#the only reason i came was for those sleeping pods

[holllandtrash]

you know 6 to 1 yn said something about carlos’s mustache and lando threatened to grow his hair back out of playful jealousy

word count: 4.1k tags/warnings: some angst, jealousy, mentions of smut kind of part of the 6 to 1 series

carlossainz55

liked by ynleclerc, scuderiaferrari and 391,202 others

carlossainz55 off to Canada 🇨🇦 let's keep pushing

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scuderiaferrari now that's a smoooth operator

spicysainzz its illegal for a man to look this good

ynleclerc god don't tell me you're growing out your facial hair now too

carlossainz55 you love it ynleclerc sure

“Oh so you like Carlos’ facial hair?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You didn't look up from the cutting board, already deciding that whatever Lando was on about wasn’t as important as making dinner.

“You like his facial hair,” Lando repeated, a statement this time. 

It was impossible to not give him any attention when he shoved his phone in your face. You took a breath, asking yourself what you were getting yourself into as you dropped the knife on the counter and tuned in on his screen, more specifically, at the comment you had left on Carlos’ most recent picture. 

“It’s a harmless comment,” you scoffed, knowing that your friendship with Carlos was nothing for him to worry about, yet he always seemed to be triggered by the most mundane things. 

“But you like his facial hair.”

“Are those the only words you know how to say?” 

You pushed the phone out of your face and turned properly to face him, only then seeing that he wasn’t taking this conversation as a joke the same way you were. His jaw had tightened, the lines in his forehead displayed his very prominent annoyance and you flipped a switch to react accordingly, hand going up to cup his cheek

“Lando,” you said, a slight shake of the head. “You’re being dramatic. I commented on my friend's photo. Who is also your friend. It’s nothing to get worked up over, okay?”

Lando and Carlos were still two peas in a pod. Their bond was unbreakable but since you started dating you could tell he was always slightly on edge whenever you and Carlos were alone together. And of course Lando trusted you, you’re the one person who held his heart he knew you wouldn’t do anything to damage it.

It was Carlos he didn’t trust. 

He didn’t like that Carlos had never once talked to Lando about the kiss you had shared. It was this strange, unspoken thing, but when you tried to explain how weird it would be for Carlos to approach him and say ‘hey, I had feelings for your girlfriend and we kissed but don’t worry about’ it didn’t really click for Lando. 

So he just held his breath and watched from a distance whenever you interacted with the Spanish driver and if he felt your conversations lingered a little too long for his liking, he’d find a way to pull you aside and remind you who exactly you were in the paddock for. 

He had no control over what happened on Instagram, though. And it wasn’t like he was going to tell you to unfollow your brother's teammate, so he just ignored any bitter thoughts that came to mind if he saw your name show up in Carlos’ likes. 

But that comment. 

It was friendly, sure, but it was the fact that it was on the topic of facial hair that really stung. Lando knew how much you hated his facial hair when he tried to grow it out and the only reason he ended up shaving was because you made your dislike for it so abundantly clear. 

So why the fuck did you not hate it on Carlos?

Carlos didn’t have as difficult of a time growing out the stubble like Lando did. And his already prominent moustache was just only going to get thicker and you didn’t hate it. It was clear by your comment, despite it being sarcastic, that you didn’t hate it. 

And Lando hated that.

“You’re really bothered by this,” you said aloud when it sunk in that this wasn’t something Lando would get over after a good night's sleep. 

“I am, yes.”

“And what's bothering you, exactly? The fact that I commented on his picture?” You asked, wanting to get to the root of the problem. “Or are you annoyed that I had a different reaction to his facial hair than I did with yours?”

Lando hesitated before finally muttering a quiet, “Both.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed on his chest, wanting not only a bit of space from his childish ways of thinking but also wanting to finish dinner. You picked up the knife and went back to mincing the pepper, not about to coddle Lando or assure him that he had nothing to worry about because this was a conversation you had had way too many times for your liking and if he didn’t know you loved him by now then that was his problem. 

But Lando wasn’t about to move on as easy as you had, “I’m just saying-” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” You cut him off, voice shaper than the knife in your hand. Each cut against the board echoed in the confined space and Lando could tell you were applying more pressure than needed, relying on your actions to show that you really didn’t want to have this conversation.

And Lando stayed quiet for the rest of the night. Not just about the picture, but in general. When you asked him to set the table, he did so without his usual childish complaints. The conversation between you during dinner was cold and distant but you didn’t want to press further, knowing that he’d get over this in his own way.

You thought things were fine when he crawled into bed shortly after you did because he curled his arm around your waist like normal, pulling you against his chest as his soft breath hit your neck. You whispered ‘goodnight to him, but his lack of response wasn’t something you thought too much about. 

It wasn’t until you woke up did the trouble really begin. 

You walked into the bathroom first thing in the morning, rubbing your eyes and the residue of mascara that didn’t come off after washing your face last night. After turning on the sink and letting the water run, you wiped a disposable cloth over your face and tossed it out immediately after. Naturally, the rest of your morning routine would have followed, had a perfectly good electric razor not have caught your eye at the top of the garbage can.

“Lando!” You basically screamed, knowing he was in the inbetween stages of awake and asleep when you had gotten out of bed. You heard the rustling of sheets and the patter of footsteps as you grabbed the razor out of the bin. 

When you turned around, one hand resting on your hip you saw a very tired Lando standing in the hallway. Usually the sight of him bare chested and wearing nothing but boxers was enough to have you contemplating dragging him back to bed, but not this time.

“What is this?” You asked, so obviously talking about the razor Lando had thrown out the night prior. “A peaceful protest?”

Lando looked at you and then at the little contraption and then back at you, a hint of a playful smile on his face. Of course now he thought this was funny.

“Yeah that’s a good way to put it.” 

“Are you fu-” you sucked in a breath to avoid losing your shit on him five minutes after waking up. “Why?”

“Because I’m growing out my facial hair again.”

“Why?” 

“Oh is that the only word you know how to say?” Lando asked, mimicking your question from last night with more sarcasm than you wanted to deal with at nine in the morning.

You rolled your eyes and shoved the razer into his chest before storming past him, dragging your fingers through the roots of your hair while he was forced to call your name, stopping you from slamming the door to the bedroom.

“What?” Lando asked, voice raised. “Why are you so upset about this?”

Your hands tensed, cupping your own face as you exhaled into your palms before your arms fell back to your side, “I’m upset because you clearly are doing this because of that stupid comment on Carlos’ picture.”

“Maybe I just want to grow my facial hair out again,” he shrugged, leaning against the wall as he crossed his arms over his chest. He hadn’t thrown the razor out again, but that didn’t give you any sort of hope that he would hear you out.

“You don’t,” you scoffed. “You told me yourself it wasn’t permanent the first time. You just wanted to try it out. You tried it and it turns out, not for you.”

“Maybe I’ll like it more the second time.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him, instead choosing to turn on your heels and start to walk into your bedroom, muttering a quiet, “Maybe I’ll hate it more the second time”

“Oh but you love Carlos’ facial hair.”

That stopped you in his tracks. Lando finally admitting that it was, in fact, the comment that was getting to him. Carlos and your interaction was the catalyst to all of this and instead of Lando seeing it as an exchange between friends, he was taking it personally.

You turned back around and walked right up to him, nearly chest to chest when he straightened up from the wall. Lando and you didn’t usually fight, both of you knew how important communication and trust was and it was and after the rocky start you had, you never wanted to go back to a place of uncertainty with him.

But this was fucking annoying.

“That’s what you’re mad about, huh?” You asked, holding his stare. “The fucking comment. And you think that growing your facial hair out is, what, a way to get back at me? Because you know I hate it?”

Lando said nothing, a dead giveaway that you were 100% right and he was simply being immature for the sake of being immature. 

“Okay,” you nodded, throwing Lando off when your tone went from deadly to calm before he could blink. “You want to be mad? Fine. I’ll give you something to be mad about.”

Lando watched as you walked back to the room and he hesitantly followed, trying to make sense of whatever that ominous warning was that just came out of your mouth. He didn’t say anything when you walked out of the closet, fully dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. An Enchante t-shirt even though he thought you were past wearing Danny’s merch. He didn’t say anything when you grabbed a backpack from under the bed and put your wallet and a few other necessities in there because it wasn’t like you were packing. This flat in London was basically your second home and this spat seemed too minor for you to be packing up your things and leaving.

But you were going somewhere.

“Where the hell are you going?” Lando asked when you finished brushing a comb through your hair. You slung the straps of the backpack over your shoulder and then, this was the kicker, you grabbed your passport that was sitting on top of the dresser.

You barely looked at him as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing against his before you headed straight for the door. 

“Back to Monaco. See you in Canada.”

—————

You were true to your word. Cutting off communication with Lando until you landed in Montreal the Thursday before the grand prix weekend started. 

Lando, in return, did not reach out. But he did make it perfectly obvious that he was growing out the facial hair again, making sure to post about it every chance he got. You swore you had never seen him share so many pictures on his photography account and were you a little upset he went to New York without you? Kind of, but you were stubborn and so was he and you had now found yourselves giving each other the cold shoulder over a goddamn comment on Carlos fucking Sainz’s instagram picture.

“What’s up with you and Lando?” Charles asked, an unmistakable pep in his voice that you raised your eyebrows at. He stood next to you on the balcony overlooking the paddock, arms rested over the railing and mirroring your position, but he cleared his throat and reworded his question. “It’s just, something’s up, no?”

You shouldn’t have been surprised he figured out there was tension. If Lando’s fans could put two and two together when you neglected to comment or even like any of his pictures, your own brother could figure it out too.

“He’s an idiot,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well I could have told you that,” Charles snorted. “What really happened?”

“I commented on Carlos’ picture a few weeks ago and Lando took it as me liking Carlos’ facial hair even though I made it perfectly clear I hated it when he was trying to grow out his hair.”

Charles took a second to repeat your words in his head, “He’s upset because you commented on Carlos’ moustache?”

You nodded, “And now he’s growing his facial hair out again out of spite.”

“This is about so much more than facial hair isn’t it?”

You clasped your hands together. You felt Charles’ eyes practically burning holes into the side of your head but you focused on the people wandering around the paddock. 

“He’s just dramatic and immature,” you muttered, deciding that was an easier answer than to have a whole therapy session with him. “He’ll learn his lesson, though. I have an idea.”

“Why do I have a feeling you are also about to be dramatic and immature?”

You laughed in response, right as you spotted the exact person you needed to help you with this idea. You patted Charles on the arm and told him you’d see him later before you all but sprinted down the stairs of the motorhome to chase after the other Ferrari driver.

“Carlos!” You called out, running after him before he could get too far. He turned around when he heard his name, a smile on his face when he recognized the voice belonging to you. 

You had to admit, the grown out facial hair did suit him. Carlos was always handsome but this made him look more mature, more distinguished. 

“I need you to do me a favour,” you said, a playful smile painted on your lips.

Carlos nodded, “This sounds like deja vu.”

“It has to do with getting back at Lando.”

“Now it really sounds like deja vu,” His eyes widened momentarily as he thought back to what happened in the club when you last asked for his help. He was still traumatised from that DJ set. But Carlos loved you, platonically of course, he would always help you. “What do you need, hermosa?”

A few photographers started to crowd you and usually at this point, any driver would continue walking to get away from the unscheduled media harassment. But this was what you needed.

You raised your hand up to his jaw, thumb tracing over the hair he was growing out as a shimmer of adoration glossed over your eyes. Your lips curled upwards and Carlos, even though he was certainly confused, played along, loving any excuse to mess with Lando.

“Just tell me to kiss you and I will,” Carlos joked quietly, face only inches from yours, and you pushed on his chest in response. He caught you a little off guard when he reached for your hand and pulled you back before you could force some space between you. 

You glanced at his lips as Carlos held your hand between your bodies. You reached up with your other hand to cup his chin lightly, thumb dangerously close to his lips. To anyone walking by, it most likely looked like you were about to kiss him.

But you got all that you needed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shooting him a wink before you pulled yourself from his grasp and walked back to the Ferrari motorhome, knowing that the media was about to have a field day with those photos. 

You didn’t see Lando at all in the paddock. Whether that was intentional on his behalf or not, you had no idea. You did, however, see your name blowing up on twitter along with all of the comments about how you and Carlos looked too damn friendly to be just friends. 

Lando’s text came about an hour after your name started trending. 

Charles told you that you potentially took it a step too far, having a few choice words himself to say about you and Carlos, all of which you tuned out and told him you knew what you were doing. 

But you weren’t entirely sure who had the upper hand when you got your key from the receptionist and made your way up to Lando’s suite at the end of the night. You purposely took your time getting there, deciding to go out for dinner with a friend first before finding yourself at his hotel.

And now you were holding your breath as the card reader turned green and unlocked. You pushed the door open, not having anticipated seeing Lando sitting on the couch and leaning forward as he scrolled through his laptop that was perched on the coffee table. He heard you walk in, heard you put your bag on the counter, heard you slide your shoes off and clear your throat, but he didn’t look up once.

Lando simply turned the laptop around on the table so the screen was facing you instead. On the screen was a tweet, or maybe it was a photo from Instagram, you were standing too far away to tell the source but you could make out the image of you and Carlos.

More specifically, the image of you holding your hand against Carlos’ cheek and giving him the smile that was usually reserved for Lando. One he hadn’t seen in almost two weeks.

He clicked on the trackpad and the next one appeared. Much more intimate than the last as this was the photo that gave Lando a heart attack. He didn’t expect to open his phone after the media pen interview and see pictures of his girlfriend about to kiss his best friend.

You didn’t regret what you did, that little act. You didn’t actually do anything except plant an idea in Lando’s head.

“What do you want me to say?” You asked, gesturing to the laptop. You took a few, horribly slow, steps forward. You were nervous about how this conversation would go, but you knew how to mask your emotions enough and as Lando stood up, eyeing you over, you didn’t buckle under the weight of his gaze.

He scratched his chin, his overgrown stubble, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth.

You expected him to snap. To say something about the facial hair, about the photos, about Carlos. You hadn’t seen each other in weeks and you assumed that the first conversation you had would be a fight, because, let’s face it, you were both dramatic and immature.

But you didn’t expect his shoulders to drop and for his stare to go from cold to distant as he opened his mouth and asked a question that broke you the way nothing else in your life ever could.

“Do you love me?”

It caught you by surprise, “Do I-” You took a few steps forward, the wall you had up had now fallen and all you wanted to do was reach for him. “Why are you even asking that? Of course I love you. You know I love you.”

“So then why?” He asked, referring to the photos.

You exhaled a breath before responding, “Because you were making a big deal out of that stupid comment, Lando.”

He stepped forward too, closing the gap between you inch by inch, “I made the appropriate amount of deal over seeing my girlfriend flirt with someone on social media.”

He hadn’t raised his voice, not yet. It seemed that you both wanted to avoid that. You weren’t ones to yell at each other, you argued, yes, but your voices never echoed off the walls. 

And you didn’t want to yell, not when you knew what this was really about.

Your lips parted, but you barely got a thought out, “Lando-”

“He still has feelings for you.” He stated, as if Carlos had told him that himself. “He still likes you and I know- I know you guys are friends, I can’t tell you not to be friends but I don’t like the way he looks at you. I don’t like that you are blissfully unaware that he’s into you, that he’s-”

“No, you know what I don’t like?” You cut him off sharply. “I don’t like that this is clearly something that’s bothering you and instead of talking about it to me from the beginning, you let it simmer and focus on things like comments and facial hair and being childish, Lando.” 

When you stepped forward, Lando thought you were about to lose it on him. Instead, you lifted your hands to cup beneath his jaw, your thumbs gently tracing small circles on his cheek and Lando could finally breathe because this was the first time in days he was feeling your touch and even though things were strange between you, your hands holding his face in font of yours felt right.

“You need to talk to me about these things,” you told him. “If something’s eating at you like this. How was I supposed to know this was so much bigger than a stupid fucking moustache?”

Lando laughed at your question, because it really was insane when he thought about it. He should have told you about his distrust with Carlos instead of letting his frustration boil up.

“Lando, I love you,” you whispered with a soft chuckle. “I love everything about you, everything that matters. Your heart, your soul, the way you treat people, your sense of humour, the way I can trust you with absolutely everything, how you managed to win over my entire family and for fucks sakes, yes, I absolutely hate your facial hair but have you ever stopped and thought about why?” 

Of course he hadn’t. Lando acted first and thought later.

He hesitated before asking, “Why?”

The corners of your mouth turned upwards, your eyes darting down to his lips as you pulled him closer, his hands finding your waist. 

You lips hovered over his, teasing him with a ghost of a kiss, something just within his reach but when he tried to connect your lips you kept pulling back, leaving him hanging.

“Because it itches.”

Lando pulled his head back, still in your grasp but no longer trying to kiss you as confusion flashed over his features instead.

“Itches?”

“Itches,” you repeated with a slow nod. “I don’t like your facial hair-” you ran your thumb over his chin and the stubble he had grown out. “-because when you go down on me, it. Itches.”

Lando opened his mouth, only to close it promptly while your words sunk in. Of course that had never crossed his mind, that the feeling of his facial hair rubbing against the inside of your thighs, near your folds, would cause displeasure. 

“And I’m sorry about the incident with Carlos,” you continued on, knowing you had to address it. “I’m not making excuses but if you are acting childish, I- in return -will also act childish. If I had known it was about more than facial hair, I wouldn’t have caused such a scene but god, Lando, I don’t give a shit about Carlos growing out a beard or a moustache because it’s not his lips on me. It’s not him eating me out.”

Lando cleared his throat, not surprised that you were so blunt with your choice of words. You always were. He was surprised, though, when you stepped away from him and turned around, leaving him a little speechless as you walked towards the bedroom.

Before stepping through the door frame, you glanced over your shoulder and raised your eyebrows at him, “Are you just going to stand there?”

That got him moving. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off as he followed your footsteps, discarding the top behind him. When his arms slid around your waist, pulling your back into his chest, you melted into his hold.

You craned your neck, giving him more than enough access to press his lips to your skin. Your hands covered his as the quietest moan followed a strained exhale. He trailed his lips upwards, but refrained from going further, lifting his head up after just a few seconds.

You turned and looked at him, spotting that stupid grin on his face. 

He nudged you towards the bed, “Get comfy, my love, I need to take care of something first.”

You didn’t need to question what he had to take care of. He planted a kiss on your cheek and retreated towards the bathroom. Doing what he said, you climbed atop the bed and you as well, had a stupid grin on your face when you overheard the dull sound of an electric razor trailing in from the hallway.

And god was it music to your ears.

#lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #ln4 #holllandtrash #6 to 1 series

[itjazzbicch]

Finally

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Fem Reader 

Summary: Fighting feelings for quite some time, the reader tries to find the courage to boldly get those feelings across to Zoro, thinking she failed temporarily, just to find out Zoro feels the same and keeping this a secret, their crewmates end up being the reason that secret gets out...

Note: This was a request from my Wattpad!

Warnings:  SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!)  Swearing, mentions of drinking, Sanji being a simp (LMAO), rough sex, spanking, unprotected sex (Wrap it before ya tap it!)

Word Count: 2.3k 

I hated getting lost in my head.

It was dead at night, and I was in bed, staring at the ceiling—one thing in my mind.

Zoro.

I came onto the crew right after he did, and despite him being a bit of an asshole, we were two peas in a pod. Earlier that night, while eating dinner, the way he looked at me made a question arise.

Did Zoro like me?

--------

"Hey! What happened to my sake?!"

"Sake? What sake? Hehe!" That's what the little shit deserved for stealing my last bit of food!

He was mugging at me and hiding this smirk.

That damn smirk.

-------

"Fuck it."

I knew deep down inside there was something, and I didn't want to wait to find out. Hoping out of bed, I tiptoed my way to Zoro's room.

Peaking my head in, he was laid back with his arm over his head, not noticing that I was there till I came in, picking up the blanket to get into his bed.

His eye opened to see what I was doing, bumping him with my hip as I got in and chuckled, "I can't sleep, so move over, asshole."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I just told you that I can't sleep. Now, shut up." I mumbled, laying back and plucking his forehead as he started to push me with his feet, "Keep them things off me!"

"You're the one who came and tried to make yourself at home!" Still kicking, I fought him off, taking his arm and wrapping it over my waist:

"You act like we haven't had to share a room before!"

Shutting up, Zoro stared at his arm, his cheeks a pink hue, murmuring at me as he closed his eyes, "Whatever."

Laying still, the thoughts I had circled in my mind faster. Not long after, his body was heavy. He had to been asleep. Seeing him asleep so up close, I found him adorable. Our heads were side by side, lust making my eyes fall to his lips.

For some reason, something was telling me to kiss him, my nose brushing his before I stopped myself, panting softly as I realized what I had almost done. Trying not to move so much, I fixed my head straight and closed my eyes with a deep breath, slowly drifting into a slumber.

——————

"BREAKFAST!"

"Luffy, urgh," Why was he so damn loud? It woke me right up, stretching and giggling as Zoro took the words straight from my mouth:

"Shut the hell up, Luffy."

Rolling on his back and stretching, I was already awake, yawning softly to him:

"Well, I guess it's time for breakfast."

"Not so fast," Taking my wrist, he pulled me to my side to look me in the eyes.

There went that look again. My heart was racing just from that alone, let alone when he said:

"I know that you were ready to kiss me last night."

"Uhh-I-" Not sure what to say and stuttering, I took a deep breath before confessing, "Look Zoro, I can't help but feel a certain way about you."

There was a brief silence; I looked away from him as I continued to confess in my whisper:

"I like you a lot, and I almost couldn't help myself."

Taking my chin, I sucked in a deep breath, thinking the worst but getting the best as he kissed me.

"You really do, huh? It's not like you to be all shy like that," He whispered between kisses, crawling on top of me, legs intertwining, our kisses growing so much deeper, "You're lucky I like you too, or I would've kicked your ass out of my bed."

"Just shut up and kiss me," Rolling my tongue made him groan, fighting back with his tongue, getting lost, deeper and deeper with our arms embracing one another.

I was starting to get a little too lost, rolling my hips against him. It was just too good, Zoro picking his head up to look at me, but our eyes looked towards the door as we heard Luffy again:

"ZORO AND Y/N BETTER GET UP, OR I'M GONNA EAT THEIR FOOD!"

"Greedy," Zoro groaned, sitting up as did I, suggesting to him:

"Maybe we shouldn't tell them just yet?"

"Yeah, they'd lose their shit," He yawned, helping me out of bed and groaning, "And it's too early for that."

"It'll all work out," I smiled tiredly, kissing his cheek before slipping out first, making sure to yell at Luffy, "Touch my food, and you're dead, Luffy!"

Keeping us a secret was probably for the best. We were still on the sea, and with all the stuff we had to keep up with until we got to the next island, it would just be too much on our plates.

Only a few short weeks passed, and it was hard to keep up with it considering Zoro was always kissing me when someone wasn't looking or tapping my ass, having to avoid him sometimes as my urges were so hard to fight.

Doing that yet again on the day we finally made it to the next island. Thankfully, there was a civilized village, and they didn't seem to care about pirates.

Nami had sent Sanji and me out to get some things from the store, and we had to restock our food, which was a lot, so I figured I'd help anyhow.

Of course, Sanji was flirting away the entire time, wouldn't let me carry a thing, and kept trying to buy me things. It was hard not to be mean to him, so I wasn't too hard on him, forcing him to give me some of the many bags to carry back to the ship.

"Oh, Y/N. You've been so good to me today! I won't make you carry all these bags to the ship!"

I didn't even try to fight it this time, handing over the bags I had and watching as he carried them, following till he said:

"Ah! Ah! Stay put; give me just a second!"

Again, I just listened, watching as he rushed up to the ship, then came back down to me, placing his jacket at my feet:

"There's a puddle. Allow me, princess."

"Thanks, Sanji," He was so lovesick that he didn't even care that I was laughing at him.

Offering his hand to me, I gave him the tiniest bit of satisfaction by taking his hand, letting him guide me up back on the Sunny.

"Aww, what a lovely couple you two are," Nami teased as I made it up deck, Sanji hugging and squeezing me with a squeal:

"You think so, Nami-Swan?! Y/N is the CUTEST thing!"

"Thanks a lot, Nami," I said sarcastically, glaring into her eyes as she giggled:

"Hey! I'm just saying that you two look cute together!"

"We do, don't we, Y/N-"

"Don't you have some food to put away before Luffy eats it all?" Quickly changing the subject, I wasn't worried about the food, but more so, Zoro on the other side of the deck, glaring with his hand on one of his swords.

"Oh, my goodness! You're right! You're so smart, Y/N!"

"Better be quick!" Pushing him away, he ran off to the kitchen, and I could finally breathe, exchanging looks with Zoro as I went to my room.

Thanks to Nami and Sanji, my blood pressure was through the roof, but it didn't take long for that moment to be in the past. Everyone ran their errands, and we decided to have dinner on the Sunny. After, we all wanted to hang out.

So, we shared some drinks, and it was someone's brilliant idea to play truth or dare. All of us sitting in a circle, it was funny and stupid at first, till Brook asked:

"Zoro, truth or dare."

"Truth," Zoro spat out while drinking, cocking his eyebrow as Brook asked:

"Is it true that you think someone on this ship is hot?"

"Yes."

The silence in the room was almost scary. I was nearly sweating. Why would Brook ask that? Did he catch Zoro and me before? Considering he was just bones, he could move quickly without attracting attention.

Zoro wasn't budging, just shrugging at everyone as they expected an answer.

"Anyways....." Nami began to break the silence, turning to me, "Y/N. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," I hoped she would make me do something funny to break up this awkwardness, but all eyes fell on me as she smirked at me, clearly knowing something.

"I dare you to kiss Sanji," The gasp in the room had me ready to kick everyone's asses, but she wasn't done yet; Sanji's jaw fell as she added, "Or Zoro, and say why."

I let out a massive sigh of relief, glancing at Zoro, who scooted closer to me, smirking and licking his lower lip.

"Wait just a damn second! And you back up, Moss-head! This is unacceptable!"

"Too damn bad, chef," Zoro huffed at him, turning back for my lips to smack into his.

Everyone was losing it; Robin even trapped Sanji with her powers because of how hard he was spazzing out, getting to the next part of the dare as she asked:

"The explanation?"

"Zoro's my boyfriend, duh!"

"HE'S YOUR WHAAAAAAA?!" Everyone screamed out with Sanji, who was now crying, and I had to laugh, nodding at them and kissing Zoro again:

"You heard what I said."

Even Zoro was a bit shocked that I called him my boyfriend, his cheeks pink again, but I understood, considering how I had avoided him. After this game, there was no point in keeping it a secret. Someone knew something with the way Brook and Nami strategically set up our turns.

"Tell me this is a nightmare!" Sanji kept crying, and this game was ruined. Standing up and heading out the door:

"I say we call it quits, huh?"

"Yeah," Zoro was right behind me, snickering at Sanji's crying, mumbling as the door shut, "I'll give that stupid chef something to cry about."

"What was that?" I briefly caught what he said, snatching me up into a kiss, stumbling our way to his room:

"I said, I'm going to give that stupid chef something to cry about."

"Oh, is that so?" I giggled, kissing back, "Wanna tell me how?"

Next to the bed, he turned me around and bent me over, leaning down to nibble my ear while tearing at my pants, his deep growl having me shake with arousal:

"By making sure he hears you screaming my name."

He was dead serious, even more relieved that we didn't have to hide this anymore, teasing him while helping to get out of my clothes:

"Been dying to get your hands on me, huh?"

"Don't act like the feeling isn't mutual," Spanking my ass hard, I jolted into place with a moanish hiss, my ass stinging with heat, already rolling my eyes at how good his cock felt nudging my clit, letting me feel his length as he rubbed his cock through my slicked fold, "You know you've always wanted this."

"Give it to me, Zoro," I took one big deep breath, knowing I wouldn't get another for a while.

Taking two handfuls of my ass and spreading me as wide as I could, he placed his tip at my entrance, slowly pushing his tip in for just a moment before slamming his cock into me, my face slamming into the mattress and barely muffling my lewd moan.

"Like that's going to do anything," He chuckled, spanking me again and pulling back just to slam his cock clear up to my cervix, right in his words, as my moans couldn't be muffled.

His thrusts only grew quicker, sweating and having to pick my head up to try and breathe, only moan and whine, his skill blowing my mind:

"Fucking hell, Zoro!"

Pinning his hips and rolling them, he made sure to drag out my sudden orgasm, considering how quickly it came, leaning to bite at my neck and leave marks behind.

"Already made you cum, and you didn't even know it, huh?" He was happy to find his new way of poking at me, placing a foot up on the bed, his arm strong enough to lift my hips while rubbing my clit, bottoming out and drilling into me, the sound of his wet balls slapping against pure proof of how much I had came already.

"Do it again!" I was practically begging, woozy and cockdrunk, trying to pick myself up to kiss him but beginning to crumble from the built-up heat and pressure in my core, "I'm already about to cum, again!"

"Oh, I know," He snickered in my ear, able to lean and kiss me, sloppy from how much I was moaning, his hand coming up to take my throat, keeping my head up so all the screams of his name could be set free, my ass stinging from how hard his hips slapped against them.

"Zo-Zor-" I was gasping so hard that my voice went out on me, my walls clamping his cock so tight that he stopped, gripping my hips hard and shaking as I drenched his cock.

"Fuuuuck," Growling under his breath, he pulled back, biting his lip at the temptations in his mind, pushing back deep one last time before pulling out and taking a high-pitched moan of mine with him, "Don't wanna let me go, huh ma?"

"No," I whined at being left so hollow, knees shaking at the hot cream I felt spilling as his cock rested on my ass, running his tip through our mess and tapping my ass, smirking as I looked back to him and hinting:

"Maybe someday." 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece smut #one piece oneshot #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro imagine #zoro smut #zoro oneshot #request #read and enjoy

[saradika]

— WASTELAND, BABY

part i. the fear and the fire of the end of the world

[masterlist]

boba fett x f!reader

rated E - 3.4k

tags: fallout au, post-apocalyptic, canon-typical themes, canon-typical violence & death, mentions and use of guns/weapons, death of people and animals, sort of slow-burn

a/n: I’m so excited to share this series with you! Reader is new to the world, so much will be explained (game knowledge not required to enjoy!)

The year is 2297, and your days in Vault 113 are spent among the pages of your books - of fairytale romance, of noble knights and handsome princes. That is, until you venture from your Vault, and are immediately thrust into the harsh and cruel world of the Wasteland.

And when you find yourself being rescued by a man in armor - you can’t help but wonder if those beloved stories might just have come true.

You still dream about the sleep.

In shades of sepia, the perfect days that never seemed to end. That always seemed to be just a little bit familiar, like you had taken each exact step before.

The idyllic neighborhood, slow jazzy notes floating in from open windows. Cars that rolled down the street until they were out of sight, always at the same time. Perfectly behaved dogs, in their neat, square yards.

Now - now that you're out - you don't know why it took you so long to notice.

Maybe you didn't care. Were content to play through that single, perfect day. To ignore - at first - the glitches. The fuzzy part of your brain that said that something wasn't quite right.

The itching memory, that something bad was going to happen. Something you had picked at, until it was raw and aching and oozing.

You wonder if that is why you woke up. That something in your brain triggered the stasis - the reason why on that morning, your eyes opened to shades of green and grey.

A dome of glass overhead, a sick pneumatic hiss when you hand flattened against it. The mask you tore from your mouth and nose as you were born onto the tiled floor, shivering and confused.

It had all come back to you.

The blaring of the siren.

The man, ushering your family into the vault.

The promise, whispered with clasped hands.

It will all be okay.

We'll be together, don't worry.

Climbing into the pod, the slow sleep that came after. Waking up, in your old life.

Never waking up that way, again.

You had sat in silence, for hours. Unsure of what to do, where to even start.

Freezing in place when there was a whirr, the sound of movement - as a robotic being rolling into the room, checking the readouts on the large display.

With thick treaded tires, and a sleek, domed head. A mass that looked like a brain floated inside with one large, fixed mechanical eye. It churned your stomach, as it chirped at you.

You are 1825 days ahead of schedule. Please return to your tranquility lounger.

The pod wouldn't let you back in, though you had tried. The red button pushed flat, the screen unresponsive. Leaving you alone and helpless as you looked at the circle of others.

Of your family and neighbors and friends, still in their perfect dreamland.

You lingered there, a while longer. Too afraid of what was beyond its safe walls. Only nudged into moving when the cramp of hunger became unbearable, until you couldn't take the repeating, robotic lines any longer.

Metal doors had opened into other rooms. Empty and sterile and shades of grey steel. Bits of your memory came back - the hallways you ran through. Glimpses of what lied in them, in your rush to the pods.

Eventually, you found a mess hall. Twin machines lined the walls - white with cherry red accents, rows of cafeteria-style tables in front of them. They were still humming with life when you approached, reading the lettering across the top in blocky, silver print.

VAULT-TEC FOOD SYNTHESIZER

The press of a button dispensed thick, pink paste onto the metal tray beneath. It felt like mush in your mouth, the vaguest flavor of something, but not enough to mask the unpleasant texture.

But, much like everything now - the loneliness, the isolation - you learned to bear it.

There are some things you found, in the days that came after, that were not quite so horrible.

A room full of beds, where you tested each one to find the best. Stripping the pillows and blankets, until yours was as close to cozy as you could get.

There was a device you found, in a room full of bubble-screen computers, with their black screens and green, blinking text. It sat half-out of its box on one of the tables, and you were unable to resist removing it from its casing.

A screen sat in the middle, on top of a thick, leather strap. A booklet fell out - the pages now dog-eared and crinkled from the amount of times you read it. The first lines still seared in your memory.

If you're reading this, a scorching wave of atomic fire has likely turned the surface into a wretched husk of its former self... which means your Vault has been activated! You now have in your own hands one of America's finest, easiest-to-use personal-computational tools: the Pip-Boy.

It becomes one of your prized possessions.

Sitting heavy on your wrist, an endless supply of screens and dials that entertained you for hours. Readouts and documents and even simple, chirping games to fill the empty hours with.

The other thing you came to cherish most was the library.

Well, you called it that - though it barely compared to the ones in your memory. It was a small room - a pair of plastic chairs, beneath a thick, metal shelf lined with books of all shapes and sizes.

You'd read them all, in the months you stayed there. Even ones that made your eyes burn with their dryness; Dean's Mechanics, Infiltration Techniques Vol. 2, Pugilist Quarterly.

Fingering tracing over the thin pages, trying to make sense of things you had never heard of before.

But your favorite were the fairy tales. Just four books, among the two dozen.

Grimm and Perrault. Andersen and Lang.

Their books thick and illustrated, the spines and covers stamped with gold.

The romances were the ones you visited, again and again. Younger you would have loved the macabre - evil witches, plucked out eyes, soul-wrenching betrayal.

But in this new world, you couldn't bear it.

You got lost in the pages. The girl who fell in love with the Beast, who was not so monstrous after all. Another, who risked everything to dance with the Prince, only to abandon him at midnight when the spell was broken.

When you grew bored, you created your own tales. Princesses that were swept off their feet. Knight fighting dragons, a fluttering in your chest when you thought about the romance.

The twisting and twining of limbs and tongues, the slow build that lead into soft, contented sighs.

They became your comfort, as the days passed.

So similar - in ways - to the ones when you had been asleep. The same routines. Paste, read, sleep.

The same clothes - the blue and gold jumpsuit you had woken up in. That the others wore as well, in their sleep. Each one the same, with the vault’s number emblazoned across the back.

On your Pip Boy you read it was to protect you from the elements outside - but here, it only added to the monotony of your day.

Every variation of an afternoon you had done at least once. Poking into every corner of each room. Fingers tracing over the glass screen of the pods, watching your family sleep.

Reading the books again, and again. Using the bits you picked up to learn more about your Vault, what had happened.

It took you a solid month to key into the computer terminal in the main office. Clicking on different words in the scramble of letters that poured across the screen, trying to crack the password protection.

Getting frustrated and giving up - only to come back again the next day.

Finally, the beep as you were let in. Clicking through the files, piecing together a mess of text that was scattered across numerous logs over the years.

That you were in Vault 113. That it was created in partnership with several more, and a copy of the previous, 112.

That some of the Vaults were created to be an experiment. A test to see how humanity would fare, released in key waves after the Great War of 2077.

Held in a cryosleep stasis - the first to be opened at 25 years, and then at 50. Continuing every quarter-century until 225 years has passed. Ending with your vault, scheduled to be released last.

The dread settles in as you started to understand what they had meant when you woke up.

That you were early.

That all you can do is wait.

You don’t even know where you’d even start - no idea if they would fare as well as you did, to be woken up ahead of schedule.

And so, the days ticked by. The marks you scratched on the wall next to your bed slowly increasing. One for each morning you woke up, until there's 182 of them lined up in neat rows.

Finally - coming to the realization that had been nudging at you for days, for weeks. The one that had been keeping you up at night, though you wished for the unconsciousness of sleep.

That you can't sit around for 4 and a half more years, just waiting. That wasn't a life, any way to live.

That you'd go mad, talking to your Pip-Boy, the robots that only had a few lines of verbal programming.

You had to know, to see. To go out.

Into the world. Alone.

You'd watched the videos.

The short animated films. The cartoon boy with the vault suit like yours, as he explained life after the fallout. How it would be different - tips on survival, how to keep sharp, how to use your own experiences and talents to your advantage.

It helped, giving you an idea of what to expect, but you hated them. The little acronyms, the cheesy animation - they seemed to mock the massive loss from nuclear annihilation.

The grainy, black-and-white recordings you find, after.

Prepared and left by the Overseer that no longer stayed there - who passed on the responsibility to the robobrains that still stood watch, when another Vault position opened.

They had made you weep, to think about what happened. Until you chest ached and your eyes stung. You couldn’t watch some parts, thinking about all those who had not been able to get away. Unable to help wondering about your extended family - your friends.

But it still hadn't prepared you for how vast and cruel the Wasteland was.

It had taken you another two weeks to actually open the Vault door. Dragging your feet as you collected supplies. Trying to pack everything you'd need while also trying to leave plenty in case someone else woke as you did.

Canteens of water, extra vault suits. The pink mush spooned into glass jars, clinking in your backpack, as you checked the space another time.

Leaving a note on the terminal, where you hope they'd find it.

But eventually, you had to try. You'd stalled long enough.

And so, after marking the Vault’s location on your Pip-Boy - you left.

You’ve been out for a week now. That alone feels like an accomplishment.

Not expecting how barren the world would feel, even with the preparation. It mirrors the muted browns from your dreams, though there's no hazy edges here.

Just a broken landscape of trees - still standing, stripped bare and bleached by an unforgiving sun. Crumbling roads, and what little grass endured was burnt and brittle. The air dry and thick in your lungs with the dust that kicked up, as you had carefully left the vault.

Misfortune had befell you almost immediately.

Barely out of the crumpled building that held the Vault, down the worn asphalt path, when there had been a scuttling sound. Fear and bile in your throat when a roach the size of a cat crept from the ruins, poised to spring.

Unable to do more than to grasp at the ground, fingers wrapping around a solid bit of wood. You can still hear the crunch of collision when you close your eyes, before you took off running, not wanting to see the aftermath.

The petrified branch still sits by the door, just in case.

In the half-standing farmhouse you've set up base in, until you're brave enough to wander further. That has been unnerving as well - seeing places that were different from your memories.

You had gone home, first.

It had seemed natural, though the fear lingered in your stomach, making your steps heavy. Following the road for three miles, all the while trying to force the puzzle pieces to fit. Broken bridges over dead streams, street signs that lead to crumbling, empty lots.

The road you lived on had been hit hard. It had ached - nothing left but the skeletons of your life before. Tumbling brick and rotting plaster. Chipped tile and broken floors, creaking under your feet as you stood where the kitchen once was. Must like your life before, it was just - gone.

The sentimental part of you had rooted around. Finding a rusting, red bottle cap in the ruins. A silver spoon found in the shattered remains of the counter where you grew up baking cookies.

You took them both, tucking them into your bag.

The farm you had found next, late the first night. You had been there before as a child.

The owners opened their property for apple-picking, hayrides, bonfires with sweet, melting smores. It had been a memory you had forgotten, until the bit of still-standing roof appeared on the horizon, beckoning you to it.

You'd do anything to have more of them. The memories.

The owners are gone now, as is the orchard. Just rows of thin trunks left, the branches dead and brittle.

With the wasteland around you - so very different from the safe, metal walls, the honeycomb of simple rooms - you wish you had stayed.

But much like waking up, you knew you couldn't. That you couldn't undo what happened, or forget the things that haunt you now.

Now - you spend your days wandering out. Poking around the barn to see if there's anything to take with you.

Finding a bit of joy, in some small moments.

In your books, as they soothe you to sleep. The stories are long-memorized but still bringing such comfort.

In the funny, two-head cow that had half-scared you to death when you first found it - that you know think is sort of cute. Almost poetic, in a way.

She wanders the fields behind the barn, and sometimes you go out to sit with her - keeping watch from a distance.

In your Pip-Boy, with the radio that hums out tinny tunes throughout the day - there's only a few of them it picks up, the songs on loop.

Picking through the holotapes of data - finding out that your new friend is called a Brahmin, mutated after years of radiation. It’s not much, but it's something.

It gives you hope that there might be someone else out there. It gives you the strength to think about moving on.

And you do find them - a semblance of civilization - but not in the way you hope.

You’re sleeping when it happens. Curled up in a bedroom on the second story, trying to avoid the holes that litter the hardwood floors.

It’s barely morning, the sunrise a weak, watery yellow as it peeks over the ridge. Though with a start you realize it’s not the light that has woken you. That rarely made a difference, after your time in the Vault.

Too afraid of the dark to turn off the light.

It’s the bellowing.

At first, you don’t know why it makes your skin prickle. After all, Minnie made those sounds when she first saw you - snorting and pawing at the packed earth, both sets of eyes dark and wide. Slowly settling, in the hours after - when all you did was watch from behind the fence.

The pieces click into place.

There was something out there.

You’re just getting up to look, when you hear a wild shout. The sound echoing, followed by a sharp, echoing crack.

The bellowing stops.

Your gasp is loud in the silence. Hand pressing over your mouth as your heart thuds in your chest - aching. The floor beneath you creaking as sink down onto it, trying to make yourself small.

But the voices move closer. Different tones overlapping, arguing - from the open field, then to the barn.

Then, to the house.

Your breath in your throat as the front door bangs open, a sharp voice cracking through the air.

“-lay off the fuckin’ Jet, mate. You’re fuckin’ paranoid as hell.”

The floor creaking as they move through the living room. An annoyed grunt, the rattle as something metallic clatters to the floor, making your stomach flip.

“Told you man, I heard somethin’,” Another voice answers.

Your heart drums so loudly in your ears, you’re certain it has to be audible. Tucked underneath the window, in clear view of the staircase.

If you don’t move, they’ll see you. You’re certain of it. The videos had warned you of the lawlessness, but nothing could have compared you for the fear that paralyzes you.

But, you try to be brave. Three feet to the right and you should be safe - your heart in your throat as you shift your weight, to move just out of sight.

The floor groans.

The voices downstairs stop.

You bolt.

Feet like lead, disconnected from your brain as you make for the stairs - thinking you can make it out. Skipping steps at a time, hoping that you won’t fall and break your neck. Ankles aching as you hit the bottom, sights set on the door the left open.

Almost making it out, when there’s a shout. A sharp “fuckin’ knew it” that sounds entirely too close. A gloved hand that reaches out, snagging your elbow.

Sending you off balance, slamming into the brittle wall. Pain radiates from your hip, the wood splintering from the collision. The hand closing around your ankle, yanking you hard.

The man pulls again - dragging you to the side, through the open doorway.

You’re gasping for breath, trying to yell - though nothing comes out. The air knocked from your lungs as you’re tugged across the porch, one of the steps cracking against your head as you try to grasp onto the railing.

It splinters under your grip, one of the spindles breaking free. He lets go when you reach the bottom, calling up to the second that lingers in the doorway.

“Check inside. See if there’s any more.”

A foot pressing against your shoulder, pinning you to the ground as he leans down, barking out a harsh laugh.

“Thought you could hide?”

He’s even more terrifying up close. Dark paint smeared around his eyes, dripping down his cheeks like tears. Dressed in a mismatch of leather clothes, nails driven up through the fabric at the collar. A spiked shoulder pad made from bent metal, the sharp edges a deep, rusted red.

You take a deep breath… and then swing.

The makeshift weapon collides with the side of his head, and then shatters. With a loud yell he stumbles, and you scramble - pushing yourself onto shaking knees, and then feet.

“Goddamn bitch,” He snarls, and there’s footsteps from the house, calls coming from the barn.

You don’t make it to your feet before you’re looking down the barrel of a gun. Fear and a strangled whimper in your throat as you hover in a half-crouch, hands coming up to shield your face.

A shot fires.

There’s a bright red light that sears through your closed eyelids, the smell of something burning. You open them just in time to see the man pitch to the side, his body glowing with a heat you can feel. Disintegrating as you watch, turning to ash before he hits the ground.

You can barely hear the yell from the others, the sound of your heartbeat drowning the world out. Faintly aware of one cracking shot, and then another, a deep reverb echoing across the flat plane.

Rocks skittering on the ground around you, the tremor of heavy steps and sharp mechanical hisses. Loud cries and shots traded as you cower, unable to look away from the scorched earth where a person just was.

And then, everything goes quiet.

A shadow falls across you, and you’re looking up. Seeing the figure that’s crumpled against the stairs. The unmoving peppering of bodies littering the ground, out near the barn. Never making it any further.

Up, and then up - to where a giant suit of armor towers over you. Painted in shades of green that you thought you had forgotten. A long rifle tucked in the crook of its thick arm, the end a hot, steaming red.

It’s head tilts - as a low, mechanical voice breaks through the silence.

“Its dangerous to wander the wasteland alone, ad’ika.”

ad’ika - little one

thank you for reading! 💚 part ii will be out thursday, the 9th! and if you’d like to get tagged, please fill out the series taglist here!

(0-pressure tagging some friends that liked the sneak peek 💕: @spaceydragons, @luladoll, @obiknights , @wingofshadow , @bobathirstaccount, @reluctant-mandalore, @ohheyitsokay, @floral-force , @valentine-tx, @dreamlandcreations, @vellichormybeloved)

#please mind the tags! #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x f!reader #boba fett imagine #fallout au

[zprites]

TMNT All 4-1 Challenge

I kept debating on whether or not to participate but I loved all of the entries I've seen and felt compelled to write this.

The Gracious Hosts: @turtle-babe83, @thelaundrybitch, @leosgirl82, @tmnt-tychou, @nittleboo, and @post-apocalyptic-daydream

18+ and a little NSFW towards the end (maybe?)

I chose the pick up line prompt since I've had a few saved up for a Donnie x reader idea and what better time than now to use them. I edited as I wrote so if I did miss something, sorry in advance for any errors.

Is it bad? Probably. Am I proud of the Homestuck reference? Very. Did I expect Donnie's reaction myself? No, and I wrote the damn thing!

Rise! Donnie x F! Reader - All turtles and reader are over 20 years!!! Minors DNI!!

Shut Up.

So give me your two lips And baby, I'll shut up Shut Up - Greyson Chance

The lair around you was silent. With a huff you turned onto your stomach, clutching the pillow you were given close to your chest. The brothers allowed you to stay with them while your apartment building was being renovated after one of the tenets caused a kitchen fire so bad that it affected several floors. 

Although your back has grown stiff from sleeping on their couch for the past week, you were grateful for their hospitality. Splinter often kept to himself, spending much of his free time with Draxum in the Hidden City. Mikey enjoyed having an extra pair of hands that knew their way around a kitchen and Raph began teaching you a few self defense moves, in return you showed him the basics of yoga. Leo was just glad to have another person around with insomnia. The two of you often stayed up late to play video games, mostly Pokemon, as well as watching the newest season of the latest hype anime show. 

The only turtle seemingly upset of your extended stay for whatever reason was Donatello. It’s not that you two didn’t get along; quite the opposite actually. You were two peas in a pod. Almost inseparable. For almost the whole year you’ve known the brothers, the two of you spent countless nights working beside each other in the lab, you working on your novel while Donnie worked on upgrades or new inventions. He was the first and last person you talked to everyday. You shared your past with him, your dreams and fears. On the flip side he told you everything about his work and life. He even confided his insecurities to you one late night after a particularly rough run in with a mutant. You picked up some of each other’s hobbies, at least the ones you didn't already share, having a plethora of inside jokes. 

One of your fondest memories with him was when he took two whole weeks to play your favorite video game series, freaking out over every decision he was forced to make and insisting that you stayed with him the whole time. You couldn’t refuse him when he called you, practically begging you to come over while he rambled about the first hard choice he had to make. You packed a small duffel bag and hunkered down in his room with him for the entirety of those two weeks. 

Honestly, you were certain that you'd do anything he asked you to.

It was no secret that you harbored a massive crush on the resident genius, you realizing your feelings early on. His brothers knew. April knew. Splinter and Draxum knew. Hell even Hypno and Warren knew! The only person who didn’t was Donnie himself. 

It wasn’t for lack of trying. As soon as you came to terms with your crush you tried dropping hints to Donnie, but nothing seemed to work. Except one day, you took Leo’s advice several months back.

“If you were words on a page, you’d be what they call fine print.”

You almost regretted saying those words. Almost. 

Donatello was pushing himself in his chair throughout his workspace. Upon hearing your words he spun around a bit too carelessly. One of the chair wheels caught one of the many cables that littered his lab, resulting in his chair to tip sideways, sending him onto the floor. He quickly hid his face from your view but you were certain you saw a touch of pink on his cheeks.

Oh… That was something…

Suddenly the alarm sounded throughout the lair, informing the brothers that they were needed elsewhere. You stayed behind in Donnie’s lab once they all left, giddy that you finally got some kind of reaction from him.

However when they returned he acted as though nothing happened. But you didn’t let it get to you. For months you tried to get the same kind of response from him, saying one bad pick up line after another in hopes that he would take the hint.

“Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing.”

“You must be the square root of 2, because I feel irrational around you.”

“You seem to be traveling at the speed of light, because time always seems to stop when I look at you.”

“Are you made of Uranium? I’m made of Iodine! That explains why all I can see is U and I together.”

“If you were a bottle of Sprite, I’d obey my thirst.”

Each time he remained stoic, often responding to any pick up line in almost a literal sense, seemingly unaware of your poor attempts to elicit some kind of reaction from him. 

Frankly, you were beginning to grow annoyed. You didn’t know if he was playing dumb or just flat out rejecting you. His brothers encouraged you to keep trying. Mikey even let slip one day that Donnie has ‘that look’ about him when you’re brought up in conversation. 

Which brings you back to now. Unlike the others Donatello made himself scarce during the week you’ve been staying on their couch, finding any excuse to be where you weren’t. You thought back to the last pick up line you told, the first thing you said to him when you arrived at the lair for your stay. 

“I’m just hypothesizing, but I think that the reaction between you and me would be quite exothermic. Care to plot some data points?”

Donnie promptly turned around and walked back to his lab, not coming out until the following day. Since then he barely spoke more than a few words to you.

It hurt. 

Maybe it is pointless… 

You flipped dramatically onto your back, your legs twisting in the lightweight blanket Raph lent you. The dark expanse of the ceiling was all you saw, the quiet hum of the silence providing white noise as you bit your lip.

Fuck it.

Shoving the blanket off you stood up from the couch and walked towards the subway cars that served as the brother’s rooms. You soon arrived at Donatello’s car and knocked on the closed door. When you got no answer you let yourself in, the metal door sliding open with ease. His lab was locked, the irregular beat of techno music barely audible through the nearly impenetrable door. 

You steeled your nerves and placed your thumb on the fingerprint scanner that turned green, allowing you access into his lab. The door slid open and you quickly entered his lab, the door promptly shutting behind you. The music was much louder, reverberating off the metal walls.

Once you made it to the main part of his lab you saw him slumped over his desk. You smiled and shook your head. 

You made your way over and turned off the music from the computer console in front of him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He jumped slightly, waking up at the sudden lack of music and the feel of your hand. 

Once he realized it was you his body stiffened. “You should be sleeping.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re one to talk. I don’t know how you can sleep like that.” 

The two of you stayed like that for a short moment. You let your hand drop and bit the inside of your lip. It’s now or never… Just say how you feel…

“Um… Want to come back to my Quest Bed?” 

And you blew it… God, why did you listen to Leo in the first place?

Donnie frowned at you. “What…?”

Well you’re in too deep now… Might as well get this over with so you can die of embarrassment and he can continue ignoring you…

“My Quest Bed. I can help you reach God Tier…”

He stared at you with a neutral expression, unmoving. You had no idea what was going through his mind which only added to your nervousness. 

Finally he let out an amused breath before standing up. You watched his eyes shine in the purple light that filled the room. 

“So you want to put me to sleep, then kill me?” He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, the smallest hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. 

You licked your lips, catching the way his gaze shifted down to them before going back to your eyes. 

Oh…

Don’t fuck this up…

“Well, you know what they say about ‘la petite mort’.” 

Donnie’s eyes closed as he took a shaky breath. 

“You really are trying to kill me, huh?” His eyes focused on yours once more as he took a step forward, leaving only a few inches between the two of you. 

“For months, you’ve been testing my patience with all those dumb pick up lines… I thought you’d stop if I didn’t acknowledge them but you just kept at it…”

Your heart quickened as you realized the implication in his words.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me…?”

You chuckled a bit under your breath. Your soft chuckling soon turned into pure laughter which only confused him. “I’m sorry.” Your laugh died down as you gave him a large grin. “It’s just, out of all the pick up lines it was that one. Damnit…”

He huffed. “Shut up.”

You bit your lip with a smirk. “Make me.”

Before you could react Donnie grabbed your waist, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your head upwards, his lips finally meeting yours. You practically melted in his arms, letting out a soft moan as your hands laid flat against his plastron. 

All too soon he drew back. The hand under your chin moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lips. His dark eyes shone mischievously.

“Now, what did you say about reaching God Tier?”

It’s safe to say that the both of you got no sleep that night.

#TMNT All 4-1 Challenge #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #rise tmnt x reader #rise donnie x reader #donatello x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader

[akariamai]

Romeo & Juliet [Part 2]

Pairing: Jacob Black x OC!Swan

Word Count: 1616

Part 1 Part 3

Author's Note I changed a few things to better fit the story. Jacob will be a year younger than Bella. Bella's friends are semi-different than how they are portrayed in the books/movies. Sam and Leah were never in a relationship. Imprinting on children is not a thing. Hope you enjoy the story and sorry it took so long to write the second part of this.

~~~

Sloan and her sister used to be best friends. They were two peas in a pod, but ever since the move to Forks, her strange fascination with the Cullen boy, and the start of her relationship with Edward, their relationship has dwindled.

Bella became more distant and secretive. Sloan understood that a relationship meant change and less time for the two of them, but she didn’t think the relationship would take priority over everything. Bella was in love, that was certain, but she left no time for friends or family. Edward was her world. There was no place for anyone else. Not their dad, their mother, Sloan, or even herself.

Sloan did miss the relationship they used to have. Tranquil car rides to school, mindless arguments over their favorite classic literature, and the late-night talks they used to have. Sloan never realized how meaningful those things used to be until they were gone. It all went away as soon as Edward came into their lives.

Their eighteenth birthday came and went, and Bella was more frantic than ever. The reason? Sloan had no clue. Sloan didn’t know much about Bella these days. She does know Bella was quiet after her birthday party at the Cullen’s house. Something happened, and whatever it was rocked Bella. The days that followed were marked by an absence of the Cullen family, and it barely went unnoticed by everyone except Bella. Bella felt lost without them, but most importantly Edward. Unfortunately for Sloan and her father, they would both come to realize the extent of Bella’s dependence of the Cullens.

Sloan tried to be empathetic towards her sister. She had never been through a breakup herself, but normal heartache does not leave a person lifeless and empty. She had imagined how their first heartbreak would entail, watching sappy romance movies and eating ridiculous amounts of ice cream, it was nothing like this. She had never imagined a boy would leave her sister like a lifeless doll.

Bella would mindlessly stare out her window, day in and day out, as if waiting for Edward to save her from her isolation. It was a lost cause, however, as he and his family moved away and Bella was left with the memories of what once was.

Every night in the Swan’s residence is plagued with the screams of her sister. A good night’s rest was a luxury now and both Sloan and her father felt the effects of the lack of sleep.

“Bella.” Sloan began as she found her sister in the same place as when she left her. “Do you want to go hang out with our friends? We’re going to La Push again. They miss you.” Bella had completely shut down after the breakup. She resembled a lifeless doll waiting for a child to find it and play with it. She spent her days waiting for Edward to come back.

“I miss him.” Her voice was barely a croak. Her lips bleeding slightly as she had not drank the water Sloan had left on her desk.

Sloan sighed. Edward was not worth this. “This isn’t normal, Bella. You need help.” She’ll need to bring up therapy to her father. Bella couldn’t keep living this this. Maybe a change a scenery would be helpful as well.

“I need him.”

“No you don’t.” Bella liked to believe in soulmates. It was a frequent topic of arguments between the two. She believes there is one person for everyone and finding that person is magical and sacred. Sloan should’ve known that Bella would’ve considered Edward as hers.

Sloan didn’t believe in soulmates. The idea that out of thousands of people there is only one that is just right. That seems implausible. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Bella stayed silent. Sloan walked out of Bella’s room silently, closing the door on her way out.

~~~

“How’s Bella?” Mike asked as they unloaded the cooler filled with refreshments. Eric and Jessica went ahead and found a respectable spot, while Angela went to snap a few pictures of the ocean waves.

“Not good.” Sloan mentions. “I don’t think staying in Forks is helping either. Maybe there’s too many memories of him.”

“He really messed her up, didn’t he?” Mike has never seen anyone take a breakup as hard as Bella. He had seen tears split over the loss of a relationship or an occasional screaming match between old lovers, but never something like that.

It made him reevaluate the relationship between Bella and Edward. They were too attached. Too obsessed with each other.

He remembered a conversation he’d had with Bella when her newfound relationship became public. He warned her about the way Edward watched her, as if he were a lion eyeing his prey. It may have come off as disdain. He had liked Bella before Edward dug his claws into her, and maybe the disdain part was true to some extent, but Bella had to know the way Edward stalked her when she wasn’t looking. If only he had voiced his observations more.

Sloan nodded. She really needed to have a conversation with her father. Bella needs help that they are not qualified to give. Mike and Sloan went silent as they carried the cooler to the beach. Jessica and Eric had placed the inflatable pools in a half circle. All three of the inflatable pools were heart-shaped. Angela thought it would be a better idea than bringing a beach blanket.

They watched the waves crash onto the beach as they spoke about their aspirations for the future. High school was coming to an end. Much faster than any of them had anticipated. There was a whole world outside of their small town. Were they ready? Were they prepared? They had no clue, but they’ll take it one step at a time.

The group of friends didn’t see the sulking boy wander closer towards them. The conversation ended abruptly as a familiar name was called out: “Sloan?”

They all turned to the boy. “Jacob?” Sloan hadn’t spoken to Jacob since he and his father came to watch the game with her dad. They were both busy with friends and school. They hadn’t found time for each other. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

“Do you want to join?” Sloan offered, “We were just about to crack open a few soda cans and talk about our deepest, darkest secrets.”

The others laughed, and even Jacob cracked a smile. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Not imposing if you’re invited.” Mike chimed in.

“Come on.” Sloan motioned for Jacob to join her. “We brought extra, and it would be rude if you didn’t help us finish our snacks.”

Jacob joined her awkwardly, snacking on the chocolate-covered strawberry Sloan offered him.

“We were just talking about summer plans. Do you have anything planned yet?” Summer was months away, and their graduation was on the horizon. They wanted to do something memorable and fun.

“Not yet.” He admitted. He would probably do the same things as always. Hang out with Embry and Quil, and take care of his father.

“We were thinking about planning a road trip after graduation.” Angela said, “Would you like to join? We wouldn’t want Sloan to be the fifth wheel.”

Jacob was taken aback by the invitation. They didn’t know him on a personal level, and yet they were so kind to him. It might’ve had something to do with him being friends with Sloan.

“Yeah, you should come, man.” Eric said.

“It’ll be fun.” Jessica replied.

Jacob didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe?” He needed time to think.

“When we come up with a game plan, we’ll let you know, and then you can decide.” Sloan placed her hand on his shoulder. “There’s no rush.”

Jacob nodded before the conversation shifted once again. Sloan’s friends were nice. They made him feel welcomed. They included him in their conversations, even when he had little to say.

As the day turned to night, the group of friends plus one started packing their things. “See you at school, Sloan.” Jessica waved goodbye as she entered Mike’s car. “It was nice meeting you, Jacob.”

Jacob nodded. “You too.”

“Let me know when you make it back home, Sloan.” Mike said.

“I will.” She replied as she and Jacob entered her car. They watched as her friends drove off.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She interjected.

Jacob began, “I have this friend—well, I had a friend—Sam, and he disappeared for a while. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. He didn’t call anyone to tell us if he was okay. He came back today, and it was like he was a complete stranger. I could barely recognize him.”

“We’ve known each other all our lives, and he changed so suddenly. He said it would be best if we weren’t friends anymore. That it was 'safer' for me to stay away. What does that mean? Is he in trouble? I want to be there for him. Why doesn’t he want me to be there for him?”

“Jacob,” Sloan said, reaching for his hand and gently rubbing it. “Sometimes people want to get through their problems alone. It has nothing to do with you, but more with him. Maybe he feels like a burden and doesn’t want to pile his problems on you. Maybe he needs to take some time for himself—find himself. Maybe one day he’ll explain everything once the dust settles.”

“I just want to be there for my friend.” He says, “I never thought we would go on without each other.”

Masterlist

#jacob black #twilight angela #twilight eric #the twilight saga #twilight saga #original character #oc!swan #twilight mike #twilight jessica #jacob black x reader #twilight bella #bella swan #edward cullen #twilight edward #twilight fanfiction #Twilight fanfic #twilight oneshot

[hugsandchaos]

Just incase; Neo is Swap N, T is Swap Thad, K is Swap Khan, and U is Swap Uzi (might change it to Z or U-Z)

Neo yawned and stretched all four of his limbs out, making sure to move his legs at a downward angle so he wouldn’t push the floor or hit what he assumed was once the controls of the pod. He let himself slump down in the chair for a quick second before blinking and sitting back up, refocusing on the task at hand. Looking at his history book, Neo struggled for a second to figure out where he was before he caught himself drifting off to sleep.

Once he found it again, he forced his tired mind to focus on the contents and propped his head on his left hand. It felt like his brain was turning into mush with how tired he was.

At first, Neo tried to just absorb the words, then understand the sentences. He’s spent multiple years staying up late studying, and the only difference now was where he was, which was inside the pod belonging to his murder drone friends, T, K, and U.

Neo decided to give studying here a try, to see if the cold would help keep himself awake while studying. It did, but it also made a small part of his mind, the part that humans refer to as the “unconscious” part of the mind since things would go on without realizing, think of going back to the bunker to get nice and cozy under his blanket in his bed and finally letting go of every last bit of stress Neo felt. As the night progressed to 11:23PM, he grew more and more tired and the thought grew more tempting. At least the howling wind made for some nice background sounds.

“Neo?” T piped up.

Neo was startled into wakefulness and shot his head up, not realizing he was beginning to fall back asleep again. He looked over at U’s squad mate, T, who was by far probably the chillest drone Neo has ever met. He was surprisingly okay with the new change of plans, mostly because he didn’t want to keep killing and instead wanted to be able to play with multiple drones.

He looked a little concerned and very confused as he looked at Neo from the doorway.“What are you doing up? I thought worker drones slept at this hour.” T asked. He wiped the oil off his face, presumably from a disembodied arm or some other dead worker drone part. They could get oil just fine from those. For a few seconds, Neo’s head felt slightly less like confused mush.”Unless they cover night shifts or they’re just busy.” Neo replied with a light chuckle.

He turned back to his book and the “confused mush” feeling came back.“Aren’t you tired?” T asked. Neo shrugged and went to the next paragraph, not paying much attention to his friend, which was very unlike himself. But he needed to study.

Just because he’s one step closer to annihilating the human race doesn’t mean he can slack off. Especially if he didn’t want to give pretty much everyone in the colony another reason to dislike him.“Not the first all-nighter I’ve pulled, and something tells me it won’t be the last.” Neo silently brushed his concerns off and tried to go back to studying, but T wasn’t going to give up.

He walked over to the chair his worker drone friend was sitting in and put a hand on the back of the chair.“Come on, let’s put the books away and get you back to the bunker, you look exhausted.” T said. Neo didn’t even look up from the texts he could barely focus on with how exhausted he felt.”No.” He said, sounding just as tired and frustrated as he felt without realizing. He didn’t notice, though.

T stared at him surprised for a bit, not having heard that tone from him before, but pulled himself back together really quickly and opened his mouth to speak again as Neo struggled to keep his eyes open and stay focused.“One more question; When’s the last time you slept?” T asked. That question made Neo stop reading and sit up. He hasn’t thought much about the fact that sometimes his visor shows what humans call “bags under the eyes”, which is a sign of lack of sleep.

T waited for an answer, but it was pretty clear by the ten seconds of thinking that the answer was too long.“Uhh, two nights ago maybe? I think I got around 3 hours of sleep? Doesn’t matter.” He said, waving dismissively at the end of his response. He once again tried to focus on the texts, but his chair was suddenly turned around.“That’s it.” T said. He grabbed his short friend and picked him up like he was a doll, but being picked up wasn’t what woke Neo up.

When T picked him up, he scooped him up underneath his arms, which for a split second reminded Neo of those few times he was tickled in the past. He was always more tickle-sensitive than most worker drones, even now, but tickling isn’t exactly an activity for worker drones since so few are actually ticklish. Neo tensed up for a second, pulling his legs and arms up in defense. He calmed back down just as quickly when he realized that this was not going to turn into a game and remembered that he had to get back to studying.

Judging by T’s confused expression, though, it might be a bit too late.

“Wait a minute...” He muttered. He squinted his eyes at Neo, who was getting a little nervous. T gave him a gentle squeeze, making him almost laugh, but Neo refused to let himself do that and it only came out as a muffled snicker. T tilted his head slightly in confusion and raised an eyebrow, but then his eyes widened in realization and his face lit up.”No way!” He exclaimed in disbelief. He began tickling Neo under the arms, which got him laughing and kicking in only a few seconds.

“Wahahahahait! Teeheehee! Nohohohoho!” He laughed. T grinned mischievously and kept him in the air as he tickled him. No ground equals no traction, and no traction equals no chance of running away. Not that T wouldn’t be able to catch up to him. He just didn’t want to chance it.

T used his tail to hold Neo’s legs in place so he wouldn’t kick him and smiled.”Since when are you ticklish?” T asked. Before Neo could respond, U came sprinting into the pod.”What’s this I hear about Neo being ticklish?!” She asked, jumping onto a box like a gremlin.

Neo once helped T tickle her to cheer her up, but they assumed he wasn’t ticklish since as far as they know, worker drones aren’t ticklish. So if she could get her revenge by giving him the same treatment she was put through, there was no way she wouldn’t pass that chance up, and both T and Neo knew that.

“Ihihihi am nohohot!” Neo lied. U grinned mischievously and walked up to them.

“Oh, really? Then this won’t bother you?” U asked, joining in on the attack and going for his belly.”NOHOHOHOHO!! HAHAHAHAHA!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Neo laughed. T raised an eyebrow and jerked his head downwards to signal U to help him set Neo on the ground.

T unwrapped his tail from around Neo’s legs and the two sat down, still not letting up on their attack. T was able to grab both of Neo’s wrists and keep his arms up.”We’re going to keep doing this until you agree to get some sleep.” He said, using his hands to tickle Neo. U looked at him almost offended and stopped helping T .“Wait, what? But I want my revenge!” She complained.

“He hasn’t slept in two days. I’m just doing this to tire him out.” T explained. U blinked and looked at Neo in slight disbelief.”Juhuhust lehet mehehehe wohohork!” He said, but neither were about to do that.

Not when he had been coming by and staying for quite some time to work on the pod.“You know what? Your plan is better, T.” U agreed. She moved Neo’s coat just enough to expose his belly and took in a deep breath. Neo squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself, but he was ultimately unprepared. It tickled a lot more than he thought it would.”HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!” He tried again to escape, but given how much stronger his disassembly drone friends were, he had no chance of escaping. Except for one, but he wasn’t going to give in. He had work to do, no matter how tired he is or how much it tickled.”STOHOHOHOHOP!!” He said. U blew another raspberry and briefly sent him back into hysterics.

T shook his head.”There’s only one way out, Neo. Just agree to go to sleep and we’ll stop.” He said, but the worker drone still refused.”Okay, we don’t mind carrying this out for a while.” T said.

“ALRIHIHIGHT!!! IHIHI GIHIHIVE UP!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!” Neo finally surrendered after three minutes and his friends immediately stopped and let go. Neo slumped onto the floor to catch his breath and T chuckled.”Maybe we went a bit too far?” He asked, not sure if it was them or Neo who had pushed him to this point of exhaustion. U shook her head.”I think he’s fine.” She said.

It took them ten minutes to realize Neo had fallen asleep on the floor and two more to find a tarp that could be used as a sleeping bag for him.

#murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones thad #murder drones uzi #md uzi #md n #md Thad #swap murder drones #murder drones swap uzi #murder drones swap n #murder drones swap au #murder drones swap Thad #murder drones tickles

[all-my-writings-and-musings]

Hello! I heard your requests where open and i was wondering if you could write headcannons for Syntax and Red Son with an S/O that has insomnia and has trouble sleeping?

I wasn't sure which charactrs you write for but if you dont want to do either character for any reason thats ok!

Absolutely! I adore those two, but I went with Syntax because spider boy needs more love. I actually can't think of any LMK characters I don't like to write though, so don't worry about dropping any of them in my ask box!

Syntax x Reader

He's always been one to sleep at odd hours due to his constant tinkering, so he's often up while you're trying and failing to get some sleep. Initially he enjoyed the company in the early hours of the morning and took the opportunity to go on about all of his work, but it quickly becomes apparent that you're not getting the rest you need and he puts all of his considerable brainpower into finding a solution.

His initial ideas are equal parts technologically advanced and outrageous. Have you considered a microchip in the part of your brain that regulates sleep? What about a pillow that releases regular doses of knockout gas? Perhaps a stasis pod in place of a bed? Of course you appreciate the effort, but have to explain that you just want to get a solid eight hours of sleep without having to worry about blowing a fuse in the middle of the night.

He'll keep searching for technological solutions if only because he thinks they're all he has to offer. Being part spider and robot makes him certain he isn't going to be much help with a softer approach, so he does his absolute best to find a solution with what he's good at. Eventually the search starts cutting into his own sleep as he grows ever more desperate each time he sees you struggling with exhaustion, and you quickly notice you're not the only one missing out on much needed rest.

When you approach him to express your gratitude but ask that he stop for his own sake, he expresses a burst of frustration at his own apparent inadequacy. He's a scientist, and this problem must have a scientific solution, so what good is he to you if he can't find it? He's not entirely convinced when you assure him that it's hardly his fault, and that you're fine so long as he's there... To help prove you mean it, you visit him in his workshop during your next sleepless night and say you want nothing more than to just spend time in his presence. If you're going to be awake, you want to be with him, you explain. He reluctantly accepts, and continues to tinker in silence while you chill off to the side.

Imagine his surprise when he finds you fully unconscious within minutes, curled up on his work desk and sleeping like an absolute rock. It takes him an exceptionally long amount of time to realize you were finally comfortable enough to sleep only because he was near, and from then on your bed more or less moves to his workshop. It doesn't matter what crazy technology he works on or how loud it gets as long as he's near. You'll occasionally wake to find extra blankets laid lovingly over you or additional pillows tucked about your body for comfort, but he never acknowledges where they came from.

#lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #lmk x reader #self insert #human reader #lmk syntax #syntax x reader #journey to the west #jttw #lmk headcanon #syntax lmk

[entirely-infinite]

༄ Simple Interference ༄

ACT Ⅱ ◦ FAMILIARITY

Act Synopsis: With the involvement of those closest, Ao’nung is left to reflect on the events that had led to his predicament.

Warnings: Family arguments [although brief]. Additional Information: Word count ～ 4.3k , conflict amongst family and friends , self-imposed isolation and exclusion , author’s note is below the ‘Read more’. Na’vi Glossary: olo’eyktan ～ clan leader , tsahìk ～ shamanic matriach , uturu ～ sanctuary , sempul | sa’nok ～ father | mother

return ～ [ACT Ⅰ] previous ～ next [ACT Ⅲ]

Author’s note: I am extremely relieved with how the formatting works in HTML, and I am growing more comfortable with using Tumblr as a place for my writings to be posted. Again, Na’vi is still in use; translations will provided, as always.

“You test my patience, you foolish boy!” Ronal’s voice rang throughout the marui with her son standing in the centre, his return from the ocean being the very reason why the Tsahìk’s voice was raised. His father had his arms crossed, staring down at Ao’nung who kept his head lowered.

It’s late. Ao’nung began tuning out his mother’s voice, bit by bit, the longer she reprimanded him. And yet, they’d rather discipline now instead of tomorrow. He was growing irritated, though he tucked it out of sight as his mother’s scolding came to a close. 

The silence did not remain for long, seeing that his father’s voice was coolly inserting himself into the matter. Thankfully, the Metkayinan male was not greeted with more yelling. 

“Do you understand, boy?” Tonowari’s firm tone was quick to receive a stiff nod from Ao’nung. 

“We wish that—” A hiss escapes his wife’s lips at his passive choice of words, swaying him to change his wording. “We want you to acknowledge the already pressing fact that you are to be the future Olo’eyktan of this Clan. To have you act so carelessly is—” Tonowari faces his wife with an expectant expression, to which she adds onto it with little hesitation. 

“—humiliating. You knew the curfew that we had set. And yet, you deliberately disobeyed us. Do you know how worried we were for you? It is taking every fibre of my patience to not punish you right this instant.” With that, Ronal momentarily left the marui to calm herself. Tonowari’s stern posture relaxed slightly, his eyes softening as Ao’nung met his gaze once he lifted his head.

Not much was said between the two despite the unspoken words that filled the air within the marui. And instead, Tonowari turns to end the night altogether.

“Sleep, boy. We will talk about your punishment tomorrow.” 

Another nod now, Ao’nung retreated to the safety of slumber, his father leaving the marui to converse with his wife right after.

∙∼∶∽∙

“You are forbidden to hunt with your designated hunting party for the next two weeks. You are expected to assist your sister with her chores during this duration.”

Those were the orders of the Olo’eyktan, and it was final. 

With annoyance that matched the commanding tone of Tonowari, his son begrudgingly accepted his punishment. He followed Tsireya once they had finished eating breakfast, Ronal eying his every move until he left the pod.

Well, I can’t say that I didn’t deserve this. Ao’nung huffed under his breath, seating himself at the dock that was near his family’s marui. He began preparing the leaves that they are to use to weave new baskets. He wanted to get a headstart in making them, just from estimating the amount of leaves his sister collected,

It’s only enough to make a few baskets, maybe eight at best.

For any passerby of the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk’s marui, they could hear their eldest groan in frustration. The chores were boring, menial at best and yet, a further aid to his budding dissatisfaction.

He wanted to go against his father’s words, but he bit back the unnecessary pettiness that bubbled in his stomach. With the additional eyes of his parents, the Metkayinan male recognised that he had to be careful and as you mentioned to him before, lest we wish to worry our parents more.

Well, those words were also useful in this context too. He thought.

“So..” Tsireya spoke all of a sudden. She had seated herself on the dock by the marui, a few feet away from Ao’nung as her tail curled by her side. “Are we going to talk about what you were doing? One moment you were being scolded by sempul and sa’nok for being reckless—the next you were gone. Just what were you doing?”

Ao’nung rolled his eyes at her words, staring at the basket that he was beginning to weave. It took a few minutes and his fingers twisting the leaf before he answered.

“Well, are you going to tell them?” Ao’nung asked plainly, his eyes narrowing at his sister—assuming her sudden prying of the topic was to gather information for mother. Ao’nung relaxes once she shakes her head, looking back at the basket in his hand.

“I met up with someone when I left the marui. They’re…” Ao’nung chooses not to blame you, especially since last night. It felt wrong to do so, strangely enough. “...good company. I lost track of time, returned home and… you know the rest.”

Tsireya perked up at this mention of another individual that was with Ao’nung. She assumed that he was still being selective with the information he will be sharing with her, in fear of getting the other individual in trouble as well.

“So, you and Rotxo went out swimming past Eclipse? Is that it?” She asked, curiosity peeking through those doe eyes.

“I wasn’t with Rotxo.”

She pauses in her own weaving, making direct eye contact with her older brother as soon as the words left his lips.

“You were out with another?” Tsireya asks rhetorically, before gasping out in an incredulous tone as soon as the words had fully sunken in. The silence from the Metkayinan male was deafening, the lack of words filling in for answers that she had in mind. “This—Brother. I’m so happy for you.” She whispers, a gentle smile over her features.

What? He stares back at Tsireya, an incredulous look present on his face. What was she talking about? Was she not angry with him?

“Tell me about them! Are they anybody we know in the clan? Oh, what about…” Thus began the many questions that formed in Tsireya’s mind, Ao’nung mentally preparing himself for more. He decided to answer the first few that she had.

“No, they aren’t. They’re from a different clan, and… we met by coincidence, alright? They’re a hunter-gatherer—” He sees the disbelieving look on Tsireya’s face, her eyes privy for more answers. “—You might ask how I knew that… Well, they were asking me for advice on the best spots to get the most out of a hunt..” Ao’nung was responding to each question, focusing on the basket that he was weaving to pass the time for questioning as quickly as he could, not really wanting to linger on the answers for too long. 

“Are you going to introduce them to me? Does Rotxo know about them? How long have you—” Ao’nung felt exasperated, not understanding the point of her knowing so much. He answers promptly, setting down the now finished basket before picking up more leaf—his hands skillfully weaving yet another basket in the process. 

He wondered about you once he began ignoring his sister’s questions—she thankfully kept quiet after sensing his uneasiness—as he stared out at the ocean, watching the waves tide over one another; the scene reminding him of last night, of the time when he parted from the island.

From you.

Speaking of you, Ao’nung couldn’t help but form his own set of questions regarding you. Your interference had influenced this curiosity that began to burn in the very pit of his chest, his mind sprouting thoughts as if it were a thriving fruit tree. Many questions came forward, dangling themselves from the branches for his hands to pick and ask. 

Were you doing your duties right now, at this moment? What was it like at the Nekehanga Clan? Were you busy with your chores and tasks, just like he was?

Did you get back home safe?

Worry pangs in his chest as he wondered more about you, and this predicament he was in—a clear consequence formed from his own actions.

Did you get punished too, for staying out so late? 

Ao’nung couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of guilt for you despite not really knowing why he felt so, as strange as it was. 

He couldn’t understand the reason as to why he felt as strongly as he did; you were some Na’vi that was from a neighbouring clan who took it upon themselves to talk with him, crawling into the separate life he had away from his own—one that he had hidden away in place for his current position in the Metkayina Clan.

With you, he had relieved himself of all responsibility and frustration he had accumulated some way or another. By the end of his time there on that island, he found himself a lot more relief in that sense.

Here, he was seen as the eldest son, set to be the next Olo’eyktan once he completed his Iknimaya. The thought was daunting, really. To think that the role of such a high position and calibre would be bestowed upon him, someone who was as mischievous as a teenaged Na’vi could be. The reminder dampened his mood significantly.

Tsireya took notice of her older brother’s change in demeanour. It wasn’t the first time she had seen a look of genuine worry overtake anybody—she had seen it with her own eyes before and comforted those, but not once had she seen such an expression on her brother. He looked… lost, lacking any semblance of that self-assuring confidence he usually had. The sight unnerved her, truly.

“Brother…”

“What is it?” His voice sounded exhausted, an annoyance clawing its way back up his throat and in his voice. What could he do to get Tsireya to back off and stop pestering him with the many questions she had?

She most likely didn’t even care about what he said, maybe she could use this information as leverage. There had to be a fine line where she would stop caring. There was no—

“Are you planning to meet them again?”

What?

“I see it in your eyes. This person was of great help to you, yes?” Tsireya notes, her attention unmoving from the basket she was focusing on. She doesn’t feel like seeing into her brother’s eyes, not wanting to meet those lost eyes with her own. Personally, she did not feel ready to see it again.

Minutes later, a soft grunt sounded. It was all that Tsireya needed to continue her statement.

“I’ll try to work something out for you, brother.” She could feel a piercing stare now, which was unlike anything she had expected from Ao’nung. 

A shiver ran down her spine, forcing her to contemplate if she had chosen the wrong set of words to voice her desire to help her brother.

Silence.

It had the Metkayinan girl fidget with her basket nervously, determined to keep her attention on her weaving instead of facing the possible wrath incurred by her older brother.

It was so, so deafening. 

Until it wasn’t.

[...Thanks, sister.] “...Irayo, ma tsmuke.”

Tsireya let out a breath of relief, one that she had unknowingly kept holding onto as she waited Ao’nung’s response to her promised solution.

[... , brother] “Anytime, ma tsmukan.”

She felt herself smile, the silence that returned no longer as uncomfortable as it was.

✤

It had been nearly a week since the punishment was put into effect.

Ao’nung was with Rotxo this time around, whittling a piece of wood to form it into the shape of an ilu. Seeing the carved aquatic creature reminded him of  his own ilu, enjoying the freedom he had as he rode through the waves.

He set the carving down, picking up another piece as he listened to Rotxo’s recounts of their hunt—providing the other Metkayinan male what he had missed out on.

It should have made him feel envious of the activities that were done without him.

Good on them for improving their skills—ones that he had already learned much earlier than them. 

“Ma Ao’nung?” Rotxo called out to his close friend, setting down the ilu sculpture he had finished perfecting. His tail was swaying gently from side to side, ears lowering as he gauged out the expression on Ao’nung’s face.

Good on them, for he does not care.

“Yeah?” A noise of acknowledgement was all Ao’nung gave.

Not one bit.

[Um... Sorry, ... ] “Ìì… Do you have something on your mind? Ngaytxoa, if I annoyed you with the activities you had missed… I know you do not like being left ou—”

Strangely enough, Ao’nung couldn’t find it within himself to care about what Rotxo did with their friends.

[—No.] “—Kehe. I am not bothered by that.” Ao’nung hissed, whittling the wood. His skillful carving began shaping the wood piece into one that resembled a tsurak.

“What is it, then?” Rotxo asks, setting his dagger by his side as he stares at his friend. Ao’nung set his unfinished sculpture beside him. A huff escapes his chest as he exhales, his tail curling around his leg as he takes a few minutes thinking through what he will say next.

And thus, he began unveiling his encounters with you, reliving the memory more, little by little—despite it being as short as they were, save for his most recent meeting—the reason as to why he was enduring punishment.

He didn’t mind it either, seeming to readily accept this consequence—which was uncharacteristic of the chief’s son. Rotxo stared at Ao’nung, his ears slightly lowered as he attempted to peel away the words that had been uttered by his friend. The words he spoke were of the truth—they have been good friends to know when the other is lying, or not—but the truth seemed to be far more peculiar than anticipated.

On one hand, Rotxo was willing to believe his friend and his encounter—accepting it as well. This was great, Ao’nung finding solace in an island and someone where he would express himself freely instead of lashing out on the other Na’vi. He feels glad that Ao’nung has a healthy coping mechanism to battle with the ever growing pressure that has been placed onto his shoulders.

“Was the reason as to why you’ve been punished by the Olo’eyktan because of…” Rotxo’s voice trailed off, finding no need to add more words that what was already known.

…On the other hand, Rotxo couldn’t help but feel that he had been partially set aside by Ao’nung. When there was the other mention of this other Na’vi. ___. How could you reach him as easily as you did? Last he recalled, Ao’nung did not seem to be the type to let others in as easily… This was coming from a supposed exception to that. The same goes for the island that Ao’nung found on his own, without telling Rotxo.

[Yes, Rotxo.] “Sran, ma Rotxo. I came back later than intended that night. I.. guess I lost track of time with them.” Ao’nung responded, his gaze unmoving from focusing on the ocean waves. He lifted up his wooden tsurak, continuing to carve into the sculpture with his dagger, fine tuning the details.

Rotxo stares at Ao’nung, seemingly at a loss for words. He never had an experience that was palatable—or even similar to what Ao’nung had gone through in the past few weeks. 

“Wait, you mentioned that you had made an arrangement with them—It’s already been a week.” He pointed out, concern present in his voice. Ao’nung stares at his friend, an unreadable expression present on his face as Rotxo’s words sink in for him.

The routine. You have waited for me before.

Ao’nung’s grip on the tsurak tightened, his expression morphing into one of genuine guilt.

You must be waiting for me right now.

“I’ll go visit them when this punishment is over. Sa’nok and sempul are already quite relaxed with their punishment for me being just this.” He answered, exhaling a sharp breath he had through his nose. 

“Hopefully they’re okay with it.” Ao’nung added, his finger on the blade a lot more precise as his initial worry dissipates.

Rotxo nodded at his words, lifting his ilu sculpture once again as he focused on his own carving once more. There weren't any words to be said in mind, nor was there any time for him to think of any particularly new questions with the sound of a horn blaring throughout the island of Awa’atlu.

Both of their ears perk up at the noise, the two setting their sculptures on the rock they had been seated upon. Ao’nung’s eyes focused on the flying beasts that flew overhead, as they landed on the beach shore—the central area for duties by the Metkayinan people.

[Let’s go.] “Kivä ko.” Ao’nung nudges Rotxo, getting off the rock as they both headed toward the direction of where the banshee landed—where they are met with the sight of strangers who stood on their land.

Forest Na’vi, it seems. What are they doing here?

They both neared the gaggle of Na’vi who dismounted from their beasts. Ao’nung moved past the crowd, his gaze judgmental and piercing. His eyes were trained on the two male Na’vi who greeted him silently, Rotxo following behind as he took in the features of the new arrivals.

“Look, what is that?” Ao’nung was elbowed slightly, his attention shifts from staring down at the two males to wherever it was that Rotxo was fixated on.

“Is that supposed to be a tail?” A tease left Rotxo as he pointed out a physical difference between the newcomers. His comment did not go unnoticed as the Metkayina nearby laughed, finding humour in his words. Ao’nung found it amusing as well, smirking to himself as they circled the group until they were a few metres away behind them . Tsireya arrived, and the teasing from Rotxo stopped as she lightly smacked his arm.

He bit back his sharp tongue, keeping quiet as his parents approached the group now; his father first, then his mother right after.

“Why do you come to us, Jake Sully?” He hears Tonowari ask, though the tone in his voice made the question come off similarly to a demand to know, rather than a consensual request.

He stared at the arrivals blankly, standing in his place beside his parents as he blocked out the conversation that formed between the two leaders. Ao’nung figured that they were passing by and needed to stock up on supply. 

That was until he heard the words that were uttered from who he supposed was the leader of the group. He hated how his intuition was wrong, with him now learning of the real reason as to why they were here.

To seek uturu. Sanctuary to live amongst the Metkayina, the reef folk, despite being one of forest Na’vi.

“We are reef people. You are forest people. Your skills will mean nothing here.”

“We will learn your ways, right?” Jake Sully turns to the woman beside him that Ao’nung supposed was his mate. She seemed uncomfortable, especially after Ronal lifted her tail to briefly examine it.

Ao’nung personally believed that they were foolish to come to the reefs for solace.

He watched his mother listen to their plea, circling the group slowly as if it were an akula with already wounded prey within the depths of the reef. Ronal began to examine the features of the group, her sharpened gaze unwavering and unmoved despite seeing how the children were intimidated by her.

“Their arms are thin.”

“Their tails are weak.” 

“You will be slow in the water.”

Ronal concluded honestly, her gaze now falling upon the girl’s hands. Ao’nung only then saw what his mother saw as she lifted them up, the hands not of the People.

Rather, they belonged to those of the sky demons.

“These children are not even true Na’vi—”

“Yes, we are.” The girl attempted to interject, her hands moving back to grip her woven shawl tightly with her teeth gritted. As Ao’nung expected, his mother ignored her, turning to one of the Na’vi males—the one who attempted to greet his sister—as she, too, lifted his hand for all to see.

Another five. Four fingers and a thumb.

“—They have demon blood!”

The clan erupted in a mixed cacophony of horror and disbelief, many backing away from the group now. Parents tugged their children a little closer to their figure, mothers assuming a protective stance as they watched the group’s leader attempt to reason with the heads of the Metkayina Clan. Ao’nung desired to drown out the conversation, feeling annoyance beginning to singe within the very pit of his stomach, though he kept listening.

“—but we Metkayina, are not at war.”

“We cannot let you bring your war here.” Tonowari responds, facing Jake Sully as he stands his ground, awaiting for the other leader’s response.

“I’m done with war. Okay? I just want to keep my family safe.” 

He took note of how his parents looked at each other, the silent words now exchanged between the two. A simple nod was all it took for Tonowari to speak up once more.

“Toruk Makto and his family will stay with us. Treat them as our brothers and sisters.” His father announced, facing the rest of the Metkayina. “But, they do not know the sea. So, they will be like babies—taking their first breath.”

“Teach them our ways, so they do not suffer the shame of being useless.”

Ao’nung’s demeanour remained unchanged, a neutral expression as he stared at the group. He felt like laughing at them, though he pushed aside the intrusive impulse as he watched Jake Sully turn to his family with a small look of bewilderment, a glint of relief in his eyes, it seemed.

Ao’nung felt particularly uneasy of the Na’vi leader, who just so happened to be the Toruk Makto as he learned from the conversation, only realising the reason as to why was due to the fact that he was the father, yet he acted dissimilar to how one would take upon the role.

It appeared to be pushed to the extremes.

“What do we say?”

“...Thank you.” The littlest one exclaims, her tone genuine as she did so.

He is a father and yet, he acts as anything but, if the way he ushered his children into position said anything.

Ao’nung kept staring, his thoughts set aside as he listened to the children thanking them. He did not miss how the other Na’vi girl, the one with her shoulders covered, rolled her eyes and how the two other boys—he supposed they three were siblings—looked at each other with uncertainty.

Perhaps they were troublesome. 

“My son, Ao’nung, our daughter, Tsireya will show your children what to do.” Tonowari briefly answered, gesturing to the two Metkayina in question as he did so.

Ao’nung couldn’t help the shock that coursed through him, turning to his father quickly with an upset expression.

“Father, why do—”

“—It has been decided.” His father quickly silenced him, an expectant look over his features as he stared back. To not let any more uncomfortable silence fester between the two, Tsireya inserted herself, an accommodating smile now.

“Come, I will show you our village.”

Ao’nung couldn’t help the irritation that slowly built itself inside of him.

✤

One thing that was for sure was that the Sully children were as troublesome, just as Ao’nung had initially assumed.

They were both horrible at diving and at holding their breaths underwater. Ao’nung could understand to a certain extent, though it didn’t hurt for him to tease them.

He felt a bout of arrogance and pride rising in him, finding entertainment in teaching the Sullys incorrectly, the results of them being thrown off their ilu and struggle became an escape for him to enjoy and to release the irritation and frustration that just so happened to embed itself in his skin—it may as well be heartless, but one cannot expect a Na’vi such as he, to respect those who resemble more of sky demon than the People that they supposedly are. 

Why bother treating them as closely as one would as brother and sister?

The irritation ebbed away slowly, though it still lingered within, no matter how much he wanted to rid himself of it.

The second week of his punishment had come to an end by the time the Sullys had just touched upon the basics of diving. It meant that he had no real reason to stay in the village and keep teaching. He initially felt apprehensive of letting Tsireya take on all the work of teaching the Sullys, though she was adamant on sticking true with her words from before. 

[Sister... are you sure?] “Ma tsmuke… am’ake srak?” Ao’nung asked, his eyes narrowing as he waited for Tsireya to respond.

[Yes, yes, brother.] “Sran, sran, ma tsmukan. You should meet with them again.” She assured, turning her attention to the Sully kids who sat atop the giant boulder. Rotxo was already there, talking casually with them as he waited for Tsireya and Ao’nung to make their way here.

While it was true that Tsireya had arrived at the boulder where the group was, she waved off her brother who quickly mounted onto his ilu. Rotxo tilted his head at the sight, turning towards his sister. He shot his hands up to his chest, confusion taking over his features.

‘Where is he going?’ Rotxo signed.

‘I believe you and I both know where he is headed.’ She replied, her movement was as graceful as it could be. A teasing smile appeared over her features as she added on. One of the Sully children, who Rotxo learned was Lo’ak, seemed to flush slightly in reaction to her smile—in which, ironically—Tsireya failed to notice. 

‘And in this case, it is who he is meeting.’  She finishes.

Tsireya watched in delight to see Rotxo quickly understand what she meant by putting her emphasis on ‘who’, a smug grin over his features as he chuckled in amusement. The Omaticayan children stare at the two Metkayina awkwardly, their confusion present as they struggled to understand the ‘finger talk’ that Tsireya and Rotxo were fluently practising in front of them.

“Now that is out of the way, Rotxo and I will be teaching you how to breathe for much longer underwater.” Tsireya announced to the group, repositioning herself into one of a kneeling position, as she took on the role as their instructor for the session. 

The Sullys brushed off their behaviour and instead, began intently listening to Tsireya and Rotxo’s instructions.

return ～ [ACT Ⅰ] previous ～ next [ACT Ⅲ]

Reblogs and likes are not at all necessary, but are appreciated if you do so. I hope you enjoyed reading this piece. Take care, my dear readers. Irayo nìtxan for reading.

taglist: @myh3artttt

#༄ Simple Interference ༄ #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x you #avatar twow x reader #avatar twow x you #avatar x reader #avatar x y/n #avatar twow #ao'nung #avatar fanfiction

[reficu1]

The reader is the ultimate psychic, and they summon the souls of their dead classmates.

possible longing

Lately, I've been feeling cold. Intense cold. Despite the fact that we are on an island where it is hot, I feel cool. This can only mean one thing. The souls want to talk to me, but they can't. Yes, and others do not feel very well. They complain about bad dreams that do not allow them to sleep, losing their morale.

“Guys! Can you smell this? As if Teruteru is in the kitchen, cooking something,” trying to convey his feelings to his friends all morning.

“It just smells like food, I don’t see anything strange in that, we’re in the dining room,” Fuyuhiko replies, so that she calms down already.

“But,” she wanted to say something.

“I agree with Fuyuhiko, you have it from lack of sleep,” supports Soda, who for some reason has been standing on the threshold all this time. The gymnast changes her face and is silent.

“Akane, let's go to the kitchen,” you don't tell the reason why you are going there, although others think that Y/N will start a song about his afterlife again.

“...” silently nods and you leave the dining room, and are left alone.

You want to tell her everything right now that you did last night, but you decide it’s better to check, otherwise they will again be considered a sick fan. In front of the door you hear strange sounds, it feels like they are cooking there. Akane does not understand anything and looks at you, and you look at the closed door with surprised eyes and as if you are about to cry, but you hold back your tears. You point to the handle, the friend makes a fearless face and abruptly opens the door.

“A!” familiar voice and this silhouette is heard.

“C-chef!?” Akane wonders.

“Well, who else?” Is distracted from the pan, “but I thought you would be glad to see me, or maybe you didn’t miss me, but the pod?”

“Hey, you're dead! Do you want to be in a coffin again?” Begins to knead his fists, approaches menacingly.

“Enough!” Two voices are heard at once, and Nidai and Byakuya emerge from the shadows. The first goes to Akane, the second to Teruteru.

“Akane, you can’t be left alone, you immediately dismiss your hands,” I was about to start the lecture, but interrupted him like that.

“Nidai! You came to me to read the nations?” Does, an offended face, “you rebelled to train me ?!” you feel that she would like to say something else, but she cannot because of those present.

“Watch the meat, it can burn like that,” Byakuya stands over Teruteru’s soul, and he tries to fix everything.

“I’m very glad that yesterday’s ritual worked out,” you decide to distract Twogami so that he leaves Hanamaru.

“I agree, I used to think it was some kind of nonsense,” Byakuya answers, after that he starts looking for something in his pocket, having found it, quickly runs through it, “we got here in pairs, groups, and someone alone. Can you bring certain people to such and such a place?”

“Of course I can, I started it all, I'm behind this and steer,” he liked your answer and you get the information.

You run out of the building to quickly find the others. You go into the cafeteria in the hope that someone will be there. It was, but he just wanted to leave.

“Where's Akane?" Fuyuhiko immediately notices you.

“It remains in the kitchen, but now you need to go to the beach, urgently!” You take him by both hands and look into his eyes.

“Don’t be so emotional,” you release the yakuza, “by the way, I myself was going there, it feels like I have to be there.”

“Yes? Well, let's go well,” go out together, you accompany him to the gate and immediately notice Hajime. You wave your hand to Fuyuhiko to go on alone and he leaves.

“Hinata! Come here!” You call the guy, he immediately responds and goes to you.

"Good morning Y/N, are you okay?" Hajime asked.

“Even very well!” he was already interested in your optimistic answer, which he had never heard from you, “Hajime, you should wait for someone on the left side of the pool, you will soon find out.”

“Well, okay,” he quickly agreed, because he didn’t have much to do.

“By the way, have you seen Sonya and Souda?” You hope that he saw where they are, you just don’t want to look for them all over the islands.

“The last time I watched them was on a farm,” he replied thoughtfully, “but what?” I wanted to ask what you were up to, but you left him, after Hajime goes to the place where he should wait for someone.

Heading to the farm to make sure they're there.

Here you stand at the gate and hear someone's voices. On the other side of the barn, two shadows are visible, but there are much more than two voices. You decide to peep and watch the picture: Mikan has fallen again, and Hiyoko is saying something about it, Mahiru is trying to calm both of them. Soda and Gundam are talking loudly about something, and Sonya is rolling transparent hamsters on a tray.

“They are doing well,” you drop the phrase and go to check the beach.

Run close, but you need to be quiet, otherwise you don’t want to disturb anyone. The wind intensifies, you see two figures that are right by the sea. Peko and Fuyuhiko. They stand opposite each other and say something, constantly erasing the tears that flow from happiness to see each other again, but only for one day. Kuzuryuu pulls his hand to her hair to straighten it, but she just goes right through Peko. It's a ghost. He covers his face with his hands to hide his tears. Peko froze and tried to somehow hug her master, found a middle ground in the hope that it would come down to support. She waits for him to calm down and will wait as long as she wants.

It's hard to look at. You close your mouth so as not to make an extra sound and leave. You decide to check on Hinata. After calming down, you return. It became quiet on the farm, which means they have gone somewhere, you find them quickly. Akane runs along the fence after Nidai, and on the ground Sonya supports the gymnast, Hiyoko quietly eats gummy bears. Souda stands with a pink umbrella and protects the princess from dust. So engrossed that they didn't notice you. You pass by, stop at one of the villas and watch as Hajime, Nagito and Chiaki took off their shoes, put their feet in the water, enjoying the silence and the presence of each other.

"-Souda and Sonya to the farm;

-Fuyuhiko to the beach;

-Akane to the kitchen;

-Hajime on the left side of the pool," you scroll through what Byakuya said and realize that you are not on the list. A lump rises in your throat from sadness, but ghosts do not need to argue, if you are not on the list, then it is necessary. It's still insulting. You decide walk around the islands and watch from the side.The guys often changed companies to be with all the dead friends.And so the day passed.You are sitting by the sea and throwing stones into the water, as you hear that someone is approaching.

“Y/N-chan, I’m sorry we forgot about you,” Sonya starts first.

"You helped us gain strength and find peace for them," Fuyuhiko continues.

"We were reminded of you by Byakuya, otherwise we wouldn't have remembered," at that moment Soda was hit by Akane.

“Recall would,” corrected his Owari.

“Yes, I’m sorry, Chiaki asked me to do this, because they can’t hug us,” Hajime hugged you, the others joined you. It is so warm in their embrace and you feel that it has become even warmer. Open your eyes and see your ghost classmates following your example. The sun is already setting. Your friends are disappearing. Their time on earth has expired. And you all stand like that.

“Oh, finally I got out, I couldn’t follow you through the cameras all day and I couldn’t appear at your place either,” Monokuma looks at you, “why are you like that?”

#danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa goodbye despair x reader #hajime x reader #nagito komeada x reader #gundham tanaka x reader #byakuya twogami x reader #sonia nevermind x reader #kazuichi souda x reader #chiaki nanami x reader

[pbandjesse]

James is home!! I am so glad they are back safe and sound and full of stories. They weren't back with me until 3 so I still had a lot of day to fill.

I went to sleep around 130. I am more and more realizing that while I can go to bed around 11 and wake up at 7. I seem to feel the best going to bed at 1 and waking up at 9. Like I don't love sleeping in. But also I seem the most happy at those times. But I know that doesn't exactly work for work but in my days off I will probably shift to a later sleep. And not try to get in bed to go to sleep just because James is sleeping.

I would wake up in a pretty good mood. Right before I went to sleep I saw a pretty disturbing video. And it was just stuck behind my eyes for a lot of the morning which was upsetting. But I tried to focus on other things.

I got up and got dressed and felt good. I went and fed Sweetp and had cereal. But I think there was some soap residue on the bowl because it had a soapy smell and then I had an upset stomach because I got myself all worried.

I had been eating in our room and spilled the milk in my desk and was frustrated with myself. But it was fine. I cleaned it up and went back downstairs.

I would curl up on the couch for a while. I wasn't in any rush. I did vacuum. And I put some stuff away. But I was just chilling. It was nice.

Eventually I went to the studio and finally used our new stapler to attach the fabric to my kneeling chair. And I am really excited about that. It's just been drapped on the chair for literally months. So this is perfect.

I decided I should go out. I should finally actually walk to Patterson. One of the big reasons we had moved to this neighborhood. I had been sick. But I finally felt well enough to try.

And I am so glad I did. I got my headphones (I found my skull candy ones and realized they are a lot more comfortable then my air pods. So I can use either but the skull candy is preferred for sure.) and poured a drink and headed out.

And it was beautiful. Just a s little brisk. But perfect for this walk.

We are only a few blocks from the park and I'm able to walk mostly on our street. But it's really funny how nice the next block is comparatively. And then one after that is even nicer. As you get closer to the park it's just beautiful. And like our block isn't bad, it just isn't nice. It doesn't have all the big trees or the outdoor decor. But since we are the next block I think eventually it will be as nice.

I loved seeing everyone's decorations and plants. And it was just really pleasant out there.

And the park was great. I feel so lucky to get to live so close to it now because it is such a beautiful place. And it feels so safe. I walked towards the pagoda first and took some pictures. Enjoyed the flowers. There weren't a lot of people out there, being a Monday, but I still smiled at everyone I came across. Lots of dogs. A couple people with kids. I had a podcast going and was just having a great time.

I would walk for about an hour. At one point I found some swings and chilled there for a while. Texting Jess. I got a missed call and a very long voicemail saying someone from a correctional institution wat trying to contact me but i needed to call back and put a credit card on file. And I'm like oh that's just a phishing scam to get my credit card. But when I heard someone was trying to call me from jail I was like. Stephen? My brother? But like I knew it was fake but also it was funny to me that they would be my first thought so I texted him to tell him that. To jokingly ask if he. Was trying to call me from jail. Which of course it wasn't but it still made me laugh.

I started walking home at this point. I decided I would have some lunch. I wandered down the street so I wouldn't have to go back to something I had already seen. But it's most a long walk home and soon I was back.

I made a pretty terrible frozen pizza. While it cooked I would finally get the fake grass cut to go in the catio. And would vacuum the fish tanks. And when my food was done at was kind of starving and overstimulated and yelled at Sweetp for trying to steal my food and got very upset.

But once I had eaten a little I felt better and apologized to Sweetp with ranch dressing. He forgave me.

I would leave the house around 1. James's flight was supposed to land around 3. So I was planning on going to value village and then meet them at the museum.

Value village was a good stop. I found a calico critter play box. Something I've never seen fore. And a mini version of my desk squishmallow. It will be funny to have them both there. I also found an excellent denim shirt dress. It's a dark wash but is also smaller checker patterned. Very cool.

I left the thrift store and went to the Harris teeter to look for fabric dye. Which I found right away. Right before I got to the grocery store James let me know they landed and would be about a half hour away walking form the train. This is where we went astray. Because there was a miscommunication and I told James I would meet them but they didn't understand and I went to the train when they said they arrived but they weren't there! And then I called them to ask where to meet them but they were confused and then I was confused and also couldn't figure out how to leave the parking lot. And James thought I was asking them to direct me and I was trying to explain they I was just confused and then we were talking over each other and I yelled at them and I felt terrible about it.

But James told me where to meet them and I was so happy to see them even if we were s little off kilter. Not in sync. The drive to the museum was mostly quiet and tense. And not fun.

I asked for a reset. A do over. When we got to the museum I got out of the car too and we hugged for a few minutes. Jessica came out of the musuem and said she was glad to see us.

We went inside to get James's bike and I felt like we were on the right track. But I was still upset and not feeling correct. James's energy was terrible. I texted Jess to tell through it. Because I knew James was probably just exhausted and they are very stressed flying. And when we got home, once everything was inside, we sat together and I just held them and we talked about it. How James felt guilty for leaving. Work and me. And how I was hurt that they didn't want to go for a walk with me and just wanted to do chores, when we only have this day off together. And it hurt my feelings. But we talked through it. Because we have a really good relationship and we love each other.

And when we got back to normal we did decide to go for that walk. And it was great. We walked to the pond and just spent most of the next hour telling me their entire journey and it sounded like Las Vagas was a lot. Like they had so much fun and drank so much (really got their money's worth) and gambled a little and saw so many titties. Sounds like a blast. I'm also just glad that they did not get jumped or robbed when they left the group at 2am and walked the almost two miles back to the hotel, completely black out drunk. Hilarious. I'm glad they had fun.

We walked back home. Where James insisted we put the doors back on that I had taken down to move the couch. And they went pretty easy. And we were able to gather ourselves to go get dinner.

We went to the diner. And James told me how gambling works and we talked about being more intentional with spending time together. And we did a really good job putting that into practice. Not just playing on our phones. Talking and being real and it was great.

We desperately needed gas. So before we went to get groceries after dinner we stopped at Royal farms. And I'm glad we did because between the gas station and the grocery store we got stuck behind a very slow moving train for almost 10 minutes. And like it wasn't horrible because we just got to be together and that was just really lovely. It was funny. Other cars were turning around. But James just put our car in park and we talked and laughed and it was really nice.

Grocery shopping was fun. We tried really hard to stay on track and on our list. We were also teasing each other and being silly. I would insist on waiting in line standing in front of James so we could both push the cart. It felt like we were catching up for missing each other for a few days.

We got home and got everything out away. And spent time cuddling on the couch. I love my husband so much.

Eventually James would fill our bucket with hot water for me in the kitchen so I could take a bath. While the kettle has worked before this ended up working so much better. Three buckets and a half filled tub of cool water and I was able to take a really excellent bath. Actually hot!

After I was clean and finished all my moisturizing, it was time for bed. James fell asleep already. And while I would love to stay up like I have been, I have to go to work tomorrow and I have a feild trip. I need to be rested. So I will attempt to go to bed now. Wish me luck. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[dragonflight203]

Mass Effect 1 replay, Maroon Sea:

Caspian

Farnuri – Once it had an oxygenated amtosphere. Now it does not. Given the youth of the star and the gravity of the planet, that’s unusual. Game suggests could be caused by cataclysmic event – Reapers?

-MSV Cornucopia – The Dragon’s Teeth that created the husks are in the side rooms.

-What alien artifact drove them to drive the ship into the Perseus Veil? Reaper related?

-This is another question Legion really should have been asked. Based on ME2, only heretics were husking people. So if this ship went into the Perseus Veil and got husked, what went down? That’s where the true geth were.

-Another thread never picked up in later games.

Vostok

-Nordacrux – Yet another planet almost perfect for colonization, but not quite because of an issue with it’s atmosphere. In this case pollen. For some reason, that’s treated as more difficult to work around then Elatania’s issue with symbiotic creatures in the air.

-Interesting that the Thorian creepers nearby what looks like a crashed ship and research trailer are unmarked. Presumably the “test samples” mentioned in the transmission found on Feros did indeed become hostile.

-This is easily the best prefab structure in the game so far. It actually looks unique! There’s a bar, the first room has seating like a waiting room, there’s one of those thorian sacks on the wall… Well done, whoever designed this.

-Back room on the right is also designed well. The pods look like they’re the Normandy sleep pods and I think the hanging structures are from the med bay, but the way it’s set up this looks like a lab.

-Also, bodies. Presumably researchers.

-It’s been about a month since Feros was infected. How the hell has ExoGeni already captured Thorian Creepers and figured out how to make them docile and obedient?

I think Bioware’s so used to working on crunch time they’ve forgotten what a realistic time frame looks like. Someone let these devs sleep.

-So, paragon and renegade ends in researchers dead. Go neutral, you take a bribe.

Matano

-Supay – Bioware’s grasp of human nature shines through again air. Ships land, gather water, and are charged automatically for it by satellites. These satellites keep being “accidentally” destroyed. This will absolutely happen in the future.

-Chasca – The alien art with the ring sounds amazing.

-Finally, a Prothean pyramid that is actively being researched. Hope they don’t mind that Shepard looted them.

-And back to husks. They’re easier to kill than Thorian Creepers, at least.

-There are Dragon’s Teeth everywhere. Supposedly, this was caused by a Cerberus visitor that came through the colony. So where did all the Dragon’s Teeth come from? Did the dude just drop some around each building while whistling? Did whatever cause the husking make the colony create Dragon’s Teeth?

-The Feros communication about this colony mentioned samples, and the doctor’s concern about sending them before there is an antidote. What samples? And an antidote to husking? None of this makes sense.

#mass effect #mass effect 1 #mass effect 1 replay

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Byte had always liked his share of fun. He enjoyed messing with universes, damaging them badly, and then repairing them to start all over. However, it was a pastime of his he could scarcely do now.

Always having one other Admin near you was a bother. Byte was near one of the oldest Admins in the Adminspace, and yet here they were, treating him like new code! Well.. he knew why they were, but it was still pissing him off.

He adjusted his green tophat and opened the command box, peering into the SM64 universe. His green trenchcoat with a blue dress shirt underneath, with green suspenders and a slightly darker shade of green pants and blue shoes, was well kept as well, surprisingly.

The Admin smiles to himself as he begins to click through the command box before finding the scene he wanted. There they were. SMG-1 and SMG-2. Or, as they were better known now as Domain and Forum.

His creations.

His smile grew, prideful and arrogant. He was the whole reason the SMG Program had even started. He had created those two and suggested it. Of course, it was all a front for what he wanted to do; mess and play with the universe how he wanted. However.. the other Admins seemed to have realized he was doing something suspicious, but of course, they couldn't come out and say it without evidence.

So, when the time came and his prototypes surpassed expectations, Byte was dumbstruck when all the other Admins unanimously agreed to ascend the Guardians to Admins.

He had only been able to agree with a fake smile.

But now?

His smile turns to a grin as his two pupils, a -1 and -2, dilate just a bit. Even now, he still had some control over his creations. All those little commands and codes? He could use them.

He looks over his shoulder and chuckles. Good. Umbra was gone.

He closes his eyes and lets his code spread out before reforming. He looks around, and his grin widens, seeing he was in SMG4's Guardian Pod.

"Who are you?" asks a voice behind him, and Byte turns around.

His grin morphs to a smirk, seeing Domain and Forum standing there. They recognize him as a Higher-Up, but they don't know who he is. Domain has his fists clench and Forum his watching him warily.

Like they know he's up to no good.

"Just an Admin.." Byte hummed as strings of code appeared around his hands. "Here to do an.. indefinite universe inspection, in the fancy terms."

The green strings of code moved too quickly for the two younger Admins to even think. They're ensnared quickly and strung from the air like puppets. They struggle against their binds, but it's no use. The older Admin is more powerful than them.

"My little puppets!" Byte laughs, lowering the two to the ground. More strings of code appear and wrap around their necks. The two Admins faces fall blank, but their eyes are now looking around, confused and panicked. "Oh, how confused you must be.."

He walks up to Forum and grips his chin. "With these strings, you two are now my little dolls to be used. Puppets to put on a show. Of course, I could have just forced you two into a deep sleep and not have you watched the show, but where's the fun in that?

Byte lets go of Forum's chin and turn back around, having the strings of code lift the two other Admins. He watches with a smile as tears collect in Forum's eyes, and he can tell that Domain is trying to glare at him.

"I think this is going to be fun!" Byte laughs, grinning widely as the other Admins eyes flash to a green just like his clothing. "Don't you?"

#admin: byte #usb: smg3 #usb: smg4 #!posts! #fanfiction: my writing! #the toxic ringmaster

[agnapalace]

from the look on his face, he never gave in

The brig was quiet.

Finally, he thought. He luxuriously leaned his head on the cell wall, drinking in the silence.

No AI Pod whispering in his ear. His head was empty of all thought, his dreams vacant. How many days had passed since they put him in here he didn’t know.

He would probably be killed at the hands of these savages that masqueraded as soldiers, not bothering to listen to a word he’d say. His only regret would be all the work he’d leave behind would be picked up by some vultures from one of Cipher’s private companies. 

The trial was coming up, Huey knew; that damned Ocelot let it slip this morning as he came to personally deliver Huey’s meal (which resembled the bits of food always clinging to DDog’s muzzle). Though Ocelot hadn’t said anything beyond that, Huey knew Snake was due to return from a mission soon and would undoubtedly be a participant. It was probably useless to work up a pathos angle to him, so logic and reason had to prevail.

Had to. Huey still had so much work to do.  His life couldn’t end here in unmarked watery grave at the hands of savages pretending to be men.

++

He thinks a few days have passed. He started progressively eating less and less - not out of protest, but out of weariness. He’s almost certain they’re giving him DDog’s scraps.

“...here...” “This way...” Huey’s gaze is hazy. Two dark shadows have approached his cell, peering down at him. Silver blond catches in the red hazard lights, creating some sort of bloody half-circle around the shadow’s head. The other one - and Huey gains enough self awareness to stifle a scream - has a single cyclops eye boring into his. The AI Pod returned. His judge, jury, and executioner. ++

Guilty.

Guilty was he was thrown into a life boat. Guilty was he who had nothing but a cardboard box of supplies and his bipedal legs in the raft.

Huey might have preferred death over the humiliation.

He cursed at them and proclaimed his innocence over and over again, but all the eyes of the men only saw a guilty man. Criminals condemning him? What a joke.

They set him out to sea and Huey watched in alarm as the lip of the raft dipped under the choppy waters and the ocean began to fill in at an alarming speed. Huey looked around. The only thing heavy enough that could cause it was the steel legs sitting beside him.

His heart sank as he watched his legs sink into the depths of the ocean. I won’t scatter you to the heartless sea, Snake had promised the men he had slaughtered, holding their ashen remains close to his chest. But those demons disguised as men made no move to extend the same courtesy to him.

What goes around comes around, Huey thought derisively, affording one last glare at the shrinking form of his jailers. You took everything away from me. It will happen to you all, too.

++

Huey sat on the porch, staring absentmindedly the glossy surface of the inground pool. The cicadas’ song was so loud it was hard to form much thought. But for him, it was a perfect evening. He was three glasses deep into his whiskey and was pleasantly buzzed. 

“I’d love to see your face right now,” he said aloud. “You took away my legs, but I gained things you’ll never have.” A house with a picket fence and a pool. A gorgeous wife, though that came with a little brat in tow, but she was easy enough to ignore. His son finally back in his custody, and all the money he could ever dream of and more.

(Though his dreams changed over the years. As if the AI Pod left a mark on him, a red, splotchy emblem he couldn’t erase on his hands, no matter how raw they became. The Seychelles waters nor the chlorine pool could get it off. Every morning, he would check his hands, but every night, the damned spot returned. So he stopped sleeping.)

He heard the pattering of feet behind him, and the screen door opened. He didn’t bother looking behind him, and took another pull of his whiskey, draining the glass.

“Dear, is that you? It’s three in the morning.” For someone who was also awake at three A.M., she didn’t sound like she had been sleeping either.

“Yes, Julie. I’m going now. The time got away from me.” Huey kept his gaze fixed on the water. “Okay.” He felt Julie linger behind him for a few long seconds, and then heard the sound of the screen door being pulled shut. Sllippered feet padded on the hardwood and disappeared into the house.

Huey sighed. Julie was young and beautiful but so overbearing. They had been married for a few years now and she understood that his work came before the family, but she never understood he needed time to be alone. His work was hard and put their food on the table.

He made no move to return to the house. The summer breeze felt like the very same from Seychelles, even if they lived on the east coast of the United States. The water before him, placid and still, still reminded him of the days and nights spent on the Indian Ocean after excommunication from Diamond Dogs. The countless times he watched Julie and his stepdaughter dive into the depths, he believed for half a second they would find his exoskeletal legs and bring it back to him.

You shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth for the rest of your days.

His research, his limbs, his time-they would never return. The facade of a domestic life tried to fill that emptiness he felt as best he could. Would he do anything differently? No, of course not. He has no regrets.

Huey looks at the empty glass in his hand and impulsively throws it into the pool. With a soft splash it bobs in the water, floating along gently in the night. He wishes it would break and shatter into shards. They could close the pool or drain it to get the shards out. It would be fine.

[freefavors]

The Music That Helped Shape Me

   So for this first blog, one of my ideas was to give a brief (as possible) story of my musical affinity, and more specifically, the scene that really fostered my love for the bands and genres that I love today. In doing so, I hope whoever reads this gets a glimpse into what it was like discovering music for me, has some laughs along the way, and maybe finds out about some bands they might never have heard of.

   Music was always a constant for me. Growing up in the church, it was there from the very beginning; every Sunday from a week or two after my birth, my parents were taking me to the small Assemblies of God church that my grandpa pastored, and it was here that I suppose my affinity for it started. One my earliest memories is of me singing on the stage during the worship portion of the service, and I couldn’t have been more than five or six. And this coupled with the fact that my dad bought a keyboard that came with free lessons he didn’t want to use, my parents enrolled me in piano at age 6, which only lasted a year; mostly because my friend at the time told me that my piano teacher’s bulging finger veins on her were because of her long tenure in the ivory arts. And nobody wants that. But as horrible as it sounds, I distinctly remember that one of the other reasons I wanted to stop playing was because the teacher wanted to start teaching me church songs, but I didn’t want to learn them because they were boring to me.

 I know it didn’t come into play at that young age, but at the time, in our specific Christian circle, anything “secular” or outside of the religious music circle was deemed unacceptable listening. This meant that our car radio was tuned to the local Christian station, K-LIFE. Our stereos were bumping the tunes of Kirk Franklin and Fred Hammond, and this was my musical landscape. And to be honest, I didn’t care and didn’t even know that there was a world outside of what we had.

  A turning point came a little later on, when I was first baptized as like a nine year old. My grandma gave me a Rebecca St James cd as a gift (don’t judge me), and for the most part, it was your basic CCM affair: girl singer with lyrics about Jesus, weird flute parts on one song that made it feel SUPER late-nineties and early 2000’s (still awesome), and out of nowhere, there was this song:

   Now to the musical aficionado, this song may break any boundaries for you, but for a super emo kid like me, this song was a turning point for me. I had heard Alanis Morissette-esque guitars in Sixpense None The Richer and Point of Grace songs before (please look up those bands), but not like this, or so I thought. The guitar seemed front and center here, which gave the song slightly heavier tinge. I would later find out that was just the bass and synthesizer, and the guitars weren't really upfront at all. But that was enough for me, and it produced in me a desire to find music that felt more like that.

  My eyes were now open to the fact that music could be more energetic, more exciting, and, in the words of Old Ben Kenobi in Star Wars: A New Hope, I had now taken my “first steps into a larger world”. But what Rebecca did in terms of expanding my horizons with one song, would continue through my discovery of a channel on a Christian satellite network called “TVU”, and its affiliate radio station “Radio U”. From POD’s Sleeping Awake to Big Dismal’s Remember IOU,  and quite possibly an Embodyment song from The Narrow Scope Of Things, new genres were being introduced to me in larger doses than I had ever experienced before. Nu Metal, Industrial Rock, Alt-Metal, they were all there, and at the time, I didn’t realize the greater impact they were having on me. But that would all change in seventh grade when I found the Skillet album Collide.

 Skillet, if you don’t know, is a Christian rock band from Memphis, Tennessee, that formed in the 90’s as a side project of their lead singer, John Cooper. What started as an outreach-oriented Nirvana style romp blossomed into a Grammy Nominated, stadium-filling powerhouse; but at the time of their seminal release Collide, they were a semi-successful CCM outfit looking to cross the cultural divide. And it was during their record cycle for the deluxe version of Collide that I picked I finally picked up their record, and little my little Jimmy-ears were floored. From the beginning riff of the first track Forsaken to the last seconds of the final track Cycle Down, I was hit by an auditory onslaught of everything I had been looking for in music: the guitars were heavy, the hooks were catchy, and as an angsty 7th grade kid, I was sure that every song was written about me. This album was on heavy rotation for me that year, and when I listen to that album today, I can still remember those times and feel what I felt in those moments of adolescence.

   To add insult to injury, I also found out that there were actual DVD’s that you could buy that had music videos. My first one of these such purchases was X2004: Christian Rock Hits. Skillet was on there of course, with their music video for the song Savior, the band Pillar had their song Battlecry I believe, the band 12 Stones with Crash, and even the video for Anberlin’s Readyfuels. There was one video on there that made me scratch my head when I first heard it, first in disgust, and then…in curiosity. That was the video for Emery’s Walls. To the early 2000’s emo kid, Emery is a household name, and are one of the heavy hitters of the third wave Emo scene (I think its third wave), or maybe more accurately, the screamo kingo’s. Either way, what I had just stumbled upon truly baffled me.

   If you didn’t watch the video, the first seconds of the song, the singer screams an entire portion of the song. No singing, just screaming. And I didn’t like it. Sure Skillet had done it in Collide, but that was icing on the cake to already tasty jams. Sprinkles on the frosted cookies from Food Max that are way too sweet but you eat seven in one sitting anyway. They aren’t meant to be eaten that way. You weren’t supposed to scream more than a few words at a time. But this weird British band Emery was doing it. I later found out they were southern but just looked British. At first, all the screaming was truly vile to me as I mentioned before. But it was that strange phenomenon in that I didn’t like the song, but there was something there that I couldn’t quite pin down, so I would keep watching the video. And the more that I watched it, the more it grew on me. And the more it grew on me, the more I actually started liking it.

  It was all over after this, and I began my descent into arguably the greatest rise of the Christian underground scene that ever occurred. After finding Emery, my desire for heavier music with screamed vocals continued, and soon, I found the band Still Remains through TVU, in a video for a song I can only describe as the quintessential metal(core) song, “The Worst Is Yet To Come”.

   This song had it all: Super fast guitar playing, crazy double bass, screaming vocals, and a really catchy chorus sung by the very cool Mike Church. And same as before, I bought the album, and loved it. This was the point of no return, and I continued to dive head first into this scene of heavy music. As I Lay Dying, Norma Jean, Demon Hunter, they were all playing this heavy style, but with different variations and their own riff on things, and I couldn’t get enough. And when I found out that a lot of these bands had record labels in common, I had a place I could go to to find out about new releases, new bands, and dream of one day being on one of these labels.

  This enthusiasm carried on, and when high school started, I had made new friends who shared my excitement for the scene, and we embarked on some of the greatest adventures of my lifetime: Concert-going. I had dabbled a little in the past with my dad, but high school really marked the beginning of regular concert going with friends. As I Lay Dying and Still Remains in San Luis Obispo, Warped Tour 07 in Ventura, we did it all, and we did it together. We sung along to our favorite bands, we got sucked into the circle pits, we braved the extreme weather conditions, and we wouldn’t have had it any other way. Our journeys were legendary, and they were all because of this exploding scene in which Christians, passionate about their faith and the music they loved, brought it to the forefront for us.

  And even though I still wasn’t able to listen music that wasn’t Christian, I still didn’t care much, because for me, spiritually, the lyrics being sung made all the difference. Through all the twists and turns of growing up, finding who I was, and going through the pitfalls that come with adolescence, I was encouraged, taught, and comforted through many of these songs. And most importantly, I was shown a very real Jesus who did care, and who wanted to reveal himself to Me. 

  All these years later, the music and the scene still hold near and dear to my heart, and without them, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Many of the albums still hold up to modern listening, and at the very least, tell the story of of my life. And as I grow older I can only hope that I will be just as affected by, if not more, music that moves me.

[rmpmw]

Tablet: My hero’s journey

Let me start on a side note: Dear netbook makers, whoever you are — I don’t know your names because we don’t pay any attention to you, but we know you’re out there, polluting the world with your cheap, ugly, underpowered machines — but here is my command: Surrender and prepare to be boarded. Yes, you’ve been pwned. We told you we didn’t care about the netbook market, so you went ahead with your plans, but now we’re about to put you out of business — iTablet is in the final stages, which means Apple will be taking over the market you created and then reinventing it in such a way that it immediately becomes 10 times bigger than it used to be, and all the money goes to Apple.

Honestly, Apple faithful, I feel like Jesus coming down from Mount Zion with those stone tablets. Except my tablet is electronic, which Katie says makes me Electronic Jesus. Of course she’s kidding. We really don’t go around comparing me to Jesus. Frankly, it’s apples and oranges, and it sort of diminishes both of us to put us in a framework like that. But I really view this product as the crowning achievement of my career. I’ve come to believe it is the reason I was put on earth. And yes, this is why I was, well, a bit of a dick to the people who were working on it. Because it had to be perfect. And you know what? It is. It’s actually better than perfect, which maybe you didn’t think was possible, but it is. In fat that is a phrase I first heard from my friend I.M. Pei (who by the way just loves his 30-inch Cinema Display) when he was telling me about that glass pyramid at the Louvre. “Steve,” he said to me, “it is better than perfect.” Ever since then, I’ve strived to reach that level of beyond perfection, or, as we say at Apple, “perfection plus.”

And now we’ve hit it. Because iTablet truly is the most amazing product I’ve ever created, more amazing even than iPhone, and I was pretty sure iPhone would never be topped. Fast network? Check. Gorgeous interface? Check. Light weight? Sleek design? Great (unremovable) battery life? Check, check, check. Childlike wonder? Almost too much of it. In fact, the first time Phil Schiller held iTablet in his hands, he began to shake and had to sit down. It’s that overwhelming.

As usual, we began with an ad campaign. Then we went through excruciating rounds of prototyping and non-thinking and dozens of emergent designs. Then came months of trying to decide whether the tablet should be white or black, and looking at plastics, and getting the exact right gloss. Then came the packaging, and finally, last March, we began the lock-down period where the two dozen engineers who are most crucial to the project are kept on campus 24×7 so that they can’t talk to their families or friends about what they’re doing. For 18 of those hours every day they work in solitary confinement, communicating with each other only through email and instant messages, and receiving delicious, freshly cooked ethnic meals through a slot in their door. For six hours they are put into “sleep mode,” meaning they are hooked to an IV and put into an intensely restful chemically induced coma in solitary sleep pods (shiny white, natch) during which time their dreams are monitored and scrubbed of any information that we deem proprietary.

Now we’re in the final stage — leak mode. No doubt you’ve seen the articles, like this one in Apple Insider or the one in the Financial Times where they said we’re doing some “Cocktail” thing with music companies so we can force people to go back to those wonderful days when you had to buy a whole album of shit songs just to get the one song you liked. That part about the music companies and the cocktail was what we call a “barium enema,” meaning it’s fake info that we attach to the real info so that we can trace who leaked it and then have that person shot.

Meanwhile, we’re also well into rehearsals for the iTablet keynote. And, as always, it’s making me nuts. We spend eight to ten hours a day on stage in the recreation of the Moscone Center here on campus. And it’s just grueling. Every few seconds I have to stop because some tiny thing is not quite … perfection plus. I realize I’m being overly obsessive, but I can’t help myself. This is a super important event. Not only because we’re introducing the most amazing product the world has ever seen, but because this marks my return from the underworld.

We’re using the code name “Project Orpheus,” and in order to create the right vibe for the event everyone on the events team was required to read Joseph Campbell’s “The Hero with a Thousand Faces.” Because think about it. A hero goes off on a journey or adventure; experiences tremendous challenges that threaten his life; he possibly even dies, and journeys into the underworld; but then he returns to the ordinary world with a great gift, or “boon,” to share with the world. (Yeah, I know — “boon” sounds like “boom.” Happy accident. We’re working with it.)

Anyway, just like Orpheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to the world, my gift to the world is iTablet — a device that incorporates not just chips and software, but magic. Special secret powers from Mount Olympus, stuff that turns you into a kind of man-god, a semi-divine being with a magic tablet so light that you can’t even feel it in your backpack or briefcase but with the ability to connect you to the Internet and enable you to buy anything you want as long as it comes from Apple. In other words, you’re a superhero. With super powers. All this for only $899!

If you doubt the power of this hero’s journey myth to sell products, well, I urge you to check out some of the organizations that have used it in the past. Like there’s this product called Christianity. Have you heard of it? Pretty big deal. I mean they’ve been selling that stuff for two thousand years — to be sure, with updates and upgrades, and a lot of forking of the code — but it’s still throwing off huge amounts of positive cash flow. All based on this amazing marketing narrative about a dude who dies, goes down into Hades, and comes back to the ordinary world with something to tell. You spiff that story up a bit and tell it just right, and people send you their money. Not just once, but over and over and over again, throughout their entire lives. Brilliant! It’s the greatest marketing campaign ever invented.

But you know what? This whole “I’m off to get a liver and might even die but oh wait, I’m back now and guess what, I saw God and here’s the tablet computer that he wants you to use” thing is right up there. People are gonna be so excited to see me on stage that they’ll do anything I tell them. P.T. Barnum? David Blaine? The big J.C. himself? I have pieces of guys like that in my stool. So, my advice? Keep your Tuesdays in September free. Get the lawn chairs and blankets ready, and start staking out a space in front of your local Apple store, and get those credit cards ready. Nerdvana is just around the corner. Seriously. It’s closer than you think.

[arcanewonder]

two broke girls do del sol valley.

#the sims 4 #ts4 #monet rosewood #audrey meek #ts4 scenery #seasalt #getfamousgp #block this tag if you don't want my random scenery stuff from this pack #the only reason i came was for those sleeping pods #because hey they look like vr pods #and also some of the buy stuff #i just need a bunch of wires #but i stayed for the all scenery #yes these two are a ship #i'm not even subtle about my ships in stories #but at least you now what you get and can abort at any time #they blew pretty much all of audrey's inheirtance money from her grandmother on this place #me waiting to sell my soul to get all this pack stuff liberated #i'm hungry and greedy #i feel like nagisa would have an interesting childhood with her parents friends #including these two #damn if this doesn't remind of my short time in los angeles #always looks to the tags for the entire life story of a single post