think she was, etc.  It was messy.  

I didn’t think I said anything wrong, but I’m not feeling great about it.  She’s never gotten this mad at me before.  I feel like I need to bring this up again and talk it out, but was I being the AH for bringing it up to begin with?

#tag games #my writing #transmigrated as the female lead's villain fiance #i'm a boy who transmigrated into a gl novel what am i supposed to do now?! #everything

[benbamboozled]

Okay as someone who only tangentially knows about nightwing, I enjoyed the grayson series. I'm a whole-ass lesbian but watching him walk shirtless through a desert carrying a baby? I suddenly understood the whole "being straight" thing. Grayson cured my heterophobia lololol.

ANYWAYS it seems like you've actually read other nightwing comics so I was wondering what your take on the grayson series is? Is it OOC? If not, do you have any other comic recs where I can 👀 that 🍑?

Lol I actually haven’t read Grayson! Because…lol, okay, THIS IS STUPID I AM FULLY AWARE OF THAT, but because I resent the idea that Dick Grayson needed a series where he’s ALSO a super cool hot spy who’s a badass hot spy. ~~~OOOOH GOOD FOR YOOOOOU!!!!~~~

(Yes this is one of my personal foibles, sometimes I resent things for existing because I am odd and petty.)

I’ve thought about reading it for The Pretty, but I know certain fandom circles are, uh…less than enthusiastic about it, and certain other character fans are less than enthusiastic about it (*cough* Midnighter), so I just haven’t decided that I’m open to potentially being grumpified in favor of The Pretty yet.

Basically, I absolutely cannot speak on how IC or not it is. 🙃 I do know that I’ve read two things by Tim Seeley—one I like that a lot of people don’t (Robins) and one that was ABSOLUTELY ATROCIOUS LIKE TERRIBLE ON EVERY POSSIBLE LEVEL GAG VOMIT UGGGHHHH (Countdown to the Wedding: Red Hood vs Anarky—do not punish yourself with this it is so bad).

Sooooo I have no idea what that says about whether or not I’d appreciate Grayson!

Honestly, though, my Dick Grayson absorption is all over the map, so I’m not so much a great person to give recs I think.

Like, my foundational Dick run (hm) was Devin Grayson’s Nightwing run and, uh, that run is CONTROVERSIAL (to put it mildly), for some reasons that I agree with and some that I don’t. It also left me with a…very particular set of preferences when it comes to Dick Grayson In Comics.

(You know how 1984 starts with “imagine a boot stamping on a human face—forever”? Yeeeeeahhhh.)

If you’re in just for the pretty, the current Nightwing run—Leaping Into the Light (kind of a soft-reboot of the premise starting with #78 of the 2016 run)—is REALLY gorgeous. Like…wow. Not so much on a beefcake level necessarily, but like…gorgeous man f-i-n-g-e-r-s-t-r-i-p-e-s acrobatics long legs strong back mmmmmmmm. (I cannot be more coherent than that, just…guh.)

(I do NOT keep up with this book for the plot. The plot is…sigh. Lackluster. And the characterization is…kind of generic. AND IT TOOK NIGHTWING #93—A CONTROVERSIAL YET IMO GROUNDBREAKING ISSUE—AND BASICALLY RE-DID IT IN A WAY I FIND FRANKLY PRETTY OFFENSIVE BOTH TO STORYTELLING IN GENERAL AND THE WAY IT TREATED THE ISSUES ORIGINALLY HANDLED IN THE COMIC. ANYWAY like I said, I’m shallow and into it for the pretty pictures. Also it’s DC, and my evergreen tag “comics are bad and I hate them” is evergreen for a reason.)

I’m certain that other people who follow me have better recs/suggestions, so if anyone who follows me has insight on Grayson or feelings about good Nightwing runs for (*cough*) 🍑-purposes and wants to chime in, feel free! Reblog, reply, whatevs!

(Just, you know…if you have STRONG feelings, try to remember the “don’t yuck someone’s yum” principle. Criticism/analysis+discussion is great, but I try to keep things not suuuuper OTT negative. I don’t want anyone to feel bad about liking things.)

(No yucking anyone’s yum unless it’s Tim Seeley writing Red Hood vs. Anarky. I will never be nice about that comic and nobody can make me.)

Hopefully you’ll get some better info, anon!

#ask answered #in a very roundabout and rambling way that boils down to ‘I don’t have a good answer’ sigh. #Dick Grayson #Nightwing #i have seen some panels of RiC gRaYsOn that have made me Intrigued (tm) ngl. #i am a shallow beast at heart. #hopefully some of these words were useful. #god Bruno Redondo…I resent your eye for aesthetics because otherwise I could just look away.