#and that I think Pond is STUPID HOT

[kennyomegasweave]

I caved and started watching Never Let Me Go despite usually not watching shows as they air because I like to marathon things. These are my live thoughts on episodes 1-3. Let's go.

Ep. 1:

Damn. The dad got Bruce Wayne'd in the first scene. And on his kid's 18th birthday. Guaranteed he ain't liking his birthday anymore.

This mom is a bad bitch. Nothing better happen to her. Also they're like this 18 year old is in charge of the family and all that and like he's 18. But his mama is a bad bitch.

OOO SHADY UNCLE WE ARE 10 MINUTES IN AND GOT A SHADY UNCLE. And possibly cousin. 👀👀👀

MY MAN HAS SHOWN UP ON A BOAT. Oh I'm guessing he's poor. lol

Oh this rich baby is already struggling. Also he's getting bullied??? Excuse me. He's wealthy???

Did this young man make it to 18 with no friends at school??? What is going on. No wonder he's gonna get sprung on his first friend hired to protect him.

Oh shit my man is fine as hell. I'm stuck.

Oh I figured out why they're bullying the wealthy kid, I think they're all rich kids cause my man showed up and they were like I DONT RECOGNIZE HIS NAME HE LOOKS POOR. lol

"We can wins thousands on playing basketball at lunch cause everyone bets." My man is like ...what. Like some of us are poor Steven. lol

Oh main kid is like LEAVE ME ALONE GO WITH YOUR FRIENDS YOU ALREADY HAVE my baby really has no friends. OMG THE KIDS ARE LIKE YOU KNOW HIS MOM HIRED SOMEONE TO KILL HIS DAD. Y'all is rude as hell. Just you wait until my man becomes his man cause y'all are gonna get WRECKED. I can taste it. lol

Oh shady uncle has shown up. Shady ass bitch. I don't trust him.

MAMA IS A BAD BITCH. Just out here putting shady uncle in his place. Although like I can't 100% say she didn't have her husband killed but I also know that the shady uncle very well may have. TRUST NO BITCH. I just love seeing women slap down men.

Dude this dude is stupid hot I cannot even focus. lol

Baby just realized my man is here as kinda his bodyguard. Like bro that was obvious. Oh baby. He's not handling his babysitter well. He's being rude. Don't be rude. You're gonna fall in love with this boy.

Aww he just asked him to be his friend, not a bodyguard. Baby really is out here alone. That's so sad.

"Your job is to protect Nuengdiao. This could be a lifelong job for you." Well I mean I'm guessing he does and it is cause they're gonna fall in love.

Ep 2:

"Have you ever had eggs Benedict?"

I've never heard of it.

"It's breakfast for rich people."

Why do rich people need so many breakfast dishes?

"So he can chose what he wants." I screamed. Eat the rich. Though I'm guess Palm will be eating the rich later. HEY OH.

Nueng really is precious cause he just doesn't seem to understand he's rich and rich people like don't act this way. Baby just wants friends so badly. lol

Oh here's Palm's dad being like "we are the help we can't be eating at the table" and poor Nueng is like I JUST WANT A FRIEND. I'm guessing Palm's dad is really not gonna handle them falling in love well.

AWW HE WANTED TO DRIVE TO SCHOOL TOGETHER. My boy is just lonely as hell.

Not the teacher picking Palm to speak Mandarin as if he studied it at all. PEOPLE ARE POOR STEVEN.

Oh possible shady cousin is now Palm's tutor. "Oh you're from the beach? You worked on a fishing boat? That's so cool!" He's one step away from like I've never met a poor person before. lol

Oh Palm just learned Nueng gets bullied. He doesn't look pleased. As I said I'm sure these dudes will be getting WRECKED at some point. Also okay maybe shady cousin isn't that bad. But they're clearly not friends.

This class president doesn't seem like a bad dude but I'm also like what is your motive. Oh maybe he's just a good dude? Don't know that, neither does Nueng.

Oh does the cousin who is possibly not shady like the class president? Who is now trying to be close to Nueng? Oh the tangled weave of feelings we have. lol

NUENG JUST PUT PALM'S HAND ON HIS NECK AND PALM IS GETTING THE VAPORS. SAME.

"At school I can be your friend but here I am your employee." Oh baby don't listen to your dad, Nueng wants to be your friend. But also like Nueng you kinda are his boss and like you can't do that.

Oh not shady uncle having his kid there while he's cutting off fingers of dudes. Okay, I'm gonna go with I don't think Chopper is a bad dude. His dad is def wanting a coup. Oh he better not poison Chopper. He seems sweet.

NOT THE UNCLE SAYING WE COULD KILL THEM BOTH. Chopper wasn't even down for cutting off fingers of people stealing and he's like WE COULD KILL YOUR AUNT AND COUSIN to him. SIR.

Chopper better get his man, the Class President, and be cute somewhere away from his flop ass dad.

Aww Nueng just got Palm permission to use the pool in front of his dad. I've only had Nuengdiao for an episode and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill his shitty uncle and everyone else in the room.

What the hell? Y'all are late so you gotta do push-ups? Thailand don't play. Oh snap and here comes Nueng late and the teacher's like oh you don't have to do them. No fucking wonder the kids all make fun of him. Y'all are creating hatred in their hearts.

Oh Class President is Ben. And Chopper is sprung. Chopper's only interested in stocks and bitcoin? Don't do my boy like that. Don't make him a Reddit Bro. Oh he's jealous af. He's also a bad liar. Okay I've only had Chopper for like 15 minutes and I would kill his dad for him. Also, damn Ben just went off about how much he likes Nueng and you can see Chopper's heart breaking.

Oh he wants to watch Palm swim? I get it. He's stupid hot. I understand Nueng in this scene because I am Nueng.

"Music's an art and you play sports." Palm's little offended face. lol

Oh the boldness of Maggie. I like her but it's also like girl how can you see Palm's face watching Nueng play and be like "oh I'm interested in this one." Ma'am. He was stuck hearing Nueng play.

Nueng is jealous of Maggie. Palm is catching feelings for his 100% off limits boss.

Palm straight up whooping those dudes. Nueng was scared and horny. Aww he bought all that man's food. Palm helped him by saving him physically from being robbed and Nueng helped him with money. They compliment each other and they don't even know yet. 🥹🥹🥹

Not Palm showing up and interrupting Nueng and Ben's flirting and being like ABSOLUTELY NOT. A jealous baby. But it's also so sad because like he can't just be cute and flirty with the boy he likes cause he's his employee and just ugh.

"I didn't have any questions, I just thought he was being an ass to you." No baby you were jealous. But it's okay.

Oh Nueng laying it down to Palm and his dad. Just straight up ordering them. I mean, if Palm's dad is so big on "they are our bosses" he's gotta listen to Nueng.

Ben witnessing the potential hit. Are we supposed to think he's shady? Cause I don't want to believe that. I think he was just watching the cute boy he likes cause you know that's what you do in high school.

Nueng 100% has a point. If he's supposed to a leader and in charge, they can't keep him in the dark. But I get Mama's point. That's her baby. She's like absolutely nothing can happen to him. I get that. But also like ma'am how can you be like "take care of him physically and emotionally." Please don't let Nueng think Palm only likes him as an order.

Ep 3:

I do kinda feel for Palm's dad because I get it's kinda like a situation for him cause he is an employee of a wealthy family and he's like "we are the help" and that's never led him wrong before and now Nueng's like breaking norms for his kid and that's gotta be weird. But also like they gonna fall in love dude you gotta accept it. Most people would love it if their kid was taken in by a kind rich man. lol

Nueng just saying "we're a good match. You have muscles I have a brain" and wrecking Palm. Play Usher's U Got It Bad for Palm. lol

Why doesn't Palm have a tie? I need someone familiar with Thai schools to help me. Because I'm really sitting here like "it's cause he's poor." And I know that's not right but it amuses me. lol

That dude trying to bully Palm and Nueng saying not on his watch bitch.

But damn they go hard in Thailand cause they're like YOUR DEAD DAD SUCKED and that's ice cold.

I've gone back to trust no bitch about anyone not Nueng or Palm. Like Ben, why are you asking about Palm? I'm sure it's just cause he's jealous but I'm also like ...is that all? NUENG DON'T TELL BEN ALL THIS. Ben just shooting his shot. I honestly don't know if I don't trust him or if I'm just like LEAVE MY MAN'S MAN ALONE. lol

Palm's assorted button ups are A+ and I would like them in my wardrobe.

Palm really is out here watching Nueng play piano like it's the greatest thing he's ever seen. My boy is sprung.

NO YOU DID NOT DO THAT BENJAMIN. HOW DARE YOU. Fuck off. "I'm the class president I can handle it no one's trying to kill him." Like he didn't witness that motorcycle confrontation. I don't trust him anymore. I don't like this bitch. I don't trust this bitch.

Maggie really out here like Palm come to this party for me. While he's watching Nueng sprung. Ben being all DON'T INVITE HIM. You speak when spoken to, BEN. And nobody fucking spoke to you. Maggie just being like come dance with me." "Girl are you deaf? He wants to get with Jeff." Also Ben being like let's dance together while Nueng's watching Palm dance with a girl all sadly. Get a clue.

Damn. The longing. They are both dancing and they are both dancing with the wrong person who they don't wanna be dancing with. THE LONGING. They keep looking at each other. I don't understand at all how Ben and Maggie are pushing on. It's embarrassing.

Nueng looking at pictures of Ben but thinking of Palm. And getting jealous of Maggie. Girl he don't want Maggie. He's legit sitting in bed day dreaming about dancing with you. Play Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by John Mayer.

Okay. I stil think Mama is a bad bitch but I'm also don't think she may be the best like business person? I don't know. I have no knowledge of business. lol

Also. Where is Chopper? I miss my boy. I am back to thinking he's shady based on nothing except he's clearly sprung on Ben's flop ass but I don't care. I will stand with my wife.

Okay, it's hot but like why does Palm know how to shoot? And shoot so well? He's so mysterious and sexy. Palm says he fights for love. I like that in a man. Also he kept going and Nueng's face was getting more and more thirsty. Same girl. Same.

Oh so now we're getting to the point where I think Nueng is becoming aware of the ~tension~ between them. Yes. Yes god. Nueng is looking at Palm shooting, and shooting well, like he's ready to risk it all in that shooting range. Same girl. SAME.

MY BOY IS HERE. Not Nueng asking him about Ben cause Ben has a crush on him and he's trying to be interested. Don't make my boy give you advice on how to mack on his crush. "He can't stay close to someone." The subtle don't like my man please. Oh Chopper.

NOT SHADY UNCLE SAYING CHOPPER CAN TAKE OVER THE BUSINESS CAUSE NUENGDIAO HAS NO INTEREST. Chopper's already told you he don't want it. Take my SON'S name out your mouth.

Chopper out here like damn Palm you built. This is a homosexual. Shady Uncle really is the worst. And I will not learn his name. He's really out here threatening everyone every two seconds. My dude. Get a grip.

Palm's feelings are hurt cause Ben's hating ass said he was a servant. And Nueng's like no I didn't call you that! But his feelings are still hurt. Sad babies.

That's right Nueng. Put a tracker in your shit. Oh Nueng can't fight. But his man sure can. And that dude fucked up by touching Nueng. Damn he put him in the ICU.

And here's flop ass Ben. "Sorry I didn't help." No need for you sir Nueng's man put a dude in the hospital AND got his necklace back all while you were useless somewhere else.

"Are you scared of me?" Palm, he thought that was hot as hell. Let's be real. And his "you gotta let me get hurt sometimes." Yeah baby I don't think he'll be doing that. Ever. You got a man that will whoop ass for you. Cherish it.

In conclusion. I am so into this show. I'm mad I can't just watch it all in one go. I don't know how I'm supposed to watch all this on only a weekly basis.

1. Nueng and Palm better end up married with two cats and a dog.

2. Chopper is my son, my wife, my confidant, my silly rabbit. He may be shady, we don't know yet, I don't care. I'm prepared to stand with my cancelled wife if it comes to it.

3. I need all of these episodes out like now.

#never let me go #regular clyde #I am so into this show I cannot #all I knew going in is they end up together #and that I think Pond is STUPID HOT

[boxwinebaddie]

i'm sorry but everyone actually has to know that if ravesey ever get married in a formal ceremony ( which, oh my god, is this real??? hello ) ravenstan totally got up on stage and crimson dawn dropped the Hardest punk rock cover of kiss me by sixpence none the other...Ever

#nina speaks #listen i know that went crazy #and it was cute lmao #crimson dawn taking y2k chick flick romcom songs and punk rockifying them and freaking them is so iconic to me #i bet you stan leaned down and kissed kyle on the hand and winked and kyle rolled his eyes literally blushing lmaooooooo #also pls note ravenstan did in fact kiss him under the milky twilight and lead him out on the moon lit floor <333 #they did also cover style by taylor swift i'm afriad #also sorry i might be posting a lot bc i feel criminally insane tonight #all the candid footage taken of jersey is him getting rizzed #and then flipping off the camera #also the jewish mexican fusion went crazy stupid jersey said his vows in spanish and ravenstan said his in hebrew ;-; <3 #and marjorine cried like a baby...kenny...also cried #don't look @ me i can't think abt my kids gettin hitched #the box wine & stanley marsh smolders were free flowing btw #not for raven he was having a mocktail i love u baby :* #jersey tho? he was veeeery drunk lol #it was at starks pond and a lovely autumn evening #like jersey talked about in his letter to stan for his bday #and the stars were all out at night for the reception #literally because crimson dawn were tearing it up #i refuse to believe stan didn't sing at his own wedding #he totally ate and left no crumbs bitch #hot shit bad boy behavior

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2

summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!

The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath. 

The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line. 

You weren’t exactly happy about this.  

The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach. 

Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you. 

Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —

the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that. 

If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily. 

Maybe. 

Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared. 

But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee. 

Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one. 

She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger. 

You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never. 

You weren’t a child.

Just wanted to be one, sometimes.

Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed. 

Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See. 

He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time. 

Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did. 

Win some, lose some, I guess.

Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five. 

Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention. 

You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.

You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?   

Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you. 

That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.

The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways. 

A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong. 

The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat. 

At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall. 

Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention — 

and you slipped. 

The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge. 

The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height. 

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally. 

Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle. 

You’d made it?  

No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening! 

Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd. 

But. 

One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.

You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.

You were chosen. 

It wanted you as its rider. 

If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.  

The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly. 

You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw. 

Firstborn daughter excellence. 

Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong. 

Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling. 

“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”

The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you. 

You were all alone. 

The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement. 

Right. 

You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life. 

Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.

Flying! He wanted to fly! 

The first flight sealed the bond, after all. 

You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step. 

The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night. 

The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine. 

You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you. 

And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos. 

No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun. 

Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.

When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory? 

Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.    

Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.

And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. . 

 Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up. 

Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this. 

But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!

“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”

Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick. 

Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”

“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”

The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.” 

“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”

“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”

“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”

You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core. 

“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.” 

All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’

You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.

One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood. 

An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.

“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”

Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”

“How much longer?”

“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”

What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”

This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in. 

His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation. 

He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child. 

It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first. 

Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.

Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.   

His teenage daughter. Scared him. 

Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place. 

The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore. 

He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely. 

And then he didn’t. 

“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”

Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”

“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”

Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut. 

His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”

“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”

Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”

This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before. 

Here we go again, Jake thought.

“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”

“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”

He grimaced. “I have to—”

“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”

“They trust me plenty.”

“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”

“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”

“They won’t if you never tell them.”

“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”

“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.” 

“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”

“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”

Because he had gone too far already with the older three. 

Trial and error. 

He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step. 

A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning. 

Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.  

He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.” 

Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.  

“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”

“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”

“Dad—”

Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”

Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”

He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”

“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”

Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.  

Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”

“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.

“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?” 

Silence.

The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—” 

Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”

“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”

He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”

His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.  

Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.

A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face. 

When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble. 

“Neytiri?” 

She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear. 

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝 #📖: light

[luveline]

Hi jadeybabes!! Like everyone else I’m adoring the soulmate prince au and I’m wondering if we could have a peek into Steve’s thoughts and feelings about finding his soulmate after searching so long and rushing to a quick wedding even though they hardly know each other?

Like we’ve seen reader’s apprehension and insecurities mixed up with just how kind and pretty she thinks he is, and I’m wondering what’s going through Steve’s head? Love you!

hi lovely, love u ♡ prince!steve au fem, 1.2k

His private gardens are silent beyond the low hum of dragonflies zipping across the pond and the creak of his hammock. The old trees he's suspended between don't move an inch, but the netted fabric Steve lays on curls tight with every slow swing.

He can smell hyacinth where it grows at the perimeter of the bluegrass, and the fragrant cocoa of his hot chocolate steaming on the paving stones beneath him. There are a hundred beautiful things to savour out here in the evenings, but Steve can think about nothing but you. Your eyes, the timid sweet smile you give him when he's touching you. Your voice, and how you speak to him when you're alone. 

Steve knows he's likely the only person fortunate enough in his entire kingdom to meet his soulmate when he desired it. Which isn't to say he didn't hold out hope when he was young, thinking one day he'd meet them, a diplomat's daughter or the child of a visiting King. He knows it was stupid to assume his soulmate would be another royal, but when you're a kid you believe what you're told. 

"Well, of course she'll be educated," his mother would say, sitting two feet away at the dining table, an oyster spoon in hand. "Slight, well-mannered, quiet. You'll be king, so she'll need to be strong. She'll need to know how to take a beating." 

Steve remembers thinking, Why? It's not as if I'll hit her. 

It's still true, but he can guess what she meant: To be thrust into the spotlight and with little choice in the manner, you have to have a strong disposition. Steve can't not be a Prince. His soulmate can't not want to marry him. She'll need to buckle up. 

He doesn't technically agree with his mother's thoughts back then, but he understands them. Steve believes you have much more choice in the manner, and he's dedicated to giving you that choice even if the wedding is being forced on you both. He wants to make this something you want too. 

Sighing, Steve rakes a hand through his hair. He needs time to himself, without Robin or Munson and especially without his mother's lady's maids. Steve finds his days stolen and his time delegated, richocheting between government, education, fencing, fittings, toning, training. He can keep up. He doesn't mind. But without an hour alone every now and then, he'll explode. 

He stretches out as much as the hammock allows with a frankly hideous groan. His neck and shoulders pop. What he really needs is an hour with the masseuse, Claire. Before Steve met you, he thought she was his soulmate. She has nice hands. 

He hears you before he sees you, your footsteps on the pathway. He immediately sits up from the hammock with mild grace, standing in the grass with no idea where to put his hands. 

He clasps them behind his back as you come into view. 

"Hi, Steve," you say hesitantly. 

He can't help it —he sees you and a smile splits his face. Trying not to come on too strong is out the window. 

"Hi," he says. You've stopped a couple of feet away. The light of your soul mark is muted to near invisibility, tinged somewhere between pink and purple. It looks ethereal against your skin. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine. Uh, Robin said you'd be here. That they'd let me through." 

"Only you," he says. He told them quite concisely that you're the single person permitted to interrupt his time alone. 

"I can come back later." 

"No, tell me what's wrong." 

"It's… Why do you assume something's wrong?" 

"Because you've willingly sought me out?" he asks with a well-meaning laugh. 

It's the wrong thing to say. You shift from foot to foot, rubbing your palms together sheepishly. "I guess it was stupid. I'm sorry, you can, uh, you can go back to what you were doing. Sorry, Steve." 

"Wait a second!" he says, though he drops his volume when you flinch. "Wait, no, don't– Don't leave, I didn't mean that you can't come and find me unless there's something wrong. I want to talk to you. Really badly. That's why I told them to let you in." 

"About what?" 

"About everything," he says. 

You and Steve sit on one of the steps leading down to the fish pond. It's a beautiful feature with mirror clean waters and water lilies, their petals a quiet pink melding into sunshine orange. He points at it, his head inclined to yours. 

"Nymphaea aurora," he murmurs. The water ripples, a darkening purple reflection of the sky as the sun sets. "They're bred for the colour specifically." 

"Do you like those ones?" you ask him. 

"I like all of them." He doesn't know how to explain how he feels, the dawning hope of being close to you, the magnetic tethering. "We could get different stuff if you wanted. It'll be your garden too, soon," he says, watching fondly as you draw your legs a touch closer and bend at the waist, hugging your thighs. "Are you tired?" 

"Kind of, but I know you're busy tomorrow." You want to talk to him as much as he wants to talk to you. He tries hard not to feel smug. 

"I'm really sorry. We shouldn't be separated right now, we should be spending the week together." It's a common phenomena. People meet their soulmates and disappear for days on end together, appearing later to beg forgiveness, cheeks aglow with joy. He wanted that with you. He wants whatever he can get.

Steve drops his voice to a whisper, bending at the waist to meet you eye to eye, "Do you want to run away with me tomorrow?" 

You don't flinch, wince, or smile. Tentative, you whisper back, "You couldn't run away." 

"Just for the day. We'll wear fake eyeglasses and sunhats and slip out in the morning when they change the guards. I've done it before." 

"You have?" 

"So many times. What do you think of that?" 

"What would we do all day?" you whisper. 

"Anything we want. Sneak into the opera house, eat dinner in the square from the food carts. We can finally get to know one another. Just you and me," he says softly.

Your tired smile tugs at the corners. 

"Okay. Yeah, I want to go." 

He reaches across the gap to stroke your cheek, a brisk, wanting line from the highest point to the skin shy of your jaw. In the evening dark, your face awash with the milky light of the appearing moon, you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. 

You laugh softly and turn your face away, shaking your head before sitting up altogether. 

Steve sits up. "Then we'll go. But we should head to bed now, I'll have to wake you up in a few hours. They've started to expect my escape in the morning." 

Steve walks you back to your room. He wants to kiss you goodnight, and there's a pause where he thinks about it before telling you goodnight. When your door closes behind you, he has to stop himself from knocking and asking if you want to leave now. 

He's eager to get to know you, but you both have time. 

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

[ilyhaitanii]

the verdant strider ft. tighnari

nsfw. 5.k words, pwp (guys we did it!! i learned how to make a real plot!!) gentle sex, both of them are painfully in love with the other, tighnari is a bit insecure, aphrodisiac (?), he calls you by his title, mention of overstim towards the end, might be ooc im sorry…oh! he whimpers <3

men of the harem mlist !!

The heavy sounds of metal clanking against the wooden trails caught tighnari’s attention. The noise was a good distance away– “two miles,” the forest ranger estimated. However, he heard the light, airy footsteps of someone else amongst the others. Soft steps that made the wood creak against your feet and soft giggling noises you made as you traveled with a few of your guards. Tighnari set down his magnifying glass, closing up his textbook and maps before exiting his hut. 

He felt the humid air against his skin, making the fur of his tail and ears feel sticky. Luckily for him, it wasn’t too hot. Along the wooden bridges of Gandharva Ville, Tighnari watched as you came into view. Many other forest rangers bowed at your presence, greeting you with utter respect. You nervously requested they raised their heads as you are not worthy of receiving such etiquette. Had Tighnari been any closer, he may have rebutted that comment. He continues to observe the way you speak with the rangers, having baskets of fruit handed to them. 

Their eyes glowed, widening lids as you placed them into their hands. Tighnari feels his ear twitch. Why is he feeling like this? He blanks out for a few moments before Collei grabs his attention,

“Master, her highness is here to see you. The others say she’s brought fruit for us,” The young girl stands beside him, watching as her master’s face changes. He goes from pensive to calm. You’re here for Tighnari, he slowly realizes. Soon he thinks, “Why does that matter? You may come and go around Sumeru as you please. It is your nation,” He feels his face flush and Collei notices. Her anxiety peaks as he stares him,

“Master, are you alright?” There’s a small waiver in her voice that makes Tighnari come back to reality. He pats her on the head, smiling.

“Don’t worry, Collei. It’s nothing. Let’s go greet her, shall we?” With a small smile, Collie nods, following Tighnari in suit. He smoothly walks in your direction as you busy yourself with the other rangers. There’s that stupid feeling again. Tighnari feels irritated, especially when he gets a better look at you. Archons, you look gorgeous today. You look good every day, but the tropical humidity of the Avidya Forest gives you this natural glow. He can smell the sheer sweat lines on your skin, yet it doesn’t bother him. 

When you finally notice his presence, you smile brightly at him. The other rangers greet Tighnari with cheerfulness, some eyes still glued to you. You hold a basket of goodies in your hands as you turn to Collei and Tighnari,

“Tighnari and Ms. Collei! It’s so great to see you both.” The two smile back at you, one more shyly than the other. You bend down to Collei’s height, handing her the basket of fruits. “I heard from the General Mahamatra that you fancy lotus, right? I hand picked a few from the ponds near the castle. I do hope you’ll enjoy them! There’s other fruits in there as well and some mushrooms,” 

Collei’s eyes light up in excitement, hearing your words. She’s come around a lot when it comes to you. She used to hide behind Tighnari or Cyno before, but now you can openly converse with her. 

“I haven’t had any in so long. Thank you, your highness. You really didn’t have to,” She stammered a bit in her words, shyly gracious for the gift. It has been a while since she’s had it. Tighnari doesn’t allow her to scavenge or leave the village at night as she is so young. Tighnari would often tell you in his letters about him scavenging for lunar lotus to bring home for Collei in her younger years. When you tease Tighnari for being such a sweet teacher, his only response was, 

“If she is happy, she’ll do good at school. That’s what I care about,” But the swaying of his tail and soft flush on his cheeks say otherwise. A few of the other rangers and Collei get distracted with the various foods you have brought. With that, your full attention is on Tighnari. You smile at him again,

“How goes the research into the ley lines? I know they’re not your specialty, so I thought the books could give you a deeper understanding of them. Do they help?” Lately, a certain type of ley line has been polluting the ecosystem in a part of the forest. It’s caused some tigers and boars to travel closer to Gandharva Ville, rather than staying in the lush greens of the forest. Tighnari nods his head as you link arms with him. Your bare skin brushes against his, sending a shiver up his spine. 

“It’s helped me understand what exactly they are, but not how it’s affecting the ecosystem. I still don’t quite get it. I may have to do some more testing. It is possible the ley line is not the cause of the decline. It could be linked to something else,” As the two of you walk down the trails, your conversation continues. 

“According to Cyno’s intel, there’s been some people selling certain plants taken from Avidiya Forest on the black market. I’m telling you this as it is not an Akademiya problem, so I don’t believe anyone from there will feel obliged to try and help.” You say pensive, furrowing your brows. 

“I have noticed a decrease in Rukkhashava Mushrooms,” Tighnari mentions. Tighnari’s heart skips a beat when you sigh, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. “It’s nothing too significant.” You bite your lip, deep in thought. “A coin for your thoughts, my lady?” 

“Why would people be selling Rukkhashava Mushrooms on black market though? It’s a widely accessible plant, so why go through the trouble of taking them from the forest and not from the merchants who sell it for cheap? I’ve seen the prices, Tighnari.” There’s a slight frustration in your voice that makes Tighnari frown. Suddenly, it clicks. 

“Poisonous fumes,” You raise a brow at his words, halting in your steps. 

“Elaborate, please?” Tighnari clears his throat before speaking, 

“When gathering Rukkhashava Mushrooms, one must properly pick them. You cannot pick them from the roots, you have to gather their petals and use a sharp object to dismember it from the core, otherwise it will let out a poisonous gas. This is how the fungi protects itself. However, these fumes can harm the soil and pores of other vegetation. I don’t know how I didn’t think of this before!” 

You carefully listen to Tighnari’s explanation, nodding as he speaks. The reason why the plants are dying makes sense, but again, why take the fungi from the forest as opposed to the merchants selling it? It’s a lot more accessible to buy it, rather than stealthy trying to uproot them from under the rangers’ noses. You are stumped on this question, however you do not verbalize it to Tighnari. 

“Along with the fumes, these plants are not getting vital nutrients from the mushrooms either.” He’s more or less speaking to himself at this point. 

“That does make sense,” You curtly add. The two of you continue to walk down the trails as your mind is clouded with questions. A guard who has been trailing behind the two of you calls out to you. You let go of Tighnari’s arm, turning behind you. You pace towards the guard as he leans down, whispering something in your ear. However, Tighnari hears the entire conversation. 

“A message has come from the General Mahamatra. He believes he has captured one of the culprits behind the mushroom thefts. Would you like to go see him?” You nod to the guard, looking back at Tighnari. He waves his hand, a smile on his face.

“Go. I will be here if anything. Contact me if you have any questions,” You apologeticly smile to him, waving goodbye before running off with your guards. Tighnari’s arms tingles, still feeling your warm touch on him.  

Tighnari has not heard from you in days. Last night, while visiting Kaveh, he had not seen you at all around the castle. According to Kaveh, you’ve thrown yourself into work. Not even Cyno could pull you out of the room. There’s talk amongst the bazaar that her highness has fallen ill. Worryingly, Tighnari finds himself at the palace entrance. He enters the main hall, where you are absent from. After asking around, Tighnari finds out that you are still in your bedroom. 

After a firm knock on the door, Tighnari hears scuffling around your room. With a strained voice you answer, 

“Who is it?” Tighnari’s nose picks up on a sickly sweet smell that makes his mouth run dry. How have you come across such a thing? 

“Tighnari. May I come in?” He already knows what to expect if you allow him in. He hears some more scuffling of your feet because you allow him to enter. He sees you sitting at your desk with the windows wide open. The soft summer breeze does not help to cool the flush and sweat on your skin. 

“Lock it,” you say weakly to him and he does just that. He searches around the room for where that smell is coming from. However, the closer he steps towards you the stronger it gets. That smell is coming from your mouth. 

“My lady, have you eaten anything today?” He gently shifts closer to you. His hand grazes against your bare shoulder and you shudder. Hypersensitivity, sweating, fatigue, dizziness– you have all the symptoms. 

“No. I feel too gross. I came back from the forest and I- oh fuck,” You press your legs together as you try to hold your stomach. There’s a pulsing heat that is causing you immense discomfort. 

“And you what,” Tighnari’s cold fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. You slump against the chair, twitching in your seat. “How long were you going to stay like this? You do understand this sort of poisoning could kill you, right?” You weakly groan, melting into his cool palm. 

“I’ve read in a book that it will pass in five days. It’s the last day today,” You stifle another groan as you jolt up. Today has been the worst by far. You get strong waves of this prickling sensation in your stomach that heats up your entire body. Ice baths, cold water, even resting has not helped in the slightest. You’re constantly sweating and the humid air from outside does not help anymore than it worsens your temperature. Tighnari’s hand presses against your forehead.

“Yes, that is if given a proper diet and fluids. At this rate, you could have a stroke,” He tuts, scolding you. You can’t fight back, simply allowing him to stand between your legs. You call out his name, weakly tugging on his pants to gain his attention. “I’m right here. I told you to contact me if anything, no?” 

Again, you let out a weak noise, hiding your face in his torso. His hands feel so cold on your shoulders and face. 

“Sorry, I didn’t think the poison would affect me this bad” Tighnari’s fingers trail from your collarbone, down to your chest. He kneels in front of you, rubbing his fingertips along your skin. He watches the way you flinch and shiver at his touch. “Nari,” You say breathless. 

“The fumes got to you, didn’t they?” He chuckles airly, watching how you react to his hands. His palms rub your shoulders, trailing down your arms. You nod your head, letting out a soft cry. “Next time, call me. I will bring an antidote. For now though, relax.” With that, Tighnari hoists you into his arms, laying you down on the bed. The bed sheets feel cool on your skin. You weakly protest, but Tighnari shushes you with a kiss. You softly sigh into it, hands attempting to reach out to him. He chuckles, laying himself beside you. His skin feels like ice against your sweaty skin. You press your cheek into his neck, legs trying to feel his, but his pants completely cover his legs.

Instead, his hand rubs up and down your thigh as he tries to soothe you. It all feels very intimate, to say the least. Up until this point, your and Tighnari’s relationship was not the same as the others. The two of you mutually benefited from this arrangement. Tighnari gained access to information he needed, and you were able to have a spot filled in the harem. It was either him or the son of some random duke you heavily disliked. Plus, Tighnari was always kind and respectful. Sure, he was pretty introverted and did not add to the conversation much, but he never made you feel like you were a bother to him. He always made you feel like you could speak your mind freely.

For publicity sake, the two of you had shared kisses before, held hands, etc. Yet this felt so…different. There was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart flip. Tighnari was secretly happy that you had stayed inside your room for days. He was the only one who got to see you like this, and the only one who gets to nurse you back to health. His tail snakes around your waist, almost posessively.   

The two of you stare at each other, lips parted. He moves the hair away from your face, his thumb swiping some of the sweat away. He smiles gently, kissing you on the forehead Tighnari’s hand slides into yours, pressing hid cold palm against yours. Your cheek rests against his shoulders as his body cools yours. With a gentle sweet kiss on the head, Tighnari urges you to rest a bit. You do relax into him, feeling a bit better. Maybe this was all you needed– Tighnari’s healing hands. 

The sun eventually sets and when you wake up again, your windows are closed and your body feels a lot better. There’s no sweat sticking to your clothes, no shivering, no dizziness, nothing. You felt completely fine. However, that throb between your legs never left. You glance to your left to find Tighnari’s eyes shut. His soft breath felt against your hair. He looks so peaceful and so cute. Instinctively, you reach out to poke the softness of his cheek. This however, wakes him up. Quickly, you retract your hand, but Tighnari is quicker. He grabs your hand, pressing it back to his cheek. You stifle a giggle, but ultimately fail. He leaves a kiss on the inside of your wrist, hazel eyes glimmering at you. 

“You look better,” he says, kissing your pulse point one more time. You grin at him, stomach fluttering with butterflies. You nod dumbly, eyes focused on his lips. He chuckles, allowing you to see a flash of his pearly whites. “Up here, my lady.” Tighnari says with a teasing grin. “Seems you really don’t feel well if your eyes cannot focus, hm?” 

And the way his voice drops an octave has you pressing your legs together. You play along with his antics, nodding your head. Tighnari straddles your hips, his fingers cupping your jaw. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours.

“Tell me you want this. If not, I promise I’ll never try it again unless you allow me to,” His hands slide under the thin nightgown, toying with the ribbons of your shorts. Unable to speak, you simply nod. “I need to hear it,” He breathes heavily against your lips.

“Tighnari, I want this. I want you so bad. Please?” The whiny begging breaks Tighnari’s resolve. Instantly, his lips crash onto yours. He keeps your body flushed to his, turning so you are seated in his lap. It feels so surreal. And Tighnari? He was over the fucking moon. 

He had waited years for this moment. He heard all the things you would do with the other consorts, but never with him. In his mind he simply thought you saw him as a friend. However, he is so wrong. Day after day, you would sit at your desk wondering what the forest ranger was up to.

The amount of times you’d hike deep into the Avidiya forest just to catch a glimpse of Tighnari was embarrassing. Your crush on him since your Akademiya days still resonated deep inside your heart. When he had graduated early, you wished you could’ve done something to make him stay. However, he was determined. You secretly wished him nothing but the best. You wanted nothing but that for him. 

Tighnari’s hands slid your nightgown up your torso, leaving goosebumps in his trail. Soft moans fall into his mouth. He continues to kiss you. You clutch onto him, begging for air and he reluctantly pulls back. A string of saliva connects your mouths. At this moment, Tighnari falls in love all over again. 

The way your cheeks are flushed because of his touches, the wya your hair perfectly. You hide your face from him, but he quickly moves your hands away from your face. You let out a small whine and Tighnari compensates you by leaving kisses along the slope of your neck. His kisses have you whimpering and gasping. He nips at the skin, leaving hickeys in his trail. 

Things move quickly from here. Tighnari strips you of your clothes, kissing every part of your exposed skin. He parts your thighs with his hands, his mouth watering at the thought of you. Your panties are soaked simply from kissing. His cock cubs up, twitching in its constraints. He ignores his own needs for now. He has all night to enjoy your body, fill you to the brim and make you his forever. 

Tighnari uses his thumbs to spread your lips apart, watching the way your clit perks up, swollen and begging to be touched. He coos at the sight of you, watching the way you squirm under his gaze. He wants to tattoo this sight of you into his mind forever. His ears twitch with excitement as his tongue darts out to lick up your slit. He licks up the slick leaking out of your hole. He looks up at you, his hand sliding into yours. 

“Look at me,” He says in a low voice, kissing your inner thighs. He continues to stare at your expression before you shyly flutter them open. “There you go. Keep your eyes on me, okay?” His voice is stern, yet so soft at the same time. You dumbly nod, caught in a trance that is Tighnari’s eyes. You see a glimmer of mischief in his eyes as his pink tongue darts out again. This time, Tighnari swirls his tongue around your clit, pressing into the sensitive bud. Immediately, your eyes flutter shut. Wanton moans fall from your parted lips, so Tighnari instantly pulls away. He squeezes your hand, chuckling.

“Open your eyes.” You do just that, falling back into the trance of his voice. “Mm, good girl.” He kisses your lips. You taste yourself on his tongue which spreads goosebumps across your skin. your back arches into him when Tighnari’s nail scratches down your spine. 

“Nari, hah. Please?” You feel Tighnari’s fingers dip back into your heat, fingers sinking into your cunt and they curl just right against that spot. You mewl into his shoulder, clawing at his wrist. It feels so good that your body can’t handle it. Your hips buck into his palm, the rough skin against your clit has your eyes rolling back. 

“What are you begging for, your highness? Tell me, what do you want?” His lips trail the shell of your ears, chuckling into them. Your lips part in a needy whine, your head feeling dizzy. You shake your head, unable to say anything. “Oh? You want me to stop?” 

You quickly hold onto his wrist, rutting your hips against his palm. He laughs again, capturing your lips into a quick kiss. 

“I’m only teasing, my lady. Relax,” He lays you down against your plush pillows, having your thighs lay around his hips so your hips are slightly elevated. You bury your face into the pillows, clawing at the soft fabrics. You felt your stomach churning with pleasure, a tight knot forming. 

Tighnari finds himself leaning down, lips attached to your neck. He nips at the skin again, this time leaving darker marks. Your hands card through his hair, grazing the base of his ears. That stirred something inside him. A whimper-like gasp comes out of the forest rangers,

“My lady,” he says, breathless, before grabbing your hand away from his ears. There’s a bright flush on his cheeks as he tries to catch his breath. You smile at him, giggling. 

“Tighnari,” you coo, hands going back to tease his ears. “I’ve never met someone with such sensitive ears,” He huffs against your neck, flustered from your actions. He quickly has his thumb press against your clit, making you jolt. He presses down on the bud, swirling it around. Your eyes roll back and your chest is flush against Tighnari’s. When did his clothes come off?

It’s a miracle you don’t instantly cum when his tongue peaks out to lick a stripe on the side of your neck. You shiver, moaning into the pillow beside you. Tighnari, the ever diligent man, lets you cum all over his palm. He curls his fingers as you gush around them, allowing you to ride out your high. Tighnari’s entire demeanor changes when he sees your cum oozing out of your hole. 

He unbuckles his pants, pulling out his twitching cock. Tighnari looks down at your flushed face, sweat lining your forehead. He takes a few moments to enjoy your features while your eyes are shut. He chuckles, kissing your lips once more. The kiss is so sweet, so loving you might cry. Years of love and adoration spilled into your mouth as Tighnari’s tongue slipped into your mouth. You cling onto the strider, pressing your hips into his. 

The both of you gasp together as Tighnari slides into you. The tip was the thickest part, the most difficult. He pushes himself into you, keeping his lips locked onto your. Saliva drips from the corner of your mouths and the two of you are panting into each other. Tighnari groans, trying to hold himself back from rutting into you. You tug at his hair the deeper you sink onto his cock, a tear slipping down your cheek. Tighnari keeps his hands secure on your hips, his thumbs rubbing your waist. 

His fingers press into your skin, feeling the softness of it under his fingertips. You moan his name, your voice trembling. Your knees hurt from having to keep yourself from falling straight onto his dick. Tighnari pulls away from you, a thick line of saliva connecting your tongues. He looks at your panting face as his thumb brushes your lower lips. Without thinking, you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking on the finger. His breath hitches. 

How long has Tighnari been longing for this? How many times has he prayed you would finally stop peaking around the corner and actually walk up to him and say hello. How many times has his fingers twitched begging to reach out to you? How many times has he wished he did something instead of watch his other two friends sweep you off of your feet while he and Cyno stand at the sidelines. 

As Tighnari fully sinks you onto his cock, allowing you the freedom of pressing your weight onto him, he thinks to himself, “Why did he wait so long?” He unconsciously gulps. “Alhaitham was able to do it, why wasn’t he? Why did Tighnari not think he had the honor of being the apple of your eye?” He’s not an insecure man in the slightest. He’s confident in his abilities, knows his strengths and weaknesses, knows his limits. Yet, how did he not find the courage in himself to reach out to you, say hello, sweep you off your feet just like Kaveh did? 

You call out to Tighnari, wiping the tears that fall onto his cheeks. He looks up at you, his lips tugged into a frown. You furrow your brows, matching his expression. You kiss him softly once more, before asking,

“What happened?” Your voice is so anxious, so full of love, Tighnari wants to suffocate himself in it. His lips part to speak, but his voice gets lost in his throat. “Do you want to stop?” You ask so softly, he almost doesn’t hear it. 

“No,” He says sternly, almost too loud. He refocuses his eyes on yours. He sees the glimmer of the candlelight in your eyes. Archons, have you always been this beautiful? He’s not a religious man, but he would pray to the Archons daily if it meant he got to see you like this everyday. His fingers move your hair away from your face. “I love you,” His voice is so soft, tender. A stray tear falls from your eyes. Tighnari’s heart explodes. “Do you…” 

“I love you too,” You cut him off. His eyes widen and his tail is swaying side to side. It’s adorable almost. He sighs into your collarbone, repositioning his hips. He brushes against your most sensitive spot. It has moans spilling out of your mouth. You lay pliant below Tighnari as he presses your knees to your chest. He’s so deep inside of you, you think you might die. However, the gentle rocking of his hips makes you think you might die in heaven’s reincarnation.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Tighnari repeats these words over and over as if he’s trying to make sure you bleed that noise in your brain. His voice becomes more strained, borderline whiny. Your fingers reach up to his ears and this time he whimpers at your touch. “I love you. I lo- oh fuck, love you…” 

With that, Tighnari spills his love into you, hips stuttering against yours. Your brain feels hazy. Despite your sensitivity, Tighnari keeps rutting his hips against your cunt, tears clouding his own vision. 

“Feels so good. Archons, your highness!” He clings onto you, pulling you into his lap, bouncing you on his cock. You don’t recall how long he goes on for, but you zone back in when he presses your shoulders to his chest, his tip easily sinking into your stretched out hole. He uses your combined liquids as lube, allowing himself to sink back into you. You faintly hear the birds chirp and wonder how long Tighnari truly could go on for.

However, that thought quickly subsides as you silently thank those bastard treasure hunters for pushing you straight into those poisonous fumes. If not for them, maybe the two of you wouldn’t have ever been pushed to confess. Tighnari lips graze against you shoulder and you tip your head back to kiss him. Those four days of discomfort were worth it, thank the Dendro Archon for allowing you to have this.

© ilyhaitanii - please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my content, and do not repost it to any other platforms

#// men of the harem au #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x y/n #tighnari smut #tighnari fluff #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin smut #tighnari genshin impact #genshin tighnari #tighnari genshin

[yellow-berrys]

dote on me | sirius black x fem!reader

summary: you are completely oblivious to the way sirius black dotes on you, and think that the way you're infatuated with him is completely one-sided. but he begs to differ.

warnings: mentions of a bad childhood, mentions of smoking, drinking and illicit substances

navigation | masterlist 

Sirius Black makes you nervous and he darn well knows that. He uses those consuming grey eyes of his, filled with enigmatic interest, to his advantage. He only needs to focus them on you for a considerate amount of time for you to start burning up like a wildfire. And his nose, it’s pointed and perfect, leaving you wondering just how unfair life can be. His cheekbones are high and structured, light hitting them at glorious angles. His lips are devoid of much red. They’re this cool plum colour that looks like it’s lip gloss all the time but really isn’t. His skin is framed by smooth black hair, and the layers in his haircut are so pretty it prompted every other guy in his life to get the same one. It drives you mad that he was born with this face and that hair. It’s simply unjustified. 

It would be fine if he was just a pretty face. But it’s not. It’s simply unacceptable just how nice he is. Sometimes you wish he isn’t a gentleman and that all the rumours about him being a player with a million tattoos were true, because you’re envious and adoring of him. 

And like anyone, he definitely has a vice. People think it’s cigarettes for him but he definitely does not smoke. And he doesn’t drink. At parties, he’s cradling a cautiously poured glass of lemonade instead. And he definitely doesn’t do drugs, because he hangs around Remus Lupin and there’s no way he would be allowed to if he did. Remus is a little sickly sometimes, and his body is very sensitive. 

He likes to say his vice is chasing things he’ll never have. Like his childhood. He thinks he has regained that. Now, maybe it’s some sort of romance. All his life he’s been mooned over. People love him, mostly because he’s beautiful, and they offer him burning hot love all the time. People think he’s one for angsty, fiery passion. But Sirius thinks that fires never last, they’re too easy to disturb and taint everything with the unpleasant smell of smoke. James once did one of his stupid Women’s Weekly quizzes on him, the one with the “Tell me your favourite colour, and it’ll tell you what other people think of you, tell me your favourite animal…” questions. Sirius had laughed, thrown his head back and answered in a complete stupor. “Black, maroon if black isn’t an answer, dog…” James had asked him what his favourite body of water was and Sirius had said “A lake.”

He had spent summers of his broken youth dipping his toes into the pretty lake by his family’s home in France, escaping from the whirlwind world inside the walls of Walburga and Orion’s chateau. It didn’t make him cry more when he cried, because it would welcome the tears into the gently flowing water. 

James had smiled, “Why?”

Sirius had told him, “It’s gentle, relaxing, peaceful. The one in France was so enveloping and soft. I felt safe there.”

“Chateau?”

“Yep. I used to go out there as a little boy. It was so quiet out there and it felt like heaven, so fluid and open.”

“Hm,” James had studied the words underneath, squinting his eyes, “Ooh, that’s how you feel about love. Never knew you were the romantic type, Pads.”

He had laughed. 

James had asked you too. You had giggled, “Did you steal Lily’s Women’s Weekly again?”

He grumbled, “Not again.”

“I like ponds with little koi fish swimming in them.”

“Why?”

“It’s calm in a joyful way. It’s safe and there’s always rays of golden sun and it feels so delightful and promising. Lucky too, I guess. Oh! And it’s so pretty by a koi fish pond.”

James had grinned and left promptly. 

Sirius thought it was strange when he had first met you. He hadn’t ever had these feelings before, and it took years for him to shove them aside and focus on his studies, friends and mischief-making. But you were affiliated with Marlene, you were always around in some way. You and him became friends and Sirius felt those feelings resurface again. 

He groans into his hands as he runs it across his face. 

“Why?!” he asks Lily, who is watching amusedly. 

“I’m sure you can’t help it,” she says primly, “But what if you could help it?”

He looks at her inquisitively. 

“What if you acted on these feelings? It isn’t half-bad of an idea. You’re grown up, Sirius, and if you still like her that means it’s real.”

“She doesn’t like me.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“What if bad things happen?”

“What’s the worst that could?”

“Death.”

“You’re already halfway there,” she rolls her eyes, “Give it a shot, maybe love will make you less sad.”

“I’m not sad!”

“Whatever, start loving, Sirius.”

She picks up her Women’s Weekly magazine and starts reading. “Ooh, there’s this quiz-”

Sirius groans. 

–

“Hey darling,” Sirius strides into your apartment. Good start, he thinks. 

You’re sprawled on the couch, grinning as you FaceTime Marlene and Dorcas. When you see him, you look up, surprised. 

“Marlene’s in Vegas,” you say, “Didn’t she tell you?”

Marlene did tell Sirius, and even offered that he come with her and Dorcas.

You flip the camera to Sirius, and even in blurry, low quality, Facetime video he’s still very handsome. 

Marlene screams, “What is that monster doing in my apartment?”

You grin, “Marls, he was looking for you.”

“Actually,” Sirius tilts his head, and if you weren’t so thick you might see the smitten look in his eyes, “I’m here for you.” 

You frown, “For taxes? It’s only the start of the month. Besides, the IRS will never tail you, you’re too rich for that.”

“Can’t I spend time with you, pretty girl?”

It’s flattering, but it seems too abrupt to be genuine. You brush it off with a laugh.

“Get a load of you,” you roll your eyes, “What do you need?”

“I need you,” he attempts and the confession, although seeming flirtatious and joking, brings a smile to your face. 

Marlene chortles, “Guys- I-I-I-I’m…cutt-ing…ou-ou-ou-t.” She fakes it and it’s obvious, but the FaceTime ends and Sirius sits opposite you now. He’s pretty even at seven in the evening and it makes you very nervous. 

You stand up, uneased, and make towards your bedroom. 

“Where are you going?”

“Oh,” you gesture to an old pile of clothes, “Marlene cleaned her wardrobe out before she left, so I decided to follow suit so then we can donate them.”

“Why’re you leaving me?” he pouts. 

“You want to…stay?” 

You’re so puzzled and your heart is beating far too fast for your liking. It goes pitter patter like the rain outside. It’s exhausting. The feeling might be addictive, like a good old fashioned crush, but it’s always playing with you. It feels avaricious to love someone out of your league, worth more than you have ever been.

His sudden showering of affections and doting on you, you think, is because he’s lonely. He doesn’t live with James anymore. You empathise with him, but only because you think you’ll know what that feels like in a month when Dorcas and Marlene move in together. But it really isn’t. Sirius actually thinks that you deserve all the heavy-handed loving in the world, and he always has. His apprehension towards him being the person to do the loving is slowly fading away as he sees the shy smile on your face. 

“If you’ll have me.”

And you turn your head around so he doesn’t see you blush, “Okay, I’ve been meaning to get a second opinion. Whenever I do this I do it with Marlene.” 

You try things on by the mirror in your bedroom, instructing Sirius to look away when needed. He isn’t much of a help at all, because he thinks you look good in everything. Which is just certainly not true. 

On a whim, he suggests that because he isn’t aiding you successfully, you should help him on his own closet. In the end, you wind up in his apartment. 

Sirius has never boasted about what he has at all, mainly because he isn’t proud of it. By what unethical means his trust fund has come from, he doesn’t even want to know, but he’s grateful for it. You’ve only ever seen his living room, kitchen and his small powder room, and they’re lavish and capacious to no ends. Everything subtly screams wealth and luxury. His bedroom is no different. A large bed sits in the middle, framed by expensive paintings. There’s a well made ebony table in the corner, spotless and tidy. The two armchairs in the room are, whilst clearly faux-leather, intricate and of the sort of taste cultivated only by time. A copy of the original Call of the Wild sits on a table. A bookshelf is on one side of the room, grey, stretching from the floor to ceiling. You run your fingers along the spines of the book. They’re all special editions. A simple chandelier (what an oxymoron) dangles in the middle of the room, and you find the ceiling is gilded with plaster and gold. Pictures of friends and family adorn the white walls. 

His walk in closet is humongous. You gasp as he opens the door. It’s double the size of your living room. The clothes are organised by colour, style and season and there’s a considerable lack of colour. In the middle sits an accessory table, with dozens of gold watches and silver necklaces. Delicate rings and bracelets all are displayed. A glass cabinet with bottles of cologne and perfume stands next to it. The only ones you can recognise is something that resembles the Ralph Lauren logo and Dior, and then again it isn’t even the one Johnny Depp uses.

He smiles sheepishly, ashamed that he has such nice things, “I did use my own money on this. Euphemia helped me fix it up.”

“It’s beautiful, Sirius,” you’re almost afraid to touch anything. You don’t think you belong in such a gorgeous world. You don’t think you deserve it. 

Sirius beams at you, “Guess there’s not a difference between it and you, then.”

Your face warms. Sirius is already taking clothes off the racks, whilst you stand awkwardly. He’s chatting, talking about where the clothes came from and who gave them to him and why he likes it so much. Your shoulders relax and you look at him like he’s the only thing that matters. So far he’s through all the things he deems necessary for him to live. 

“And this jumper,” he holds up a pristine Ecru crewneck, offering it to you, “Is from when I went to visit Machu Picchu with James. When we left, one of the ladies we had been staying with gave us both a handmade jumper.”

You hold the fabric delicately in your hands. 

“It’s alright. It’s just clothes, darling, you can do whatever you like with them.”

He’s so nice it hurts and you grin at him endearingly, “Thanks, Sirius.”

An adoring smile finds its way onto his face as he turns to pick up the next item. You put the sweater in the “KEEP” pile. 

“How did this get here?” he laughs as he pulls out a bright yellow crewneck, with a little emblem etched on the side. Immediately he tugs it on, grinning as he surveys the bright colour in the mirror. 

You’re blushing away because the colour suits him so well and makes him look way softer than he usually does.

He sneaks a glance at you in the mirror, and when he sees your lack of eye contact with him he frowns. 

“Are you okay?” he asks you. 

“Yeah. Yellow looks really nice on you, Sirius.”

“Does it?”

“Mhm. I don’t know, it makes you look…cuddly?”

He doesn’t smirk like you expect him to, but swivels around and smiles at you again. He knows he looks like he loves you. He doesn’t mind. You’re just sitting there, confused at why he’s doing this. It’s weird and sudden and it’s definitely something he would do. 

Maybe this is his new favourite jumper. 

He throws it in the keep pile. You tut disapprovingly and rearrange it gently. Seeing a t-shirt, he takes his own shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. You cover your eyes, not wanting to intrude on his privacy. 

Sirius is midway through putting the shirt on when he laughs. “It’s okay, princess, I didn’t ask you to look away. I don’t mind. Unless you do, then I’ll change over there.”

You peek your eyes at him, and Sirius hopes that he’s not imagining your pupils blown slightly. 

And you didn’t think he could get more perfect, but he is. His muscles are toned and defined, and slightly strained as he slides his shirt on. Gosh, he makes you feel inadequate. He can’t know you want him, so you grin as if you’re unaffected. 

“That’s cute,” you nod. 

And the process repeats. Sometimes he takes off his pants too, leaving him to just his boxers that cling onto him in an ungodly way. 

“Are you done?” you ask, eyes covered tightly by your hand. 

“Yeah.”

Sirius is dressed in a suit, the tenth one tonight, “Do we like this one, or the grey one?”

“I like the way this one fits, but I like the grey colour more. But I think the dull dove blue one was the best because it brings out your eyes.”

Sirius makes a mental note to get the grey one altered. He chucks away some old sleeping tees, and a bunch of band hoodies he doesn’t wear anymore. He also gets rid of one of his expensive sweaters with a cable knit and a button up shirt, a bunch of sweatpants and this hideous sweater vest that his Aunt Thelma gifted him for his 17th birthday. 

He thinks maybe you might like to wear some of the things he has in his wardrobe–Euphemia picks them out with him and she represents a small portion of women. He lugs the bag of clothes to his car, and when he’s back, he sees you cross-legged on an armchair, typing on your phone. 

“Sweetheart, what do I owe you?” he asks. 

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, “For what?” 

You put your phone down on the side table. 

“For helping me?”

“Nothing, Sirius, nothing at all. It’s my pleasure, really.”

“Do you want to take some of my clothes? I have more than enough.”

You look inquisitively at him, “You don’t mind?”

“‘Course not.”

You go home that night with two of his fancy jumpers, he insists, and one big button up shirt, and a bunch of other stuff he is adamant you should take too. You call Lily. Her voice comes out muffled on the other end. 

“Hey Lily!

“Mhm, I’m well, how are you?

“He’s not that bad, I’m sure. You do know he took your Women’s Weekly– 

“I’ve already done that quiz. 

“Right, well, I don’t think Sirius is fine, in his own right.

“No! As in the sad happy fine, not the cute handsome fine.

“Well- no- I- I don’t think he’s not fine- I mean - Okay whatever. Is he alright? He keeps on acting weird.

A long pause. 

“You know something, don’t you, Red? 

“It’s kind of strange. I mean, he offered for me to take one of his- I don’t know, the Ermenegildo Ze-

“Yes, that! One of those jumpers. 

“Are you sure? That’s what he is normally? Isn’t he usually bad-boy cool guy? Not dorky weird compliment giver? 

“Alright, fine. 

“Bye, love you!”

You survey the pile of clothes for any trace of a prank. Nothing. You take out one and inspect it suspiciously. Then, your intrusive thoughts get the better of you and you sniff the material carefully. It smells really nice. You chuck them in the wash just in case Sirius has popped one of his silly prank gadgets into the pockets or beneath the collar. 

The next time you see him, Lily has called you to tell you she and James are going to Vegas to join Marlene and Dorcas. They’re celebrating a championship. She invites you, but you decline, not liking the idea of tailing behind the two couples and intruding on the romantic atmosphere. Sirius is all alone, and Lily tells you to ‘please go and check up on him’.

The apartment seems okay. It’s spotless like it always is, smelling of air freshener and Sirius’ cologne. It doesn’t look like Sirius is going through something rough at all. Sirius might not even be home, so you’re about to leave when you hear music coming from a secluded area of the apartment. You sneak into the corridor and the door is ajar. A beautiful black grand piano stands, Sirius sitting at it, playing the finest tune you’ve ever heard. The sounds reverberate gently through the room, and it’s divine. It’s joyful and skips on merrily. His eyes are closed and his lips are turned up. It makes you think that maybe he’s thinking of someone. 

He stirs a little at the noise and you pull back. He gets up from his chair and peeks his head around the door. You’re wearing his jumper over some sweatpants. It’s so pretty on you, falling oversized. 

He laughs, which brings heat to your cheeks, “Do you want to come in?”

“You’ll let me?” you gasp, “But you don’t even let Dorcas come in, and she’s a cello-ist.”

“You’re special,” he winks and you blush. You must look like a motley of colours- florid and pink. But you don’t mind, he makes everyone nervous and you’re not special, which puts you at ease.

You perch on the cushy chair as he plays a lilting song. You hum, approving, “What’s the song called?”

“Love,” he says and you agree. The song plays like what love feels like. 

It’s so soft, and warm. Combined with Sirius’ lavender and honey cologne, it makes you drowsy. He notices your eyes are barely open, and instead of ending the song, continues to play the same melody over a lighter bass. When your breathing becomes steady, he quietly rises from the piano and scoops you up, knowing it can’t be comfortable to sleep in a chair. He carries you to his own room, where he tucks you into his bed. You’re murmuring unintelligible things. He leaves and continues playing, before Lily calls and he knows he should be in bed, because it’s morning in Las Vegas. Thus, he shuts his piano and drapes a soft velvet across it. He falls onto the couch and listening to Lily’s calming method to waking up, he falls asleep. 

In the morning, you’re in a vaguely familiar room. The sheets are silk and the ceiling is fancier than an art gallery’s. You yawn, stretching. The clock next to you detects the motion and flashes a dim white. Of course it’s an analogue clock, reading 5:00 am. You remember shutting your eyes slowly in the piano room, the news had been playing on the TV earlier. So you had fallen asleep at seven. 10 hours, more than enough. You quickly get up and make the bed. After using his fancy skincare products and brushing your teeth with a spare toothbrush you find packaged up, you hear soft snores coming from the living room. Sirius is there, phone by his side. 

You pout at how much of a gentleman he is, retrieving a blanket and carefully placing it on him. Then you prepare a smoothie, with the fourteen-million ingredients he has in his giant fridge, and leave it in there with a note. But Sirius wakes. He’s always been a light sleeper. 

He leans blearily over the couch, “Sweetheart?”

“Good morning!” you chirp. 

“Why do you have to be so gorgeous at five in the morning?” he slurs. You raise your eyebrows. He’s really always very flirty, and you’re used to it not being genuine by now. He sways out of bed and into the bathroom. You hear the running of a faucet, and sit down on a kitchen chair, checking your phone. Lily has blown it up. 

TO: REDHEAD

REDHEAD 7:31 p.m. sooo, how is he??

REDHEAD 7:43 p.m. hellooooo babes????

REDHEAD 8:00 p.m. are u ok ??

REDHEAD 8:05 p.m. ANSWER ANSWER ANSWER

REDHEAD 9:47 p.m. I’m calling sirius

REDHEAD 10:00 p.m. omg YES GO YOU OMG

5:30 a.m. what

5:30 a.m. he was playing the piano lils and i fell asleep 

REDHEAD 5:31 a.m. ok keep telling urself that <3 i mean has he ever let us sit in when we asked???

5:32 a.m. i told u he was acting strange 

You grin as you see some of the videos she has sent you. One is where James and her and celebrating, him beaming like he always does. She looks madly in love with him. You screenshot and send it to your email so you can print it out later. There’s another of Marlene and Dorcas doing the spaghetti thing at a Michelin star restaurant. They look as if they’re having a wonderful time. It makes you realise that you’re craving something like that too, only not in the wild world of Vegas. You already have something like it, but it’s so one-sided and your heart can’t stand it. You wish someone would just, dote on you. And genuinely, because there’s no way Sirius Black means it. 

You express these feelings to Marlene when she’s back, moving boxes and taping things up. 

“I want to love someone, Marls. Who loves me back, so don’t even say Sirius.”

“He doesn’t act like that around everyone else, you know.”

“He does! Besides, what makes me so special, Marlene? He could have anyone.”

She laughs, “Oh goodness have you got a lot to learn.”

–

Marlene and Dorcas invite you to their housewarming party in their house. They say it’s perfect for a family and they want to start one whilst they’re young. It’s quite a large gathering for a housewarming party, and the inside is buzzing with excitement. You’re talking to some of their colleagues- Alice and her boyfriend Frank on the couch. 

“And we’re planning a trip to Ibiza for next month,” she blinks up at him lovingly and he does the same. It makes you subtly raise your phone as if you’re getting a message and type, before quickly flashing a photo of them whilst they’re gazing into each other’s eyes. 

Sirius spots you grinning away, like you want what Alice and Frank have. He sidles in next to you.

“Hey darling,” he smiles and you smile back, “Hi.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Alice asks. 

“Oh of course! I thought you would already know him,” you put down your drink, “Alice, this is Sirius. Sirius, Alice. Frank, Sirius. Sirius, Frank. They’re planning a trip to Ibiza and were voted Best Couple in high school.” 

They’re both intimidated by Sirius, you can tell, but Sirius smiles, “Nice to meet you Alice and Frank. How long have you been together?”

They cheesily smile at each other, “Seven years and going strong,” Alice flashes her wedding ring. 

Marlene calls you over to the kitchen island, where she is mixing drinks up, “Hey darl!” 

“Sup, Marls.”

“Need a drink?”

“Just pink lemonade,” you hold out your cup. A boy comes around the table, smiling at you. Marlene smirks a little. 

“Y/n, this is CJ. He’s a footballer, and a damn good one.”

You grin, outstretching your hand, “Hi CJ, nice to meet you.”

He shakes it heartily, “Likewise.”

“What team do you play for?”

“Oh, just a local one,” he rubs his neck bashfully, “I’m not that good.” 

CJ, whatever it stands for, is handsome, with bright green eyes and curly brown hair. He’s sweet too and has this shy air around him that’s impossibly good natured. He’s Emmeline’s to-be lover.

“Try me.”

“Liverpool,” he says meekly. 

“Oh, you’re the Cruz Johnson! How’s football for a living?”

“It’s great, actually,” he chuckles, dipping his head to whisper secretly into your ear, “Though this beer is actually some recovery drink, so could be better.”

You laugh. 

He grins as he takes a sip and makes a funny face, “So what do you do?”

You tell him and he nods, “Impressive indeed. How’d you meet Marls here?”

“She and I were classmates! I wore her down eventually, she used to hate friendship.”

“Oh tell me about it. I met her at the football club, where she was playing for the ladies’ team. And the first time the coach tried to congratulate her she just rolled her eyes. He was filthy.”

“Oh?” your eyes are sparkling with mischief. 

“When he dislocated his cheekbone a few weeks later, she told him she could ski on them if she tried. Anyway.”

You purse your lips in amusement, “Am I allowed to laugh at that?”

“He looked like this,” Cruz makes a face and you giggle. 

Sirius is watching this all with a very sour look on his face, feeling very jealous. 

Cruz takes another sip of his drink, “So, who are you here with?”

You’re confused, “No one? I mean, unless you count Marlene, but she’s with Dorcas. And my friend Emmeline too.”

At the mention of Emmeline’s name, his eyes light up, “About her…”

“She’s single and she does like green eyes,” you pull him near the wily, tall Emmeline, who blushes shyly as she sees Cruz, “Besides, I think she has a thing for you. Ever since, you know, you crashed into her and spilled your coffee on her favourite shirt,” you joke. 

He blushes, “Gosh, you still remember that? Will you send me the name of the shirt so I can buy her five more? I know I already replaced hers but I still feel so bad.”

“Awh. That��s very nice of you, Cruz. Here,” you hand him your phone, “What’s your number?”

Sirius is watching you, hands tense around his cup. He decides to go up to you. 

“Hey darling,” he says lowly into your ear, making you jump and your cheeks heat up.

“Sirius!” you berate. Cruz is watching with a knowing smile as he hands your phone back. You quickly text him, “Okay, sent it.”

The two guys are sizing each other up. You can sense their hostility.

“Now, boys, be friendly. Cruz, do not worry, Sirius is only friends with Emmeline, and Sirius, don’t worry, Cruz won’t try to pick up Regulus.”

You feel both of them relax. Cruz grins at Sirius, “Nice to finally meet you, man.”

“You too!”

“And don’t worry, I don’t have feelings for her either.”

You’re silently eavesdropping on the conversation whilst texting Emmeline. You sneak a look at Sirius, who has an unnatural pink on his porcelain skin. 

“C’mon green-eyes, aren’t I obvious about it?”

Cruz agrees, “Too much so.”

“Anyway, I’ll let you get to Emmeline, Cruz.”

He stumbles, grins at you and waves at the same time, “Thanks, mate.” 

“No problems.”

You watch as he goes and makes a fool of himself in front of Emmeline, who likes it. You turn to Sirius, eyes still watching them. You’re still painstakingly lonely. Tonight you think you’ve third-wheeled at least three couples, and set up two. Even though Sirius is there, he’s just a constant reminder of what you can’t have. 

Sirius can see it in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much more he needs to do. Lily wants to know though. 

“Soooo, lovely,” she begins and you narrow your eyes at her. 

“I swear I didn’t take your cookie cutters and destroy them whilst trying to make clay sculptures with Emmeline and Cruz,” you put your hands up. Lily raises her brows and you murmur a quiet, “Oh no.” 

“My cookie cutters that you gave me?!” she yells. 

“It’s fine, I’ll get you new ones.”

She sighs, “Right. Anyway, Sirius Black.”

“Sirius Black,” you say slowly.

“Mhm. Are you ever going to tell him you like him?”

“No, I don’t even like him.” 

“You don’t?” Lily feigns surprise.

“Nope.”

“Is he cute?”

“Yeah.” 

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah.”

“Well?”

“He doesn’t like me like that, Lils,” you scold. 

“Why does he call you ‘darling’ then? He has to.”

“If he did, that would be embarrassing for him. Gosh knows he’s too good for me. If he likes me, I would question why because he could probably do better,” you shrug, “I’m confident, but not completely blind.” 

“Okay. So if he liked you, you would want to date him?”

You reply meekly, “Yeah.”

“I think you should tell him, though,” Lily sighs, “Better you than anyone else doing it.”

You ponder for a moment, “True,” you sigh, “He’ll be nice about it.”

Lily squeals, “I’m planning your wedding!!!” 

You knock on his apartment door, reconsidering for the last time whether you want to do it or not. 

Sirius opens the door, looking confused and handsome, eyes bluer than usual. 

“Hi,” you breathe. 

“Gorgeous, to what do I owe this sudden visit?”

“I just wanted to see you.”

“Really?” his eyes are glistening. 

“Yeah.” 

“Come in then. Mind the mess, taxes.”

You hum, “Need help?”

“Actually, yeah. Should I write off…”

You sit down, distracted by the papers flying everywhere, taking a pen and starting to write. Your mission is almost forgotten after you finish helping him with his taxes, smiling satisfiedly at the hefty return he receives. 

“Good,” you grin, admiring your work, “I’d say this is a successful tax file.” He swipes his tongue over his teeth, so attractively and seals the envelope, setting it down on his stack of things he needs to post. 

“Package to Marlene and Dorcas, papers to…” he rambles, pacing out his thoughts, “Oh, and my portfolio. Can you check if they’re alright to send in?”

“Portfolio?” 

“Oh,” he turns red, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “Someone asked me to model for them?”

“When?” you gasp. He hands you the envelope, and you carefully pry out some photos. 

“A week ago,” he murmurs, “Can you check these aren’t too…much?”

They’re glossy between your fingers and smooth, candid shots, some staged and every single one of them belongs on the cover of Vogue. It’s strange, the pictures of Sirius should be in a magazine, famed and lovely, but he’s right here. Nervously fidgeting around. He’s so tangible right now. You reach out to skim your fingers over the photos, then stretch them out to touch the skin near his lips. He’s taken aback but leans into your touch.

“I think they’re perfect,” you fold the envelope over, handing it back to him. 

He’s still looking incredibly ashamed of himself.

“Why do you look so sheepish?” you laugh, “Stop that! It’s alright.” You surge to hug him, “It’s amazing, Sirius.”

Sirius hides his face in your neck, “I feel like a show-off,” he mumbles and you laugh. 

“Sirius, it’s honestly alright. You’re not, far from it actually. It’s okay to have nice things.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being a wimp.”

“It’s fine, I understand. These feelings are completely normal, but that doesn’t mean they’re true. If I had a staggering net worth of a few hundred million and never told you, would you think I’m a show-off?”

He shook his head. 

“Exactly,” you smile at him, “Now do you want to go to the post office? It closes in half an hour.”

He nods, “‘Kay.”

The post office man greets him with some flirting, and he sets down his stack of parcels, ignoring him to go sign some of them. 

He looks over to you, “You’re his…” he studies your face, “friend?”

It makes you feel small and judged. You chew nervously on your lip, unconsciously stepping towards Sirius. You know you couldn’t possibly pass off as his girlfriend, but it’s an ugly reminder you don’t need. Sirius smiles politely, “These three are in a letter card, but can we get them to be delivered…”

After he pays, you try not to make it seem like you’re in a rush to get out. He notices, of course he does. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say to you?”

You stay quiet and Sirius does too. He drives to his apartment and sits down on his couch. You follow. He’s silent. 

“He said something about us,” you break the fragile silence, “About me.”

“What?” 

“Well he looked at me and then asked if I was your friend after giving me a once-over.”

Sirius shrugs, “Aren’t you?”  

Your heart falls, “Well–. The thing is–, look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I kind of– scratch that, I have this massive crush on you and probably more,” you wince, “Please be nice about this.”

He looks positively shocked. You can’t tell if it’s good shock or bad shock. 

You grimace, “And please can we stay friends?”

“You think I’m rejecting you?” he almost scoffs, lifting you easily into his lap. He’s so close you could count the colours in his eyes. A charcoal, a light cerulean, a tinge of yellow ochre, “After all my countless advances, the gifts, even inviting you into my piano room whilst I played, I couldn’t, sweetheart,” he says softly. 

“Haven’t you noticed I haven’t ever dated anyone since two years back? That I pretty much have been begging to be noticed by you these past years,” he continues, “All because I want to be yours. Because I couldn’t even think of wanting anyone else. I like you so much.”

“Hey Sirius?”

“Mm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did.”

You huff, “Can I kiss you?”

Before you can do anything, he’s grinning as he presses his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. When you break apart, he's still grinning. He thinks he will be for the rest of his life.

“Whoa,” you say as you grin at him. 

He hugs you tightly, “Please never say we should be friends again.”

You nod, “Never.” 

#sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction #sirius x reader #fluff #lily evans x reader #lily evans #x reader #harry potter #marauders #the marauders #padfoot #padfoot x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus john lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus x reader #hogwarts #gryffindor #james potter #reader insert #marlene mckinnon #dorlene

[nwjn-z]

Hello~ could I request Stan knocking on reader’s window in the middle of the night sad bc Randy’s being… Randy? So they go out to Stark’s Pond and sit on the bench while he rants and they drink n stargaze n stuff?

Late night confessions — feat. Stan Marsh x reader

warning(s): yelling, drinking, swearing

author’s note: OMG ANON IM SO SORRY I DIDNT UPLOAD THIS SOONER IVE BEEN REALLY BUSY, here you go tho i know it’s late asf but i hope you like it😞

It was 2:34 am, and the quite mountain town of South Park was in a peaceful slumber, but the Marsh household was anything but quite and peaceful.

“ALL YOU WANT TO DO IS DRINK AND MOPE IN YOUR ROOM ALL DAY INSTEAD OF HELPING YOUR FAMILY!” Randy seethes to his son.

“HELPING YOU WITH YOUR STUPID FUCKING WEED FARM ISNT HELPING THE FAMILY YOU DICK!” Stan spits back.

“You know what Stan? I am so sick and tired of your shit. You don’t do jack shit all day, you never want to help out with the family business, and when you do decide to help you always fuck up. You are going to get no where in life with this kind of attitude Stanley.”

All it took to push Stan over the edge was bringing up his future. Ever since starting high school, Stan biggest anxiety was what he was going to do with his life. The fear of ending up a “waste of space” kept him up at night.

“Seriously fuck you dad.” Stan sniffles as he storms out the house, wanting to be anywhere but “home”.

Stan gets in his car and makes his way to town with only his phone and wallet. He needed comfort right now. He needed to go somewhere that was familiar, somewhere that he felt safe at.

Stark’s Pond was special to Stan. Growing up it was his favourite place to be, where he hung out with his friends, where he had his first kiss, and where he had his few good memories with his dad.

But he didn’t want to be alone right now, he wanted to be with someone he could talk to, who would understand him, who could make him forget all about his problems, who could make him feel good no matter what, he needed you.

You were up late for no particular reason. It was summer so you were off your normal schedule. You mindlessly scrolled through your phone while the rest of your family was fast asleep.

When Stan made his way to your house he began to climb up on to your balcony. When he managed to do so he couldn’t help but stare at you through the space in between your curtains.

He saw you laying on your stomach swinging your legs back and fourth and holding a pillow to rest your head on while you where preoccupied with your phone.

You where so beautiful to him. You always had been since the day you two met. He loved your hair, your eyes, the way you talked, how you were always to quite yet kind, the way you made him feel so weak. He loved it all, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted nothing more than to make you his.

He continued to stare, looking longingly at you with hearts in his eyes until you noticed him staring and freaked out. He saw you jump and threw your pillow at your window before you realised it was him. You cursed him under your breath while you opened the curtain to open the window for him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You told him,

“I’m sorry I just got distracted.” he replied.

“What are you doing here, it’s almost 3 o’clock!” You said,

“I know im sorry, I just really need someone to talk to I just had a huge fight with my dad and I don’t know where else to go.” He says as his mind rushes thinking back to the fight as he tries to hold back tears.

“Hey hey it’s okay I’m sorry, we talk if you want I’m here for you.” You say sincerely.

Hearing your sweet voice speak to him so gently after being yelled at and berated makes him break his composure and hot tears stream down his face.

You immediately pull him into you and caress the back of his head as he buries his face into your neck, holding on to your waist for dear life.

After some time he reluctantly pulls away and wipes his face.

“I came over to ask if you want to go to Stark’s Pond with me.” He mutters as he tries to compose himself.

“Let me get my jacket.” Is all you say in response wasting no time getting your jacket.

“We’re gonna have to leave through my window, I don’t want to wake my parents.” You say zipping up your jacket

“Okay” he says meekly.

You both make your way out your window with Stan helping you get down. You get into Stan’s car and he begins to drive.

As you make your way to Stark’s Pond, you can’t help but stare at him while he drives. He has one hand on the bottom of the stirring wheel and the other hand on the gear shift. His hands are rough from years of sports and roughhousing outside, yet whenever you felt them they were so soft.

Your daydreaming was cut short when he came to a stop and you realised you weren’t at Stark’s Pond.

“I’m gonna grab drinks real quick, you want anything?” he asked

“I’ll just have whatever you are having, even though you shouldn’t be drinking.” you say in disapproval of his habit

“Yeah I know but I kinda need it right now.” he responds somewhat bashfully.

“I guess” you say.

As you sit in the car waiting for him you start to wonder why he came to you. I mean you guys are close friends but you thought that him and Kyle were closer, that he would go to his childhood best friend for things like this. Right?

You aren’t left with your thoughts for long as Stan quickly makes his way out the store and back into the car.

He gets back into the car and after a couple of seconds he starts to drive again.

The convenient store wasn’t far from Stark’s Pond so you arrived fairly quickly.

“We’re here” Stan announces

You simply reply with a hum in acknowledgment and make your way out the car with him.

You sit down and he hands you a drink before cracking open his. You two sit in silence drinking until your thoughts from sitting in the convenient store parking lot make their way back into your head.

“Hey, why did you want to hang out with me of all people?” you say still leaning your head back staring at stars

“What?” He asks, almost dumbfounded

“I mean like why not Kyle or Wendy even, they’ve known you longer and probably better than I do so I just thought you would go to one of them for something like this.” you tell him honestly

“Do you not want me to come to you?” He asks, worry written all his face and voice.

“WHAT!? NO! I mean i just thought that like, you would think I wouldn’t be any help you know?”

“Nah dude that’s bullshit, besides why would I go to my ex about my problems.” he chuckles lightheartedly

“I don’t know I thought she would get you I guess.” you say as he shakes his head “no”.

“Oh well what about Kyle then, surely he’d be your first responder or something.”

“Kyle doesn’t know shit about me at this point, anytime I try and talk to him about the things I go through he just doesn’t get it.” he responds truthfully

“We’re still best friends and all but, he just doesn’t understand why I can’t just “get over it” you know? It gets really fucking frustrating.”

You take a minute to process what he said but before you can say anything he begins to speak again,

“You aren’t like that though. You’re always so nice and never make me feel stupid or crazy for feeling the way that I do.”

His words flustered you. Only you made him feel comfortable and safe? You felt your heart clench at the thought. Without thinking you put your hand over his and finally look over at him,

“I’m glad I can be that person for you.” You say sincerely with a smile on your face

And just like that Stan just couldn’t take it anymore. You were truly the most amazing person he has ever known. You’re sweet, kind, and genuine soul made his heart swell and his face smile. He couldn’t hold back the words that left his mouth in that moment,

“I’m so in love with you.” He says with hearts basically in his eyes.

“What!?” You respond eyes wide and face flushed

“WHAT?!” he yelps, “OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT I MEAN I DID BUT NOT IF YOU DONT WANT ME TO AAAHH IM SORRY JUST FORGET I EVER SAID ANYTHI-“

“I like you too, well love.” you say honestly having waited for this moment for what felt like an eternity,

“Wait what?Really!?” Stan says, dumbfounded but simultaneously feeling his heart burst with joy

“Yeah dude” you respond with a lighthearted laugh, but before you could say anything else you felt the slight wetness of his lips on yours, relishing in the feeling you close your eyes and lean in, completely melting in his touch.

“You love me?” he asks smiling, wanting nothing more than to hear you say those three words over and over until he can’t hear anymore,

“I love you.” you say, more than happy to repeat that phrase till your voice gives out.

#south park #south park x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan x reader #stan marsh headcanons #stan marsh sp

[bidisastersanji]

Had literal (not just inspired) Ranma 1/2 ZoSan galaxy thoughts with @anniilaugh and oh boy oh boy oh boy

Zoro and Hawkeye are japanese martial artists training in Jusenkyo, China, they get to the cursed springs and don't listen to the guide about how they should definitely not fight there

Zoro falls into the cursed spring of the young woman and from then on his body turns female at the contact of cold water and back to male with hot water- his dad falls in the panda one.

Mihawk brings them back to Japan because he and his old pal Zeff had made a promise to marry their kids and join their dojos- he has to fight Zoro the entire way

Scene starts with Zeff sitting down his three adoptive kids with mommy issues (Robin, Nami and Sanji) to tell them they're about to receive his old friend Mihawk and his son Zoro- long ago they agreed to marry their kids to secure the "Anything goes" dojo's legacy, and both thought it wouldn't work out since they didn't have kids at first, but both ended up adopting in later years.

All three are pissed that they don't get a say in this- they've never even met this Zoro guy! Who cares if he's been training in China, they can probably still beat his ass.

Fem!Zoro and Panda!Mihawk are fighting it out in the street in the rain (which is what turned them both into their cursed forms)- Zoro is angry that his stupid father figure just decided this for him- fuck this, he's going back to China, and that's that! but Mihawk knocks him out and carries him on his shoulder to the Akaashi residence.

Back at the dojo, Robin hopes he's older than her, Nami knows she, the town lesbian with a gf (Vivi) won't be forced to marry him if it comes to it, and Sanji is just so angry that Zeff would make this decision for them- how stupidly old fashioned and this guy won't be taking over the dojo from them, no way. Also, who cares about a stupid boy. All that matters to him are beautiful ladies, after all. (still struggling a bit with being bi Sanji what's up)

A panda and a young adult come into the dojo and they're like ??? who the hell is this panda? the panda sets down Zoro in front of Zeff like "voila" and they're like! oh- could you be?

I'm Roronoa Zoro. Sorry 'bout this.

Zeff hugs him, feels the soft chest press against his own, and is like- oh. Did he misremember what Mihawk told him, was it a daughter after all?

Sanji is relieved, thinking Zoro is a woman (Zoro doesn't correct anyone, he doesn't really care, he just wants to get back to China and if this means he can get out of marrying on a misunderstanding, maybe it'll work out in his favour)- and he acts like his usual gentlemanly self with him, treating him to tea and asking him about his training. Zoro asks to spar, and Sanji truly couldn't- but can't say no to a pretty lady so they spar but Sanji never actually hits Zoro- always stopping right before he lands a hit, annoying the shit out of Zoro (what a prissy guy)

Having worked up a sweat (that Sanji guy wasn't half bad at fighting, even if he didn't actually hit him), Zoro goes to wash in the men's baths

Sanji, thinking "she" is in the women's baths, walks into the same bath, naked, and is faced with a very built, very attractive man in his bathroom, stepping out of the hot tub. he definitely doesn't ogle him

He panics and runs to the rest of the family being like "there's a pervert in the bathroom wtf"

Zoro joins them, dressed in the same clothes he was in before and reintroduces himself (I'm Roronoa Zoro, sorry 'bout this)

They all gather to go over what's happened in China (including demonstration as Mihawk throws Zoro into the pond) and Zeff cuts him off to be like

"There's truly no problem. So, Zoro, which of my children do you want to marry- although in his letters your father did mention you preferred men, and I only have one of those."

Robin and Nami pounce on this and push Sanji forwards "oh he definitely wants Sanji"- "what?? why me?"- "well, he's half a girl, so it works out perfect for you!"/"I'm a full lesbian and he's a gay man it's not meant to be"

Sanji fights this- "I don't want to marry this pervert!" "Who you callin' a pervert, you walked in on me, curly brows!" "yeah, well you were a strange naked man in my bathroom, so that makes you a pervert" "Yeah, well you took a pretty long, good look at me, so I'd say you're the pervert, ogling me" "I wasn't ogling you you brute!" "oh, I see, you were just jealous of how better built I am than you"

Sanji kicks him into the garden pond and leaves to take the bath he didn't get to take earlier

Zoro (in girl form) also goes to bathe, wanting to clean himself of the dirty pond water- and of course runs into Sanji, who gets a really bad nosebleed

AND SO BEGINS the slow burn of always bickering, full of misunderstandings, gender shenanigans, enemies to lovers arranged marriage Zoro and Sanji, with Zoro being really annoyed at the traditional gender roles that Sanji seems to be trying to enforce, and Sanji being constantly annoyed at this big brute of a man having no sense of priopriety and going around in his fem presenting form in ways that he thinks are a disgrace to womankind

but here is some more adapting:

Sanji, like Akane, has a crush on the local doctor (Dr. Law) but can't admit it to himself because he's still a bit struggling with the internalised homophobia from his birth father. Zoro finds it amusing in the beginning (before he catches feelings and gets jealous)

Again like Akane, Sanji starts with long hair and it gets cut because of a fight Zoro gets into with Pedro (who fell into the baby leopard spring), who will take the role of P-chan, sleeping in Sanji's bed and pining after him

Crazy love rivals galore and infinite fiance(e)s that Mihawk promised Zoro to of course:

the Kunos- Cavendish falls for Zoro when he meets him in his female form (oh my beautiful green-haired girl...). He always has the dramatic entrances (Cavendish, Age 17, the White Horse of Furinkan High), throwing his red roses everywhere. His just as...passionate? sister, Pudding, is in love with Sanji and thinks fem!Zoro is her love rival and tricks him into the rhythmic gymnastics showdown thing where Zoro has to be in a leotard, chained to baby leopard Pedro, both at risk of being exposed if hit with hot water in front of this crowd, and Zoro beats her with three clubs

Hiyori as Shampoo from the Amazon tribe who's at first sent to kill Zoro because he beat her in fem! form but then keeps trying to marry man Zoro who also accidentally beats her- Sanji is so mad about this specific one

Tashigi could be Okonomiyaki Ukyo (we think she's a man at first) or she could be Mousse (blind AF without her glasses) and turns into a goose with cold water

Brook as Happosai (old man with obsession for panties) who trains Zoro at times

Zoro doesn't get rid of the curse because plot but also even if he tried to, he would get lost if he tried to go to China by himself

Zoro's chest is 110cm no matter the form and Sanji is NOT OKAY

SO MANY NOSEBLEEDS (Ranma was such an ecchi manga and Zoro definitely has just as much propriety with his female form as Ranma does)

Nami makes money off of pictures of fem!Zoro like Nabiki does, selling them to Cavendish and all the boys at school who don't know the green haired girl is actually Zoro

Zoro was traumatised by the cat fu training Mihawk did to him as a kid and can only be calmed down and go back to acting like a human if he's pet and calmed down by Sanji. just like Ranma, he kisses Sanji in his cat form in front of the whole school (and doesn't remember it)

#ranma 1/2 zosan au #zoro x sanji #zosan #zosan fic idea #sanji x zoro #ranma 1/2 one piece au #ranma 1/2 AU #this would be just SO FUCKING FUN #with all the usual suspects attending the high school as well of course #zoro becomes friends with luffy and co #is there still the thing where people want to win sanji/akane's hand in marriage by beating her in combat? #that could be a fun scene for zoro to witness on the first day of school #hope I’m giving all the veterans some nostalgia #I grew up with Ranma as one of my first animes

[munson-blurbs]

Hawkins Boys (Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader angst/fluff)

Summary: You work up the courage to ask Eddie to the prom, but he seemingly turns you down in favor of Chrissy Cunningham. How will he feel when you show up with Steve Harrington?

Warnings: language, sadness, Eddie is an idiot, brief violence, Chrissy is lovely as always

WC: 2.7k

--

You:

Today is the day you do it. The day you face you fears, swallow your anxiety, and ask you best friend to the prom.

Eddie Munson is not a prom guy. He doesn't wear suits, he doesn't slow dance, and he probably wouldn't know romance if it smacked him in the head. But you've had a crush on him for ages, and you had to make your move. If he was going to fall for you, it would be on a night when you were dressed up and gorgeous.

He's sitting at the lunch table alone, waiting for the rest of Hellfire Club to come back with their trays of hot food. He nibbles at a pretzel, smiling when he notices you plunk down next to him. You fish two peanut butter sandwiches out of your bag and hand him one. You've been telling him that your mom insists on packing you two, but the truth is, you always make an extra one for him.

"We're almost done with this godforsaken place," you remind him. "You're gonna walk that stage and finally get your diploma."

"Can't come soon enough," he replies, taking a bite of the sandwich. "Told you all that '86 is my year!"

You giggle. "Would've been more believable if you didn't say the same about '84 and '85." He gives you a playful shove, making you laugh harder.

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, but he's still smiling. "I'm gonna miss these sandwiches when you go off to college." He raises it for emphasis.

"I'll send you peanut butter so you can make your own," you tease, though the idea doesn't sound half-bad. You just imagine him opening up a package filled with jars of Jif.

He cocks an eyebrow. "I thought I was supposed to send you care packages," he says.

There's a brief silence before you begin to speak again. "Eddie?" you start, "would you wanna go to prom with me?"

Eddie:

"Would you wanna go to prom with me?"

Eddie feels himself freeze. He was going to ask you later today after Hellfire, but now he's caught off-guard. He wracks his brain for what to say.

Steve had given him advice, the same that he had given to Dustin: don't seem too eager, too desperate; keep it casual.

"Oh, uh..." he stammers, running his fingers through his coarse hair. "I dunno...I was thinking of asking Chrissy." There. That would throw you off until he could ask you properly.

He notices as your face falls, and while it makes his heart pang, he doesn't read too much into it. He's already planned how he's going to ask you to prom, and he'll make up for it then.

You:

Tears sting at your eyes when you hear that Eddie's asking Chrissy Cunningham to prom. It makes sense: she's beautiful, sweet, kind, and recently broke up with Jason Carver. You blink until your watery eyes clear, but you know it's only temporary. As soon as the Hellfire boys crowd the table, you quietly slip away. The tears start to fall when you burst into the girls' restroom; sobs make your chest heave.

How could you be so stupid to think that Eddie Munson liked you. You'd been friends for ages; if he wanted to take things farther, he already would have. You lock yourself in a stall until you begin to calm down, at least enough so that you can wash your face and look halfway presentable for your next class.

You're blotting your cheeks with a paper towel that resembles sandpaper when she walks in. Chrissy fucking Cunningham.

"Y/N!" she exclaims, worry evident on her pretty face. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," you lie plainly, buying time to think of an excuse. "Just overwhelmed with the idea of everything being...over." Mostly your fantasies of you and Eddie, but you omit that crucial detail.

Chrissy nods knowingly. "I get it. It's like, we're big fish in a little pond, and soon we'll be little fish in a gigantic pond." She manages a small smile. "At least we still have prom!"

Your voice catches in your throat, and you cough before speaking. "About that..." You're not exactly sure why you're doing this; maybe because you really care about Eddie's happiness, even if it kills you. "I think Eddie Munson wants to go with you. But he's shy about it--you should ask him."

Chrissy wrinkles her nose in confusion. "Me?" she asks. "I've, well, bought from him a few times, but I never knew he was into me."

You laugh. "Chrissy, you're the Queen of Hawkins High," you say gently. "It doesn't take much for the guys here to fall in love with you."

She blushes, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "Well, it's not like Jason's gonna take me anymore," she laments, "and Eddie's always been nice to me. Sure, why not?" She pulls you in for a quick hug before flouncing off.

Eddie:

Eddie's relieved when you leave the table; it gives him a chance to go over the plan with the rest of Hellfire.

"So remember," he states, "the goal of today's campaign isn't to win; it's to ask Y/N to prom. Got it?" He looks around sharply at his flock of sheep.

"Got it," they chorus, and he grins.

"Excellent," Eddie says, clasping his hands together. "Now, Sinclair, you're going to--"

"Eddie?" a polite voice breaks his train of thought. He glances over to see Chrissy Cunningham, ponytail swinging in its green scrunchie. "Hi!"

"Um, hi," he answers with a cautious smile. He's not totally opposed to dealing in the middle of the cafeteria, but he prefers the privacy of the woods. "What's up?"

"I was just talking with Y/N," she starts, and Eddie's heart leaps at the mention of your name, "and she said you wanted to take me to prom but were a little nervous to ask."

The other Hellfire members gawp, puzzled at what's unfolding in front of them.

"Anyway," Chrissy continues, "I'd love to go with you! Meet at my place for pictures around 5?"

Eddie sits, slack-jawed, which Chrissy mistakes for introversion. "Here's my address," she slips him a piece of paper and beams. "I really thought I'd have no one to go with after Jason, you know..." she trails off, thinking about her ex's infidelity. "So I really appreciate this." She presses a chaste kiss to his cheek and heads back to her table.

"Dude," Mike Wheeler says finally, "What. The. Fuck?"

Eddie buries his head in his hands. "Y/N asked me to prom, and I told her that I wanted to take Chrissy so she wouldn't be suspicious of my plan, but I guess she...FUCK!" He slams his fists on the table. "What do I do now?"

Dustin slaps a hand to Eddie's back. "Looks like you're taking Chrissy Cunningham to prom, hot shot."

You:

You drive directly to Family Video after school to visit your friend Steve, ditching Hellfire without a second thought. Keith doesn't work Friday afternoons, and you know Steve will let you hunker down in the break room while you throw yourself a pity party.

The tears start up again as soon as you walk through the door. Steve notices immediately, hoisting himself over the counter.

"What happened?" he murmurs, pulling you in for a hug. His eyes widen when you relay the story to him.

"That doesn't make any sense," Steve mutters under his breath, rubbing your back with his strong hand. Eddie had just come to him for advice about you, like, last week. He'd made it abundantly clear that he wanted to take you to prom. Steve hadn't a clue about what changed since then.

"It makes perfect sense," you choke out. "Chrissy is perfect. Everyone loves her; it's not like Eddie is immune to her charm."

Steve takes a deep breath. "I can take you to the prom, if you want," he offers. "I know I'm not your first choice, but at least you won't have to go alone."

You nod gratefully. "Thank you, Stevie," you hug him, smushing your cheek to his chest. "You're the best." The thought of watching Eddie and Chrissy slow dancing still makes you feel sick, but you feel safer knowing that Steve will be by your side.

~

Your stomach is in knots as you, Robin, Nancy, and Vickie crowd around your vanity, teasing hair and applying makeup. The four of you look incredible: Robin in a red pantsuit, Vickie in a matching knee-length dress, Nancy in a baby pink tulle gown, and you in an emerald dress that ends mid-thigh. You've never felt more beautiful.

Your hand shakes as you bring the mascara wand to your eyelashes, and Nancy notices.

"Nervous about seeing Eddie?" she asks knowingly, and you just nod. She sighs and takes your manicured hands in hers, squeezing them tight. "He doesn't know what he's missing. Chrissy's great, sure, but you two could be soulmates. If he's too dumb to see that, he doesn't deserve you."

You give her the best smile you can muster and go back to readying yourself.

Steve arrives right on time. He takes a sharp breath inward when he sees you make your way down the stairs. You'd been friends since you were kids, seeing each other go through all the awkward stages of life, and he always considered you to be a little sister to him. Tonight, with you in that dress, he's thinking different kinds of thoughts.

"Y/N, you look amazing," he tells you, sliding a corsage onto your wrist. You pin the boutonniere to the lapel of his suit jacket, giggling as you accidentally prick your finger.

"You look so handsome, Steve," you say truthfully. "Thank you so much for taking me."

"My pleasure," he says, losing himself in your eyes for a moment. He clears his throat suddenly. "All right, let's ship out!"

~

The gym is decorated beautifully; it's hard to tell that it's usually filled with the sound of squeaking sneakers and basketballs bouncing on the wood floor. You make your way to the dance floor with Steve, Robin, Vickie, Nancy, and Jonathan. You're swaying your body and having such a great time that you don't even notice Eddie walk in with Chrissy.

Eddie:

But he notices you.

You're the first thing he sees when he enters the gym, looking absolutely breathtaking in your green dress. Eddie watches as you take Steve Harrington's hand in your own, twirling around and laughing. It's then that he realizes that Steve's tie matches your dress--he's your prom date.

That son of a bitch gave me shit advice so he could steal her, he thinks angrily, clenching his fists. I knew he was still a douchebag. I shouldn't have ever trusted him.

Chrissy wraps her hand around Eddie's bicep, pulling him closer. "You good?" she asks.

"Yeah," he answers too quickly. "Actually, no. Chrissy, I-I think you're an amazing girl. But I wanted to bring Y/N; I got scared when she asked me and made up something about wanting to take you, and not that I don't, but--"

"Eddie, relax," she puts out her hands to stop his rambling. "I thought it was kinda weird when she said you wanted to take me. I mean, everyone can see that you're in love with the girl."

Eddie blushes, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Is it that obvious?"

Chrissy laughs. "Do me a favor?" She waits for him to nod before continuing. "Go after her." The band starts playing a slow song, and Chrissy grins harder. "Perfect timing--ask her for a dance."

Eddie pushes aside his anxiety and turns to go find you. And he does--just as Steve leans over and pulls you in for a kiss.

You:

The band starts playing "Take My Breath Away" when it happens: Steve kisses you.

His soft, pillowy lips crash into yours haphazardly, like he hasn't thought his actions through. He gently places his hand on your forearm. You're too stunned to moved, and even more so when the kiss ends abruptly.

Or rather, it's ended by Eddie grabbing Steve by the collar, slamming him into the nearest wall.

Eddie:

"Harrington, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eddie snarls, shoving Steve so that his head nearly hits the wall.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Steve retorts. "Get your hands off of me and go back to your date!"

"The only reason I had to take Chrissy was because of your shitty advice," Eddie hisses, never letting go of Steve. "Telling me to play it cool, not to show too much interest. See how well that worked out for me."

"I said be aloof, not be an asshole!" Steve spits back. "Y/N asked you to prom--you should've said yes. Is she supposed to sit around and wait for you? After you straight up rejected her for the head cheerleader?"

And then Eddie finally sees it from your perspective. You worked up the courage to ask him out. You stood there while he seemingly chose Chrissy over you. You set him up with her, still wanting to ensure his happiness. And now you had moved on, moved on with Steve Harrington, and Eddie just had to accept that.

Unless he didn't. Unless he fought for you, like she should've been fighting for you this whole time.

"Where'd she go?" he asks, wide-eyed.

"Put me down, and I'll help you find her."

You:

You run out of the gym, desperate to escape the escalating drama. Footsteps echo behind you, and a male voice says, "There she is."

A large hand grabs your small one. You're pulled back, finding yourself face-to-face with Eddie.

"We need to talk," he says, his voice serious but gentle.

You shake your head. "Go dance with Chrissy and stop worrying about me," you tell him. "Please just leave me alone."

"I don't wanna dance with Chrissy," he says. "I wanna dance with you. I had this whole campaign planned out where I was gonna ask you to prom at the end, and all the Hellfire guys were in on it, but then you asked me and I panicked."

"I don't need your pity, Eddie."

"It's not pity," Steve interrupts, hands in his pockets. "It's the truth. He's an idiot, but he's an idiot who loves you."

"And you?" you ask quizzically, still confused about the kiss.

Steve chuckles softly. "I'm just an idiot who got caught up in the moment. I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you tell him, and he nods before starting to leave.

"Hear him out," he says before going back to the gym, jerking his thumb at Eddie.

You cross your arms over your chest as you turn to the metalhead. "It's really hard to be mad at you when you look so good in that suit," you admit shyly.

Eddie takes a step closer to you. "Remind me to wear suits more often," he jokes lightly,

"Or just stop doing dumb things."

He nods. "Noted." He turns slightly towards the gym doors. "Can I...will you dance with me?"

You grin. "Only if you tell me about that special campaign you had planned. Piqued my curiosity, I can't lie."

Eddie leads you back to the dance floor. You wrap your arms around his neck; he places his on the small of your back.

"So," you start, "that campaign?"

"Oh, right," he says, and you sense some anxiety in his tone. "Yeah, I'll tell you about that. But first..."

And then he kisses you, parting your lips with his own. You kiss him back, never wanting to break it.

It ends naturally, with Eddie smiling too wide to continue.

"What are you so happy about?" you tease, rubbing your thumb against his smooth cheek.

He presses his lips to yours again, more briefly this time. "You're finally my girl. Finally mine."

--

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic

[mulderscully]

some first prince fics that rearranged my brain recently (for anon)

pictures of you (pictures of me)

alex keeps polaroids.

Good Hands

That urge again, to open his chest and beg Alex to crawl inside there. Henry curls his fists to try and resist it; Alex does what he’s been doing since day one. He touches, seeks, opens Henry up. When he laces their fingers together, what else can Henry do but let him, and cling on for dear life?

Spun Gold

Henry's been on a long trip, and Alex finds that he can't quite function without him.

The rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door.

Alex drapes the towel through the refrigerator handle and leans his hip on the counter next to it. Folds his arms over his chest. “There is no chance you can go all weekend without sex.”

“Alex, it’s a weekend. I often went months at a time without having sex."

Alex grins. “Well, that’s before I came into your life. I’m like the gateway drug to sex addiction

a prince and a president

“Alex I’ve met your mum, lots of times in fact. You were there for most of them, remember?” Henry says, snapping Alex’s attention back to his phone.

Alex barks out a laugh at that because no, that’s not what happened at all.

“Baby that wasn’t my mom, that was the fucking President. And she met Prince Henry, not you, not my Henry.”

"Your Henry huh?”

“Yes, he has a dog with a stupid name, horrendous taste in pyjamas and the blandest collection of ties I’ve ever laid eyes on, but he’s aside from that he’s pretty fucking hot.”

L’Amour de Ma Vie

He studies his expressions like he'll be tested on them later, and he'll be damned if he misses a single question.

In other words, it's the Paris bed blooper.

AUs

Holding On and Letting Go

Alex hates his ex, Miguel, because he is a manipulative asshole, so he asks a stranger to pretend to be his boyfriend. It works out better than he thinks.

12 Year Starter

“Hazza, you poorly assembled toast rack,” Pez interrupts him, effectively stopping Henry in his tracks as he tries to untangle the absurdity of that description. “You are not cancelling your birthday dinner just because your – admittedly charming and extremely sexy – best friend can’t hop across the pond in quite as sprightly and timely a manner as we’d previously hoped. You shall go to the ball."

#fic rec #firstprince #rwrb #yeah it's all smut

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

From the news I'm getting here across the Pond, it seems like Liz Truss has perhaps achieved a marvel in that she's turning out to be more incompetent than Boris "Big Dog" Johnson. What are the chances the U.K. will have a new Prime Minister by the end of the year?

Yeah, she's exactly as competent really but, and this cannot be overstated, the person whose mess she's inherited IS Boris Johnson. But she compounds this with a Chancellor who is much, much worse.

Uh, this answer got long, sorry about that, but lol what can you do? Exercise restraint? Pfft.

By the end of the year... probably slim, as hilarious as the letters of no confidence are; the party can't survive another new leader that quickly. Johnson's greatest legacy - his greatest gift to the left - is the one he was always going to leave: he rose to power on a platform of 'feelings not facts', a method that is highly effective in the short term but horrendously unsustainable in the long run, once the shine of the bombast wears off and people realise that the bins aren't going out anymore. You cannot bluster and jazz hands your way through running a country indefinitely. You have to be competent at the daily grind.

Big Dog was not.

But during his tenure, everyone either threw all their weight behind him to suck his Union Jack-coloured cock and get a cushy ride themselves, or they were openly fired for disloyalty. He single-handedly created a Tory party that was defined by patriotism-flavoured incompetence. And then the bubble burst, and his old nemesis Mr Consequences came calling, and the situation was, very suddenly, that he was hot garbage - just absolute weapons-grade 'this is not a place of honour' levels of toxic - to have in charge of the party, but most importantly, crucially, none of them could get rid of him without also incriminating themselves.

That's why it took so long before the wave of resignations finally kicked things into happening. That's why it had to be a wave of resignations. None of the limping high school debating champions that were left in government could survive without him; even though he was actively poisoning them, they would die immediately with him gone. The tipping point came when finally that particular cost-benefit analysis see-sawed the other way.

And what's left? What was always going to be left: a hardcore radical group of 'feelings not facts' fascists, and an insipid hodgepodge of self-deluded clowns with the life skills of a particularly underwhelming five-year-old, all of whom are embroiled in bitter internal bitching wars and cliques and spend their days writing each other's names in a Burn Book rather than doing their jobs.

Everyone is blaming each other. No one is taking responsibility. The party can no longer agree on anything, except perhaps "Woe is us."

This latest leadership contest was actually a vicious thing that added to the damage and made the in-fighting worse. If we now add ANOTHER to the pile... well. I think we would see, at minimum, mass defections to UKIP. Very possibly some new political parties, like what Labour did when Jeremy Corbyn was too left-wing for them so Angela Smith and Chuka Umunna founded Change UK and claimed it was because Corbyn was racist and then Angela described people of colour as "black or a funny tinge... you know, a different... from the BAME community" and then Change UK was quietly dissolved after 10 months and no one remembers them anymore. It would be a disaster, is what I'm saying.

A new Chancellor, though... that's more likely, I think. Kwasi Kwarteng was rumoured to have had an affair with Liz Truss and honestly I strongly suspect that's why he got the job - he wrote a stupid book about economics that no one liked, on the night of the Brexit vote was overheard by a journalist saying “Who cares if sterling crashes? It will come back up again", and then became Chancellor, and then released a mini-budget last week that has tanked the pound to the lowest performance against the dollar since records began and immediately embroiled his PM into a financial crisis so bad she literally went into hiding for a day and a half. The UK is... actually completely fucked, as of this week. I cannot overstate what a fucking unmitigated disaster that budget is, or the damage it's causing. We were already doing very badly. This is catastrophic. This is like having an infected foot and everyone being concerned because it's turning gangrenous, and then Kwasi turns up and chops off both your legs and your dominant hand and then also the legs and dominant hands of everyone else present as well, except for himself and his rich mates. We are a long, long way beyond "First, do no harm."

But Kwarteng is also very replaceable.

However:

Liz Truss is extraordinarily stupid. I honestly don't know if it will occur to her to sacrifice him. If she's sensible she will; but 'sensible' is not a word I associate with Liz Truss.

The other option, of course, is an early general election being called, for the seven-hundred-and-fifteenth time in the last decade I stg. However, Tories only call for those if they stand a chance of winning.

One poll yesterday put Labour thirty-three points ahead of the Tories.

To put that into perspective, if that were to translate into a GE performance, the outcome of the vote would leave the Tories with...

THREE SEATS.

But! Of course! It's not so simple anyway:

That was an opinion poll, and those are always more extreme than an actual vote because people use them to express dissatisfaction. A vote would not be that extreme.

That was one of several polls yesterday. If we take an average, the actual figures are:

Labour are nineteen points ahead of the Tories.

Would you like some context?

In 1999 when Tony Blair won his landslide Labour victory - the greatest Labour lead in recent history - do you know what his polling lead was?

Twelve points.

Lol

So it is vanishingly unlikely the Tories will call a GE themselves. Their only hope now is that they can somehow do a good enough job to fix their party and win public confidence back before the next GE, which will be no later than January 2025.

In ENTIRELY UNRELATED NEWS I'm sure, Labour have just declared that they are backing a change to a proportional representation voting system in place of the UK's archaic first past the post system. Funny that.

#politik #the adventures of big dog the clown #going to need a new tag

[differenteagletragedy]

RIP MC (Sorry Baxter)

So i got a request for Baxter finding out MC had died during the five years he was gone and I wrote this WHOLE ASS THING without realizing what that meant. So if I do two Baxter angst fics in a row with a dead MC, please don't call me out on it, I already know :(

"Did you have fun in Cali, Ass-ter?"

"I did, Richard, and that's very clever, as always."

Baxter let out a light sigh, not very excited to be reunited with his college roommates. He tried to focus on his task on unpacking his things as Richard and Matt, the two spoiled rich boys he shared a suite with in one of the school's more expensive dorms, high fived over the unbearably stupid nickname they'd given him during their freshman year.

He was a spoiled rich boy too, he recognized. But at least he was a little quieter about it.

He began the task of putting his finer clothes in his closet, carefully picking up the hanger his tux was on and putting it away first. He ran a hand fondly over the coat, remembering the last time he'd worn it. With you.

When his roommates decided to turn on the tv, looking for a game, he barely paid attention, instead lost in his thoughts. He'd been miserable, even more miserable than normal, since he'd left you. He kept telling himself that it was for the best, that it made sense, that you wouldn't miss him nearly as much as you'd thought you would -- probably not even at all. He was fun for a little while, he knew that much about himself, but carrying out a relationship, even just a friendship, over texts and phone calls across the country?

He wasn't worth that. He'd hated seeing you so upset with the way he left, but at least it was a sharp sort of pain over the dull ache that would had happened as you inevitably lost interest in him.

"Hey Baxter, isn't this where you were?"

"Hmm?" he asked, barely registering what Matt had asked. Both boys were looking at the television, so that's where he turned his attention.

There was your picture on the screen. You were smiling brightly, dressed in a swimsuit. He recognized both.

He stared at the photo, puzzled, trying to piece together what your photo would be doing on the news. It was like his brain got a little foggy trying to figure it out, but a few words did fight their way through.

"Rip current," was one he heard. Another was "drowned."

His heart started beating faster, so hard that it became all he could hear. The room started getting hot, much hotter than it had been, and breathing became difficult.

He vaguely registered his roommates approaching him, but instead of trying to fight through whatever he was feeling to respond to them, he promptly turned and left the suite.

Baxter wasn't sure where he was going, he just knew that the room had suddenly become much too small. Without thinking much about it, he made his way out of the building and started walking. He wasn't aware of any conscious thought he had, too overwhelmed by the pounding of his own heart, and suddenly he was by a small pond on campus, kneeling by the edge of the water and gasping for air.

It didn't make sense, he thought. That couldn't have been you. It must have been someone who looked like you. Why would you be on the news all the way in Virginia? And there was no possible way you could have drowned. Not in the ocean you knew like the back of your hand.

Still, as much as he tried to convince himself that he'd misunderstood what he'd heard, an aching pain began forming in his chest, and soon he was sobbing.

If anyone else had noticed him down by the pond, they didn't approach him. He sat like that for a while, trying to remember how to breathe and telling himself over and over that you were ok, before he remembered the phone stuck down in his pocket.

With a considerable amount of hesitation, he pulled it out, then opened his browser. After shaking out his hand a few times in an attempt to steady it, he did a search for your name.

He'd heard right the first time.

He read as much as he could stand -- you'd gone out to the beach by your house the night before to swim, but you hadn't come home. That morning, as people from the neighborhood searched, your body ...

That's where he stopped reading.

Baxter hadn't planned on ever seeing you again. He knew that. As he flew over the country after leaving you, he'd tried to minimalize the entire summer and what it had meant to him until he'd almost convinced himself that that's what he actually wanted.

But knowing now that it wasn't a possibility to see you again, that it would never happen ... that even if he magically became a person who could believe in himself and fight for what he really wanted, that he couldn't have you, was a pain he couldn't have ever prepared himself for.

Once his tears slowed, he pulled himself up, absentmindedly brushing off his legs. He looked in the water. It was dark and still, nothing like the ocean he'd seen with you over the summer. Even so, he couldn't stop himself from picturing you in there, struggling.

He slammed his eyes shut and put both hands in his hair, then balled them into fists, pulling. The pain became forefront in his mind, and he managed to take a breath. Then another.

You were going to be there, Baxter realized. In the water. In the sand, in the mountains, in bowling alleys and cupcakes and feather boas and coffee shops. In summer. There was no way of changing that.

He was just going to have to find a way to live with it.

#our life beginnings and always #olba #our life #baxter ward #olba baxter #our life baxter #baxter x mc #baxter x you #baxter x reader #baxter ward x you #baxter ward x mc #baxter ward x reader #our life angst #i've been thinking about baxter in college so i already knew about richard and matt and those guys are the wooooooooorst #i've been trying to write about college baxter but it's just so so sad

[gemgirl28]

Hi @gemgirl28! From the writing prompt list you posted earlier, may I please request:

32. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified,” for Zutara!

Thank you, and I hope you’re having a good day!

Hello dear! Thank you! It was a nice (mostly) lazy Sunday 💜 I hope you have a great day as well!

OOOOOO I SEE YOU HERE YES. YES VERY MUCH. Watch this get out of hand SO fast.

32. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Katara hastily stuffed her papers in her bag, heart racing, hands shaking. The council room, always so hot and stuffy, felt impossibly small in the wake of Minister Yun's proposal.

Katara had to get out, had to find some fresh air, had to breathe.

She raced through the twisting hallways of the Fire Nation Palace, barely sidestepping servants in her haste to drop her bag in her office. Once deposited, she stood for just a moment, debating the risk of hurting herself is she jumped from her tiny office window and caught herself with the pond water, or if it was worth it.

Minister Yun's dry voice echoed in her ears, and her mind was made up.

The window it was.

She wrenched it open and jumped onto the edge. Just as she was swinging her feet over, one arm already searching for the cool water, someone cleared their throat.

"I know the meetings are bad, but I didn't think we'd quite reached 'jump from a second story window' bad."

Katara froze, holding her breath, as if that would make him go away. How could she be so stupid as to leave her door open?

"Katara? Are you okay?" Zuko asked, fully coming into her office and closing the damned door behind him. He stopped just on the other side of her desk, hands raised as if to reach for her.

She closed her eyes, counted ten slow, steady breaths, and decided she could fake it for just a few more minutes. Just enough to get him out of her office so she could make her escape.

"I'm fine, just wanted some fresh air." Not a lie. "The meetings are... fine." A lie. "I just... needed some air," she repeated, nearly wincing.

"Katara- is this about-"

"Did you need something Zuko?" She interrupted. No one else on his council would dare interrupt the Fire Lord. Then again, no one else on his council could be considered a close, personal friend.

Just a friend. Just- friends.

Still, his brow furrowed at the interruption. He took a cautious step closer, and then another.

"Yes. You- you rushed out of the meeting so quickly, I wanted to check on you."

"I needed some air."

"You said that."

She shrugged, not able to find any other words for the clawing sensation inside her chest. The office was starting to shrink, too, the way the council room had.

"Katara- I'm not going to marry Minister Yun's daughter."

He said it softly, but the force of it still sucked all the air out of the room.

"Why- why not? It would be advantageous, would it not?" She hated the way her voice shook.

Zuko sighed, and took another step closer. "I don't love her. It's important that you know that." Another step. "And after a hundred years of war- after everything the Fire Nation has been through- well, I think I could do worse things than marrying for love." Another step, nearly to her. "You must know that."

"Why does it matter if I know?" She asked on a breath. They both swallowed.

"Because- I think I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified."

"Zuko-" She couldn't find her voice before he kept talking, and she wondered if she'd even said his name at all.

"I do- I do love you. I am terrified, because you mean so very much to me." He took a deep breath. "But I think- if maybe, you thought someday you could feel the same- well, I definitely shouldn't marry Minister Yun's daughter."

"I do."

Zuko froze in place from where he'd nearly reached her, still perched on the edge of the window. "You do-"

"Love you. Already. I love you." Spirits, what a relief it was to say it after all these years. Katara grinned. "And it is terrifying. But- but Zuko, I love you."

"Why haven't you- you never- Katara-" he started, stopping when she laughed.

"Come here and help me down so I can kiss you."

She'd never seen him move so quickly before.

And the next day, when Zuko formally turned down any and all future marriage proposals in favor of marrying for love, Katara thought it still sounded terrifying, but also like she could breathe just a little easier. Especially when Zuko smiled at her.

Send me a prompt and a pairing!

#I did warn you this would get out of hand #and here we are #but my gosh how perfect for them #zutara #zutara ficlet #thanks for the ask love! #thegratitudeworkshop #my asks #my writing

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Who's the little mouse?

Short fic based on this post. The opportunity to drag this bastard through the redemption arc kicking and screaming is too delicious to pass up.

"Now who's the mouse again?"

You felt a well-deserved grin worm its way onto your face as you stared down at the devil at your feet.

Raphael didn't say a word, only looked at you with the most spiteful glare he could muster. It didn't look very threatening, what with the broken horn, bleeding lip, and swollen eye.

"Bravo," Raphael spat out, some blood staining his doublet, "what are you waiting for then, hm?" He gave you a grimace of a smile. He tried to sound confident but you heard the waver in his voice. Raphael knows what happens to demons in hell. You know it too.

You almost felt sorry for him. The devil had his charm even with his ass kicked like that. It was ridiculous, this man had a mansion powered by tortured souls, and yet... killing him felt wrong. Not undeserved you just had a feeling that it should not end like that.

Just then, Gale cleared his throat,

"Come now, let's finish what we've started. This orb isn't getting any more stable and we still have to decide what to do with the crown."

Right, Crown of Karsus. A mighty mcguffin all these big fish in this pond called Baldur's Gate hunt for. You still don't quite understand how it works but you got the idea from Gale's lectures.

And just like that, an idea formed in your head. An idea so devious, so cruel it will make Raphael wish he was dead. Your smile must've slipped into a dangerous category because you noticed the devil visibly flinch whilst looking at you.

"Gale, c'mere." You beckoned the wizard with your finger, a voice deceptively sweet.

The wizard gawked at you, "Uh, sure."

Amidst hushed whispers exchanged with the rest of your party a words like "Holy shit..." and "Are you nuts?!?" were thrown around but in the end, Gale took the crown and walked towards Raphael.

"Are you sure about this?" he called after you.

"Yep!" you sing-songed, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"You're actually scaring me, soldier."

"Just hurry up! I'm dying to see what happens, a-ha!"

Raphael wasn't sure what transpired between you and your comrades but he was smart enough to know he was not gonna like it. In the last, desperate attempt he tried to scare off the wizard who was chanting some gibberish and wielding an object he worked so hard to get his hands on.

"No! Stay back! Do you know who I am?!? You will regret-aaaaarrggghhh!!!!"

A white-hot searing pain went through his entire body as if his very cells were rearranged, and then...nothing.

This emptiness wasn't what he imagined. Surely black tendrils would rise from the ground, dragging him to some archdemon to feast on. Instead, it was like he was dreaming, almost as if he could wake up at any time.

Hold on...

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" A booming voice shook him up from his slumber.

Raphael jerked up. With sunlight blinding him, the whole world spinning and his imminent death postponed, the devil was more confused than ever.

"Wha-what's going on? Where am I?" The devil fumbled, his glib tongue abandoning him.

"We're on our way to Baldur's Gate," another voice chimed in, too familiar and amused for his likings.

He turned his head and zeroed in on the man lounging on the crates behind him. Raphael knows this man, the fool who sold his soul to Mizora.

"Glad you're awake. We thought you were never gonna open your eyes again. Can't believe fucker's plan actually worked!"

He knew this voice too, Zariel's soldier, Karlach. Stupid enough to think she's free of her. Her words made Raphael pause.

"What is this plan you speak of?" He glared her way.

Karlach shrugged, completely unbothered that there was an archdevil in front of her, and jerked her head forward.

"Why don't you ask the boss?"

Thanks to these words, Raphael finally understood where he was - in a rickety wagon stuffed with junk and people he hated the most. Is this his form of hell??

Despite himself, Raphael stumbled to the front of the wagon, legs wobbly like a freshly born fawn. He felt so weak, what did these vermin do to him?!

He almost fell onto the driver's porch where he found you. His favorite mouse and the person who held all the answers.

You looked at him with an easy grin. That unnerved him the most. You always treated him to cold glares and disgusted snarks. Actually, everybody in the cart looked as if they knew a joke he did not. Raphael had enough of this charade.

"You'll tell me everything right now! Or I swear you'll burn with the hottest flames of hell!" He hissed into your ear.

You only gave him an amused side-eye, and kept your eyes on the road as you spurred the horses on, "Oh, yeah?"

He ignored the simmering in his belly at the challenge in your eyes. "Oh, yes..." He grasped your chin and turned you to look at him. "Now tell me-"

"Careful now, you keep leaning from the bench and you'll fall down and break your neck."

He chuckled darkly "Oh little mouse," he leaned close enough he could feel your breath on his lips, "someone like me can't be harmed with tha-aah!"

The world tilted on its axis and just like you said he was falling, arse first into the dirt. For a moment, Raphael just lay there, staring at the azure blue sky as he tried to comprehend all of these new sensations.

This shouldn't hurt, he should've killed all these sinners the moment he awoke, but when he tried to tap into the infinite pool of his demonic magic...it was empty.

What's happening?!?

You were the only decent enough to stop the wagon and rush to help him, the rest just laughed like fools.

To add insult to injury, the githyanki woman just looked down at him from her spot in the carriage and scoffed.

"Pathetic."

#bg3 raphael #bg3 karlach #bg3 tav #bg3 fanfiction #raphael x tav #sorta? #raphael x reader

[secretwhumplair]

Welcome

1,061 words | Mirai and the serpent king (sequel to Awakening)

Content | Slavery, fear, shame

Notes | Honestly not a lot of exciting things happen in this one but. Mirai is glad about it lol

Taglist | @yet-another-heathen @echo-goes-aaa @whumpinator

For a moment, Mirai stood there, feeling ridiculously lost, then Rizi came up to him; several of the others, too, came closer to look at the new arrival, interrupting what Mirai now realized was an advanced stage of breakfast.

»Hi, Mirai. I’m Rizi.«

They shook hands, Mirai in a daze that couldn’t quite decide between happiness of being surrounded by friendly-seeming peers, and terror of so many unknown faces and hearts. »H-hello.«

Rizi introduced the others who had come, four nosy creatures: two humans, a snake and the centauress. Mirai already knew he’d fail to remember their names at the first try, but they continued to seem friendly, and they backed off when they noticed how nervous he was.

»Come on,« said the centauress, »there’ll be plenty of time to get to know each other.«

He was left alone with Rizi, and stole a glance at the elf. He hadn’t approached, but watched him with interest, quietly chatting with a snake in iridescent dark scales Mirai hadn’t known existed. When he caught Mirai’s eye, he gave a wry smile and looked away.

»That’s Izara and Shasha. I’m sure you’ll get to know each other, don’t worry.«

Mirai simply nodded, once again ashamed of his voice. What would Izara think? Maybe it would be better if they didn’t get to know each other… but then, that didn’t seem an option, living in such close quarters.

»Do you want to have breakfast first, or the tour?« Rizi asked. »It won’t take long.«

»Oh.« Mirai was taken aback by even the possibility of a choice. »The, the tour, please.« That was what the serpent king had ordered, after all.

»Alright! So this is our living room,« Rizi gestured at the room around them, then led the way towards the arches, which opened, as Mirai realized when approaching, onto- »The balcony.«

There were a pair of tables with seats on the balcony as well, with a pretty view of a pond full of water-lilies, surrounded by old trees, of which several were flowering.

Mirai found himself with a hand to his heart. It felt good, having a little beauty to look at almost at his leisure.

»Like it?« Rizi was smiling, and it barely felt vulnerable to admit it with a nod.

»You don’t like talking, huh? Does it hurt?«

»No, I just…« Mirai swallowed, once more reminded. »It’s… I miss my voice,« he confessed. »And it’s… it doesn’t bring up… fond memories.«

»Ah.« Rizi reached out and patted his shoulder awkwardly, and somehow, that was the final straw.

Before he knew it, Mirai was bawling in Rizi’s arms. Shame washed through him—how could he, when Rizi and the others were in the same position?

But Rizi didn’t try to escape. They held him, rubbed his back, and muttered, »Shh, it’s alright now. You had a rough journey, huh? It’s okay.«

»I’m s-sorry,« Mirai sobbed, and pulled back.

»It’s okay, really.« Rizi squeezed his hand. »Most of us were a bit of a mess when we got here. Especially us not-snakes. Foreign traders don’t make the journey with wares they can get rid of elsewhere, we’re all… we’ve all been through it.«

That only served to make Mirai feel worse. They all had suffered equally, and here he was taking advantage of Rizi’s kindness. »I’m sorry.«

»Me too, for whatever happened to you.« Rizi smiled sadly. »Here’s better than anywhere I’ve been, I promise.«

»Okay,« Mirai muttered, feeling stupid even as he said it. »Thank you.«

Rizi awkwardly rubbed his arm once more, then asked, »Ready to go on?«

Mirai nodded, his cheeks flushed hot.

They took him back inside and turned to the first door on the left. »Here’s our bathrooms—the other one is right opposite. We’re expected to keep ourselves clean and tidy for the king.«

Mirai nodded; that made sense. The bathroom was generously large, with several washstands, racks of towels, a shelf with various jars, brushes, and soap. In the middle of it, there was even a tub.

»I guess you’ll have your hands full with your hair,« Rizi noted, walked over and picked up a jar out of the shelf. »This’ll be useful for it. Brush it in like once a week.«

»Yes, he- the king said something like that,« Mirai recalled, relieved to find out where and how he was expected to do that. »Thank you.«

»Sure. Hey, if you have any questions, you can ask me, alright? The others too. They don’t bite. Come on.« Rizi led the way back into the main room, where Mirai immediately noticed the more covert curious glances he still drew, then to one of the open doors.

They entered a simple bedroom, containing a large bed, a wardrobe, and even a small desk under a regular-sized window—small in comparison to what Mirai had seen elsewhere in the palace. »And the rest of these are our bedrooms. There’s ten of them and like, what, now fourteen of us, but some people already share so I’m sure you’ll find a spot. Actually I’m not sure anyone sleeps in here at the moment, so, if you want to sleep alone… And during the day, most of the time some of them are free. Just let people know if you’ve got to be alone for a bit. We’re making it work.«

»That’s, um. That’s lovely, thanks.«

»And that’s about it, I think? Like I said, if you have any question or are unsure about anything,« at this they gave Mirai a dubious look, as if they could already tell he was unsure about most things, »just ask, okay?«

»Okay,« Mirai muttered, even knowing he probably wouldn’t have the nerve. Not soon, anyway.

He followed Rizi back into the living room, where they returned to the table they had gotten up from.

The darkest-skinned human, having finished breakfast, was just dealing out cards to the four people around the table, three humans and the startlingly thin brown-patched snake. »You in, Rizi?«, and when Rizi affirmed, she looked at Mirai. »What about you? We’re playing Blossoms.«

»I- I don’t know how.«

»You can just watch a round and see if you want to join the next,« Rizi suggested to general agreement and Mirai’s relief. »You need to eat, anyway.«

Mirai let himself sink into a seat cushion, and for the first time, caught his breath.

#whump #whump writing #my writing #slavery whump #mirai and the serpent king #mirai #rizi

[thatswhatsushesaid]

Do you ever get frustrated when fandom lumps SMS in with charactera like JGS, WC, WLJ, etc? Maybe it's just a very stupid pet peeve of mine but I really wish people would stop lumping SMS in with cartoon villains because he is very much not one. He is a Character and a very crunchy one at that

hmm. the thing is i personally don't see sms lumped into the same category as those characters very often. which isn't to say those shitty takes don't exist, just that i haven't stumbled across them in the tags recently, probably because the people who feel that way about him have me blocked. honestly i think the thing that most bugs me about common fandom mischaracterization of sms--and this is about fic rather than meta or other garbage hot takes--isn't that he is turned into a cartoonish villain absolutely unrecognizable from his canon characterization. that shit exists for sure, but it isn't really what bugs me the most.

what really frustrates me is that he often just. isn't there. at all. because he's seen as boring and incompetent and uninteresting to write about, you see.

and that to me feels like a depressing, but also fitting reflection of how much of the cultivation world sees sms: just this forgettable nobody who can't do anything right, who fucks up trying to summon a sword from a lake, who in the novel tries to give mianmian up to wen chao, then clumsily shoots the protagonist with a fucking arrow while trying to help, who's a petty and resentful coward doomed by the massive chip he carries on his own shoulder. which is true, he is absolutely all of those things. he just isn't only those things.

because in cql, he's also the guy who is desperately afraid for lan xichen's safety during the burning of the cloud recesses and pleads for him not to stay behind, but to run and take the irreplaceable tomes of the gusu lan library with him. this, right before he is abandoned by the rest of the inner disciples and is left to fend for himself against wen xu while the rest of the outer disciples are slaughtered around him. yes, he caves and admits to wen xu what the secret is to enter the cold pond cave where lqr, lwj and the others are hiding, and admits that lan xichen has fled with what is left of the library. but look at his face while he's enduring this:

this 👆👆👆 is not the behaviour of a coward. it's the behaviour of a brave man who has cracked under extreme pressure. because su minshan fought! he tried to protect his sect! and he lost! and the inner disciples, including lan wangji, can hear all of this as it happens from within their hiding place. this betrayal of the gusu lan by su minshan is also, imo, a betrayal of su minshan's loyalty up to this point. the gusu lan owed him better than this.

su minshan rewards loyalty with loyalty, and with courage. and i don't think there's a better example of this in the text than his dogged determination to protect jin guangyao during the guanyin temple confrontation. i know i've written about his death scene in the novel several times before, but i'm going to haul out the quotes one more time because i find the scene as beautiful as it is tragic:

As expected, gurgles came from within Nie MingJue’s throat. His body turned away from the empty coffin as well. At once, he realized whom the person lying on Su She’s back was. Wei WuXian’s whistles could no longer stop him either. Like a gust of wind, Nie MingJue rushed over, his palm flying towards Jin GuangYao’s head.

Su She dodged to the side with force. With the tip of his foot he picked up the sword that had fallen to the ground and conjured up all of his spiritual energy in one thrust at Nie MingJue’s heart. Perhaps because of the dire situation, the attack was abnormally swift and ruthless. Brimming with spiritual energy, the blade glowed brightly, enveloped by swirling radiance. It was so much better than all of the previous seemingly-elegant attacks that even Wei WuXian wanted to praise its excellence. Nie MingJue was forced a step back by the explosion of an attack as well. As the light dimmed somewhat, Nie MingJue went forth again, clawing at Jin GuangYao unstoppably. Su She threw Jin GuangYao at Lan XiChen with his left hand, while with his right he sliced at Nie MingJue’s throat.

Nie MingJue’s entire body was as impenetrable as fine steel, but not the thread that stitched his neck together!

If the neck attack succeeded, even if it wouldn’t defeat Nie MingJue entirely, it’d still be able to save them some time. However, the sword had been infused with so much spiritual energy, due to Su She’s sudden explosion, that it could no longer withstand it. Halfway through the lunge, it broke into pieces with a crack. On the other hand, Nie MingJue’s punch landed right in the center of Su She’s chest. Su She’s splendor left as quickly as it came. He couldn’t even spit out a mouthful of blood or say a few last words, no matter with dignity or cruelty, before the life in his eyes went out.

Collapsed beside Lan XiChen, Jin GuangYao saw this scene as well. Whether because the bleeding and the pain intensified at his arm and stomach or from some other reason, the glisten of tears could be seen in his eyes.

- EXR Translation (Ch. 108)

anyway, su minshan may begin the novel as a coward with a grudge, but i think his death proves that he was never actually afraid to die. he just needed to find a reason--a person--worth dying for.

#asks answered #mdzs meta #su she #su minshan #emotional support henchman