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#I don't have at least one piece to choose from for every month

stabortega · 6 months

Text

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Jenna never thought that she would be paying the bills of the videographer from her next movie.

Pairings: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader.

Warnings: NSFW, smut. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. G!P reader. Mentions of: Sex, dirty talking, sexting. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's note: Meh. Don't know how I feel about this one yet, sorry for any typos. 💔

MASTERLIST.

Jenna considered herself a very busy woman. Having to shoot movies every couple of months, press circles, parties to attend, and taking care of her own mental health could be challenging sometimes. She didn't have a single second for herself for a very long time. God, she couldn't even remember when was the last time she even went out for a drink, watched a movie outside of her own home, or even kissed a stranger at some stupid nightclub. She was too busy to live, and that made her rethink about all of the stuff she's been building for herself. It made her sad, even.

Until Jasmin came along with some ideas, obviously.

"It's just a stupid website, Jen. You don't even need to leave your house or your bedroom. Masturbating in the comfort of your own home." Jasmin rambled while searching for the website name in her phone, Jenna looking at her with an apprehensive (and embarrassed) look on her face. I mean, the best place to have this conversation is definitely not in the middle of one of the Scream VII sets, which they just started filming. "Don't be such a prude, girl. Live a little."

"I'm not, it's just-" She took a deep breath. "I've been out of the market for a while now, I don't even know what to say, or do." She sighed, making Jasmine roll her eyes jokingly.

"Girl, that's bullshit. And plus, you don't even need to say anything. You choose a model, girl or guy, watch their livestream, and pay them to do anything you ask. It's wild." It was obvious that Jasmine was a loyal customer on that website.

"Anything?" Jenna regreted asking that the minute it came out of her mouth.

"Sis, last sunday, I was talking with this chick..." And then Jasmine went on rambling about how she made the poor girl squirt on her own laptop camera for mere $500 bucks.

Jenna looked aghast.

And yet she was interested enough to browse on that website at 11PM while everyone in that hotel floor was asleep. Obviously, she clicked almost immediately in her area of interest. It was minimalist, yet full of information at the same time. You could choose between all sorts of categories; MILFs, findoms, intersex, you name it. She browsed a little on each category, not finding anyone that really sparked her interest, untill she came across one certain page under the intersex category. @(Y/N)xz. A boring username, to say the very least. But when she clicked on your profile, you were just in the middle of your livestream. Without hesitation, she clicked right on top of it, and she could swear she almost felt the tip of your cock poke her face.

You were standing on top of your bed, on your knees while you stroked your cock very slowly. The camera position made it impossible for someone to see your head, which made Jenna curious on how you looked like. Then, a raspy moan drove Jenna out of her thoughts, looking at the screen one more time. You were massaging your breasts with one of your hands, while the other stroked your cock in the most erotic way Jenna has seen. She felt something the moment you started thrusting your dick on you hand, making the latina girl wish that you were pounding her instead.

She watched you for a couple of minutes, trying her best not to touch herself, let alone interact with you. She would not succumb into feeding that industry that sexualizes men and women, objectifying their bodies as if they were nothing but a piece of meat.

jenna2709: you look so hot fucking your hand like that.

jenna2709: wish you were fucking me instead.

You weren't the type of person to really respond the chat if they weren't paying or if they weren't loyal customers, but somehow, you felt like answering that one. You held down the base of your cock and slapped it on the palm of your hand a couple of times. "Wish I was fucking you too, Jen."

Oh, that drove Jenna to the edge. She immediately got up and closed the door, locking it behind her. She sat down on her bed, not taking her eyes off of you for a second. She knew her panties were already wet, but only when she touched her clit while laying on her bed, she realized that she would need to change her underwear as soon as possible. It amazed the actress that you made her pussy dripping wet and she didn't even knew your name. Her hand started to make slow and circular movements on her throbbing clit, and the fact that she felt so dirty and wrong for doing that made everything better.

She looked at the chat, seeing that some girl (with the most obnoxious username ever) sended you $100 asking you to moan her name. Which you proudly did, the sound of you saying that chick's name almost made Jenna close the laptop and go to sleep. Instead, she clicked on some keys on her keyboard and waited for the magic happen.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $500 with the message: now, you moan my name.

You looked surprised, but thankfully the camera positioning made impossible to look at your face. That was probably the highest tip you've ever recieved live. "$500 bucks to only moan your name? Come on, baby... You can do better than that, huh?"

She was right, Jenna thought. I can do better that only asking for her to moan my name as if I were a hormone-filled teenager.

jenna2709: fine.

jenna2709: tell me what would you do if i were in front of you.

"Oh, you know what I'd do, baby." You laughed a little, holding down to the base of your cock and letting it hit your belly a couple of times. "Have you on all fours, holding your hair in a ponytail and railing you raw, until you couldn't function anymore. Until you forget your name. Just like this."

You started to thrust on your hand again, making it sure that your viewers (and her) could see your cock going in and out of your hand. Jenna felt overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. Right now she had completely lost all of her ideals. Fuck the rules, fuck the noises, fuck that stupid industry. She just wanted to feel you inside of her, filling her up with your cock and your cum. The actress never felt this dirty before, and she was loving every second of it. "You wished I was doing that to you, huh?"

jenna2709: you know i do.

Jenna couldn't stop looking at you and thinking about your face. The camera position made it impossible for someone to see your head, but there were a few things Jenna learned about your identity just by analyzing you & your room. It didn't seemed it were your own room, it felt more like a hotel room or something. Smart, she thought. Not a single hair strand falling from your head, which could mean you had short hair. A few random tattoos here and there, nothing specific. You had only the left nipple pierced, for some unknown reason. And a scar right on the palm of your right hand. She knew she would never find you with that little information, but it comforted her that you were out there, somewhere.

"Fuck, I'm almost there..." Again, your voice distracted Jenna from her thoughts, and this time, she was able to think more quickly.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $1000 with the message: cum for me, will you?

"Shit, Jenna, you know it's all for you..." You started to thrust even more violently, every now and then slapping your own cock. Jenna felt close too, at that point her panties were pretty much ruined and her hand felt sore, but she wouldn't stop until she came with you.

And then you finally did. Thick ropes of cum fell right onto your white duvet, while you thrusted your member a little bit more to ride your climax out. Jenna's mouth watered, she couldn't stop imagining that thick cum inside of her, filling her up. And the thought of that made her cum as well, trying to be as silent as possible so no one could hear her moaning your name secretly. Little did she know that you were thinking about her too.

Jenna felt embarrassed after she was done, so she pretty much slammed her laptop shut, and got up to take a shower. She prefered to erase that moment out of her head, and erase you (and your delicious body) too. She was trying to figure out what excuses she would give to her accountant once he saw her bank statement for this month, when she fell asleep.

When she woke up, the next morning, she went on her day normally. Went through her routine and left her room, going to the set trying her best not to think about you and the way you moaned.

"Jenna!" The actress heard her name getting called the minute she stepped foot on that set. It was one of the videographers, Dave, who Jenna had been working since Scream V. "Let me introduce you my newest assistant. She's gonna work with you guys very closely this movie, so I thought I should introduce you two." Dave said, his accent making it clear that he was from NYC. "Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!"

(Y/N)? What a coincidence, Jenna thought, as she looked over Dave's shoulder and saw a girl walking towards them. Needless to say, she was gorgeous.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna." The girl smiled, and Jenna swore she had the most beautiful smile she has ever seen. Then, she stretched out her right hand so Jenna could shake it. The actress almost had a heart attack when she looked at that familiar scar which she had seen the day before through her computer screen.

#scream #jenna ortega smut #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday #the fallout #you

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paper-mario-wiki · 8 months

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hey, can I ask you for some advice? sorry if this is uncalled for or you just can't answer this, I understand if so

how did you work up the courage to actually get to HRT so fast? I've found out I was a trans woman around when I was 15 and im about to have my 23rd birthday, and due to my financial/working/academic/housing (I live w my fairly conservative parents) situation it does not look like it's in the cards for me any time soon. but also I feel like I should just try to find a way and try to start out ASAP, for the sake of my own happiness. but also im afraid of whatll happen if things go Topsy turvy and I need housing from a family that thinks I'm a freak. how did you do it? again, apologies if this ask feels unwarranted or to big to ask to "Funny lady play tf2 dot blog", but I'm fine if this doesn't see an answer

First of all, I don't have insurance, so keep in mind that I did it out of pocket (note: I am broke).

I used Zocdoc (America only, sorry) to find a hormone therapy consultation, went to that appointment, and they referred me to an endocrinologist. After I got some blood tests done, I got prescribed a 30 day supply of sublingual Estradiol for about $16, again, without insurance. Now, this is of course in Biden's Seattle so it might not be as easy where you are. But at least for me, the process from booking the first appointment, all the way to taking the first pill was about half a month, because I got lucky finding a doctor. During covid, according to my endocrinologist, there was a HUGE explosion of people wanting to medically transition, so a very common thing I've heard is that a lot of doctors are booked out for months. I was lucky enough to get this appointment on Sep 1st, because the next person available in my area wouldnt have gotten me in until November.

Critically, here's my main piece of advice: You can't start until you take the first real action towards accomplishing it outside of your head. You can think, and plan, and crystalize how great it would be if it happened, but you have to actually make the first step and google "HRT doctors in my area", and schedule an appointment. To do it, you must first do it. This goes for many things in life. Simply starting the processes instead of keeping them in my head had me accomplishing many things I never thought I actually would, like starting HRT, going to university in Japan, and moving to Seattle.

Many people like me, including maybe you, are really good at getting in your own head and thinking of every possible way something could go wrong, or could be denied to you. And you get so tied up in the reasoning that you forget about the Doing. To the best of your ability, try to stop thinking, and just start doing. Anything. Choose to do something that you have wanted to for a while. Just one thing. Doesn't have to be buying a plane ticket to France, or confessing a huge secret, maybe start with that thought you had the other day of "ya know I bet pottery on those big goofy wheels is fun" and google 'pottery wheels near me' and see where it takes you. It's easier than you'd think to try. And who knows, at the end of this process maybe you'll have a beautiful vase. Or, even better, a vase with a personality, flaws, and a new hobby that you're excited to get better at.

#anon

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macsimagines · 10 months

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Ex-boyfriend & Yandere!Ran Haitani

(This is my best one guys i really like it. Please tell me what you think my ask box is open!!! Ms.Mac)

TW: Stalking, gaslighting, abuse, murder Unhinged behavior

Leaving Ran wasn't easy. He never took you seriously when you kept trying to tell him you were done.

Would still show up at your place demanding sex or somewhere to crash after partying too hard.

Its like he wasn't letting you break up with him. You kept trying to make it clear you were over it and he'd just reel you back in with empty promises and sweet lies.

But then he'd go and be an asshole and smack your ass infront of his friends or call you mean names...flirt with other girls in front of you...

You're done officially. You don't even tell him in person, just shoot him a text and move out of your apartment and out of Roppongi.

You choose to block him on all platforms, change your number, you're literally cutting out every piece of him.

Of course, you're not that lucky. It only takes a week or two but he eventually shows up at your apartment demanding to know what shit you think your pulling now.

A fight ensues, you yell and he yells then you're crying and he really thinks he's slick when he tries to hug you. But you shove him away and tell him you want out of this relationship.

The way he looks at you after that is down right unsettling, but he asks you for sex. He really does ask you for "one more unforgettable night." to seal the deal.

Despite all the red flags in your gut, you cave. Anything to get rid of Ran Haitani forever.

Its great. Its actually some of the best sex of your life. It leaves a giant hole in your chest though.

You tell him no kissing, and he actually looks like he might cry, but if he can't kiss your lips he's kissing every other part of you. He treats you like an actual partner. The way he caresses your body burns from how soft it is and the way he whispers about how much he loves you and can't live without you makes you want to cry.

You just want him to fuck you and get it over with, but, the bastard, decides that for the first time during your last time he'll actually treat you like a lover.

When it's all finished Ran lays with you for an hour. You're turned away from him waiting for him to just leave. "This it then? You ain't got shit to fuckin' say to me?"

Fighting back tears you nod. This was a mistake. You can tell from the tone in his voice.

He leans in real close right above your ear and whispers; "You're never gonna have someone like me, you'll never find what we have again. I'm gonna make sure of it, Y/N."

When he finally goes he slams the door behind him and everything in the apartment rattles with the force of it.

And you lie awake that night in fear and heartbreak because you know Ran meant what he said.

It's months before you feel normal again, you've got this weird pit in your stomach that someone's watching you and at night you can feel eyes while you sleep. Things disappear from your apartment and you're starting to feel paranoid.

But eventually your friends convince you its all in your head. Soon you start going out again and trying to meet people.

Keyword trying. It's always one date and then they ghost you, you can't even get a hookup. Maybe people can tell you have too much baggage.

Finally in desperation you go out to a bar. You've got an itch and you're hoping at least one stupid fling will officially make you move on from Ran Haitani.

You meet someone and you're too drunk to care what he looks like, you don't care that his cologne is so pungent it makes you wanna gag, you don't care that he's not even going to take you to a love hotel he's just got you in an alley, you don't care that it's not Ran.

His lips are on your neck and you close your eyes. You try to picture a handsome man, maybe an idol you saw on TV but that doesn't help at all. You pray to god he just finishes quickly but then thankfully you don't feel his lips on your skin.

For one blessed second you hope he lost interest and just left you alone. But when you open your eyes you see a literal ghost.

You almost don't recognize him with his hair dyed and cut so short but its... Ran Haitani.

He's on top of the man beating him to death. The sickening sound of his fists hitting bloodied wet skin is resonating in the alley way.

You can't even stutter out one word too terrified and shocked at the sight before you. Ran has never looked this way before. Just a snarl on his face and his eyes wide and crazed.

When he's done, after the other man has stopped making any noise, dear god is he dead, he looks at you. His eyes are blood red and unfocused. His whole body is shaking but he stumbles towards you on unsteady legs.

Finally, you get your senses a little too late, You try to make a run for it but he's grabbing you and shoving you against the wall. His bloody hands on either side of your face looking you dead in the eyes.

You get a good look at him, the hair isn't the only thing that's changed he doesn't look like he's slept in weeks.

"That's fuckin' it, Y/N," he whispers, voice cracking, "Thats enough, no more of this breakup shit. You hear me, Y/N? DO YOU FUCKIN' HEAR ME?"

You nod, frantically. Tears streaming down your face. You're shaking too scared to fight back.

"Fuckin' cheating. Never thought you would baby, can't believe you'd do this me." He holds you tight in a hug the blood all over him smearing on you as well.

"My own fault. Should'a stuck by closer. You needed the attention, my own fuckin' fault." he kisses the side of your head and you can barely breath with how tight he's holding you.

"Shaking like a leaf. Fucker scared you. He got what he deserved, touchin' you like that. Pretty baby."

You're shivering and sniffling because Ran is what's scaring you, but you don't dare tell him that with his deranged rambling.

"I'll do better, baby, I'll treat you good this time. No one's gonna take you from me..."

Darkness fills your vision and you realize that Ran just knocked you out. Before you're completely unconscious you hear him say something he's only ever said once or twice.

"I love you..."

#yandere ran haitani #yandere tokyo revengers #yandere ran haitani smut #yandere tokyo revengers smut #ran haitani #ran haitani scenarios #ran haitani headcanons #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x y/n

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elenadvrx · 4 months

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this idea popped up while i was writing kenma’s piece. enjoy this little side story! ◡̈

———————————————————————————

"you losers are just jealous i got someone to love. now let's get our loot back to the ship, we don't got much time left." kenma's voice seeped through kuroo's speakers.

kuroo glanced back to his bed, where you were lying down on your front as you watch him play with his friends. he winked and blew you a kiss, to which you softly chuckled at his cheesy actions.

your relationship with kuroo has only been 6 months, but the both of you knew each other ever since middle school - well, you, kuroo and kenma. kenma would probably look at you in disbelieve when he finds out you and kuroo got together.

heck, even you didn't think that you would like the loud cackling, chemistry nerd years down the road.

you initially came over his house to hang out together as he had been busy with work for the past few days until kenma messaged him to play a game together. he refused at first, choosing to focus solely on you, but you insisted it was okay for him to play because if it was days since he last spend time with you, it was weeks since he last met his friends.

"hey! i did just saved kenma with a shovel!" albeit his friends do like to tease him a lot.

you were contented to silently admire his side profile, his back muscles straining against his t-shirt with every movement, appreciating everything about him that you missed while he was away.

"i can feel you staring, you know that?" kuroo remarked, not moving his eyes from the screen.

"yeah? well you do look exceptionally handsome today. i feel like i need to take a bite of you. can't believe i have a fine specimen as my boyfriend." you grinned at him when you notice a faint pink hue on his cheeks. while kuroo usually does the complimenting and pick-up lines, he does has his moments where he feels bashful when you were the one doing it instead.

kuroo just grumbles incoherently, probably trying to rebutt your comments.

chuckling, you slowly approach your boyfriend from behind, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and gave a nip on his earlobe. kuroo flinched but you didn't miss the slight shiver he emitted from his lithe body.

conscious of his mic, you pressed soft kisses along his jaw, down the slope of his neck, his nape, nipping it as well. kuroo gulped audibly, trying to restrain from making any noise. feeling extra bold, your hands travelled down from his shoulders to his chest, shamelessly caressing his pecs (where the hell did he find time to work out?)

"stop it, baby." but it was a weak attempt at stopping you from further showering him with affection despite the risk of his friends listening.

"hmm? stop what?" you've now walked around him to gently plop yourself down on his lap comfortably. it was so cute when you noticed how flushed his face was that you couldn't resist giving him a kiss. before he deepens the kiss, you pull away, laughing when he chases your lips.

"you fiend." kuroo playfully glares at you through his lashes. you only wink in response.

“kuro." kenma's voice broke through the bubble you and kuroo were in. "please don't tell me you were doing what you were doing, and with who you were doing it with."

both of you froze, temporarily forgetting he was in the middle of a game.

"uh-uhm." he clears his throat. "yeah? no, i mean no. i wasn't doing anything with anyone."

[you got disconnected from the game]

ding

"traitors. both of you. i hope you both fall into a pit and never get out. can't believe my own childhood friends got together without telling me. choke."

although you do feel guilty for keeping it a secret, you can't help but to laugh at kenma's messages as kuroo let out a sigh and rest his forehead on your shoulder.

"glad you find this funny." he peeked up at you, bottom lip jutting out a little.

"well at least he knows now." you pecked his nose.

"don't think you can get away from doing what you did just now, missy!"

you quickly got up from his lap to run, but you couldn't possibly outrun his long limbs and got caught just before you reached his bedroom door.

squealing, you were tugged back into his embrace before being lifted up and tossed to the bed. he quickly crawled over you, effectively trapping you against the bed. "now where were we?"

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsurou fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo imagines

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public-trans-it · 1 month

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i was a trans man until after a lot of build up of doubting myself, i finally realized that we are putting ourselves further into boxes by not accepting that we are the biological sex that we are and we can do WHATEVER we want at the same time.

clothes and makeup and certain interests do not equal gender.

and not liking being a woman is an unfortunately natural symptom of puberty and/or experiencing society’s deeply ingrained misogyny. and everyone deserves support for those problems.

but we can all fight together against gender social constructs in a healthy way without prescribing people hormones and invasive cosmetic surgery to make them more like the sex they “should” be according to… social constructs…. and help them be comfortable in who they are

Alright. Its been like 9 fucking months that I have been staring down this ask. What better time than to give TERFs some nuance than right in the middle of a fucking hate campaign going on where people (well... singular person probably) are calling me a TERF. This wont backfire.

This post arrived in my inbox shortly after I made another post about gender, and just how fucking weird it can be, and how I genuinely believed every single person on this planet has a fascinating relationship with gender, and so much nuance and personal identity in theirs. Even cis people. Even TERFs. In the tags, I even begrudgingly encouraged TERFs to talk about their gender on that post if they wanted. I genuinely think that TERFs do have really cool relationships with gender. As I mentioned in those tags, the quickest way to explode a group of TERFs is to get them to start talking about their own relationships with gender, and see how vastly different it is, and watching them stab each other in the back over it. So I told them to ramble away about how they view gender, as long as they stayed the fuck away from the rest of the blog WHICH THIS ANON CLEARLY FUCKING IGNORED.

But... this anon does bring up another topic I want to talk about.

Detransition.

I am a huge supporter of detransitioning. This is... surprisingly... not a very common stance in the trans community, and it breaks my fucking heart. Like, I get it. I understand why. A LOT of detransitioners, like the person in this ask, end up weaponizing their feelings of gender against other trans people.

My support of transition comes from the intersection of two very central beliefs of mine:

Everyone should explore their gender without feeling a need to commit! This is a pretty common belief in the trans community! Damn near universal in fact! We even have a fun little term we use for people who decide to play around with gender, only to end up a bit closer to where they started and being perfectly happy with that: Cis+. Someone who is cis, but at least put in the work to understand the trans experience, and actually CHOOSE to remain Cis instead of just defaulting to it with societal pressure. Many trans people are much more comfortable around 'Cis+' people, because they know these are people who have taken the time and put in the work of being an ally. Self examination isn't easy, especially not publicly, and doing so is genuinely one of the strongest ways a Cis person could ever show their support.

It is never too late to transition. This is also a pretty common belief in the trans community! It is... sadly not quite as universal though. But it is something very important that needs to be said. You could be 80 years old, sitting in a retirement home, and go "You know what? I think I'd rather wear a dress and be treated like a lady. I don't want to be buried as a man." And I think every single trans person should have that freedom!

I was discussing this with @thydungeongal the other day, far more paraphrased than this post, and she said something incredible that has been knocking around in my head ever since.

"Gender is an ongoing process"

Those five words they said to me sum up my feelings far more than this entire post could. Gender IS an ongoing process. My gender has changed SO MUCH over the past three decades. From the straightjacket of assigned gender that I was once forced into; to the very stylish and still lovable finely tailored suit of femininity that grew a little too stuffy to wear constantly, even though I do still enjoy it and try it on from time to time; to the wonderful and freeing losely fitting clothing of being aegogender, finally feeling free to be myself and just act naturally and feel natural without having to keep up an appearance!

And I think, there is no length of time you can try out being trans, and trying out new genders, before eventually coming to the realization you were cis all along. Even if you started HRT. Even if you got SRS. Heck, I don't even think you should have to call yourself trans to do either of those things in the first place, why would I be upset that someone did them and then realized they weren't trans? No single moment in your life should EVER lock your gender in place into some unchanging, set in stone thing.

So I support detransitioners completely, with my entire heart. They deserve just as much support as every other 'Cis+' person out there.

So anon, while many people may hate you and lash out at you for detransitioning, I want you to know, that I am not one of them. It sounds like your detransition might have been forced by peer pressure, which is heart breaking to hear. No one should ever force their own gender expectations on another. I hope that wasn't the case. I hope you came to the decision yourself, after realizing whats right for you. I will never give you hate for your detransition.

I WILL ABSOLUTELY GIVE YOU HATE FOR BEING A FUCKING TERF THOUGH. YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE WITH GENDER DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO POLICE THE GENDER OF OTHERS, FUCK OFF. GET THE FUCK OFF MY BLOG, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!

#I think I'm gonna start doing that for Read Mores #so you can find your place easier after click it #since my 'style' in these long posts is like... a fairly longish NON-readmore post. followed by the actual readmore. Let me know if it work #text essay #gender #detransition #I uh... also have some more... complex feelings of detransitioning #that may be a LIIIIIIITTLE more controversial.........#none of it goes against what i said here #its more personal stuff with my own gender and how detransition specifically is something that exists not as gender itself #but as the societal perceptions of a persons gender #but thats a more complex topic that I'll add on to this at another date #also I am absolutely taking this ask at face value for the sake of this post #but I am not so naive as to believe that the blatant TERF that sent it was being genuine #this is ABSOLUTELY the kind of thing they send people to drive a wedge in the community #I'm not even going to fucking dignify that part of it with any mention in the body of this post #edit: ........... okay the readmore accidentally moved somehow #I fixed it now though

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ravenstargames · 2 months

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✦ Lost in Limbo Devlog #9 | 02.29.24

What is this?! Two devlogs in one month?! More likely than you think! This February has been very productive for me and the team, so let's dive right into it!

Ooooh boy, Raquel keeps knocking it out of the park! She managed to get done every expression for every LI, and I coded them all! Now we have our wonderful characters ready for their debut. We have been using the wonderful Image Tools for Ren'py made by the talented and hard-working Feniks, whose tutorials and resources save a lot of dev's lives every day! This tool has made everything a bit easier for newbies like me, hehe.

Here's a taste of our edgelord's expressions! 💜 They're kind of a cutie when they put some effort into it!

We also had our second valentine's day celebration art piece thanks to Kayden! Sadly with the reworked version of the demo, you won't meet Vycar yet, so we thought we could ask for his forgiveness by giving him a beautiful bouquet and reminding him how much of a sweetheart he is! 💜

Also, Raeya got a hair update!

So, we weren't completely satisfied with the way we portrayed Raeya's hair, so this has been a rework we were sure we wanted to make. At first we were just going to render it again, but we ended up working on it from scratch to better represent what we envisioned for her. We hope you like it as much as we do! ; v ;💜

As always, we are open to any critique or advice; we are white people who have the luck to be able to ask POC friends for their advice as we work, but the more the merrier! Don't hesitate to send us your opinion to our ask box or even our email, [email protected]!

When it comes to the background department, we have been making great progress thanks to Airyn, who is honestly leaving us with our mouths hanging open every time! Thanks to her, another background has been finished and another one is in the making, leaving only two backgrounds to be revised and approved!

I personally can't stop looking at this WIP! She understood perfectly what we wanted to portray just by looking at an old WIP we had, and this is what we have so far—and it's already amazing!

Allie has been OBLITERATING the script. As of today, I think we have almost gone through everything that needed to be corrected and discussing, and lord if the script doesn't look a 100% better after we put it in Allie's hands. The way she writes, the way she understands everything I want to say even when sometimes I don't even know myself—what a talented, inspiring and amazing writer they are. I know I may sound annoying at this point singing her praises endlessly, but if the script is in the state where it is now, it's thanks to her!

My programming adventure of the month has been a success, if I say so myself! I've coded the characters with aaaaall their layers, their expressions, the blinking animations, made some videos, and started coding the script. Step by step as they say; I've coded 18 pages, and there's, uh...142 more to go. Haha! *sobs*

BUT WE ARE GETTING THERE! We can see the light at the end of the tunnel! I can finally click 'new game' and read the script and see the stuff going on! YAY!

Some extras of the month—we are preparing a Casting Call to choose the voice acting talent that will hopefully give voice to our characters. The demo won't be fully voiced (it's impossible with the funds we have, which are...zero), but if we are lucky we'll use some of our personal savings to pay for at least a few lines for each character so you can get an idea of how they'll sound if we get funded! Raquel is preparing an art piece for the announcement, and I'm getting the document ready and asking fellow VA friends for advice :3.

Also, we have a new member here at Ravenstar Games! Some weeks ago Astro and I formally adopted our first kitty, 8 month old Riki, fulfilling one of our dreams. We got him from a feline association that works with volunteers and fosters cats who have been abandoned, cats they find on the street, and so on. Riki has been living with me since January, and he's a happy, long big boy who loves playing, cuddles, and sitting on my desk while I try to work!

Say hi to the Ravenstar family, Riki! 💜

A productive month full of accomplished milestones, excitement and new challenges! The team has worked so hard, and I've done my part too! We still don't want to get ahead of ourselves, but we have done a lot of stuff we were sure we wouldn't finish yet, and look at that! We are doing so well!

As you can probably tell, my batteries are starting to run low, so I'm going to leave this devlog here. Thank you all like always for cheering us on, for being here in this journey with us, and for all the love you send our way. Let's hope March is as amazing as February has been, for us and for all of you! 💜

#lost in limbo #visual novel #otome #indiedev #devlog

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

Illicit Affairs | Chapter VII: Hoax

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: Tensions erupt when Neteyam confronts you about something he saw. His secret comes out at the worst time, leaving you both in pieces.

Warnings: (a little) smut (18+, Minors DNI), angst, mentions of blood mentions of death, injury, pills, pill addiction, opioid addiction, disease, cursing, some fluff + all the feels.

Word Count: 9,5k words (holy mother)

A/N: This is it, guys! Where tensions explode and secrets come come out, hearts are bound to be broken. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I put everything into it. I cried whilst writing it, I laughed whilst writing it, pretty sure I experienced the full spectrum of human emotions whilst doing this. Also, I have ignored my actual work to finish it, so if I fail my annual progression review, at least it would have been worth it. Let me know what you think, and as always, thank you for everyone who is reading is and asked to be tagged <;3

"My only one, my kingdom come undone My broken drum, you have beaten my heart Don't want no other shade of blue, but you No other sadness in the world would do"

“There are perks with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.”

Fuck.

“Lo’ak… be serious.”

“I am serious, Angel. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember. You have always been the only one to see me for more than just a freak, or a fuck-up, or a disappointment. You see me.”

The younger Sully boy gently cupped you face in his hand; he was caressing your cheek with his thumb. Using a little force, he willed your face upwards so you could look up at his face; you were surprised to see the intensity in his eyes.

You placed your hand on his arm, and you hoped by slowly massaging it, it would relax him enough to soften your following words.

“Lo’ak… I do see you. You are an incredible person. You have been there for me my whole life, and I will be forever grateful to you. You have been the only one who constantly chose the dark stuffy lab to the beauty of this world because the labs had me in it, you were closest to my mum and she loved you like you were her own. I think you are the most amazing guy there is and I think your mate will be the luckiest girl there is. But that’s not me, Lo’ak. You know that can’t be me.”

His hand dropped from your face and both of his hands took yours in them, squeezing them ardently.

“But it is you. It has to be you.”

“Kehe (no). Lo’ak, you are my best friend. I am your best friend. I love you so much, and I know you love me too, but the love we have for each other is not the kind of love one needs to be mated for life.”

You spoke softly, looking at him pleadingly, hoping that he would understand your words in the way that you intend them. You can see his gaze drop and form deflate, being replaced by a meek one, a shadow of his former self.

“Oh… I see.” He was now turning his back to you, trying to leave without looking you in the eye. You were not going to let that happen.

“I’m not letting you leave.” You say, keeping his hands tightened in yours. “We will talk about this, and you will recognise I am right.”

Neteyam was having trouble seeing as he was manoeuvring his way through the forest. He felt sick to his stomach and every heartbeat sent waves of hurt through his entire body, like shards of glass gutting him from inside out. How could his own brother do this? How could you do this? He has spent more than two months with you, every day, sending touches and glances your way that were begging to be seen, begging to be acknowledged. He secretly prayed that you would call him out on it, give him a reason to finally tell you that he’s loved you since he was 10 and yearned for your touch since the second his eyes fell on you again after a whole year apart. He wanted you to finally give him a reason to tell everyone to fuck off and let him finally live his life by his own rules, with you by his side.

Neteyam was shaking with tempestuous fury at the unfairness of it all. Lo’ak will always get everything just handed to him on a silver platter, won’t he? Freedom, to make his own choices, to live his life as he wished, carelessly and devoid of any forethought or responsibility. And now he got you, the woman of his dreams - and nightmares - and the future he used to fantasise would one day be his.

His legs were moving without any conscious input from his mind, and before long, he found himself on the way to the clearing you and him used to go to all the time. Your place, just for his and your eyes to see, just for his and your hearts to experience. As he was nearing, he heard soft sounds emerging from the spot, and he slowly, carefully approached with a bow at the ready and all his senses heightened.

“We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar…

I rent a place on Cornelia Street, I say casually in the car…”

Soft strumming and the most beautiful voice he has ever heard, a voice that he would recognise anywhere, for the rest of time, made him drop the bow he was gripping tightly. That song, Neteyam thought with a wince, and let himself remember.

“This piece of heaven is our Cornelia Street.”

“What’s Cornelia Street?”

“Well, it’s a place back on Earth where one of her houses used to be, but in this case, it’s a metaphor. Cornelia Street is to them what this clearing is to us.”

A month before your 17th birthday is the last day Neteyam saw you. He was coming to say goodbye. You didn’t know that, and, in your enthusiasm at seeing him after such a long time because of his training, or so he told you, you suggested coming here. Neteyam remembers everything about that day. He didn’t sleep that night, cried himself to sleep quietly in his family’s tent thinking of the possibility of not seeing you again, for a long time, perhaps forever. He had decided that his mum was right. Being around you was hurting you both, and maybe by leaving, both of you could heal and move on. He wouldn’t have to live with causing you more pain than you already had to deal with, and you wouldn’t have to go outside, something that you were only doing for him, it seemed. It was a win-win, he thought, and yet his heart was torn apart, coming apart at the seams of wounds that barely healed.

You were sitting on the ground, resting your back on a rock by the river bank, with the same guitar in your hands you have had since you were young. Neteyam thought he probably heard thousands of songs being played on that guitar, countless hours laying just like he was now, hearing you sing. He did not like humans, could not understand them, their world, their traditions, their beliefs, but watching you strum that guitar and singing about your love, a love neither of you could ever say out loud except in this way, he realised humans did some things right. Humanity did you right.

“We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home”

Neteyam watched you intently, and was trying to assimilate the lyrics as best he could, knowing this was always your preferred method of communication, knowing that through these songs you are confessing your true, buried desires. You looked at him as you sang, giving him a big smile.

“And I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again”

A year and a half later, inhabiting a new body, you were not smiling anymore as you were playing this, the strumming on the guitar slower and more sorrowful, and your voice sounded hoarse, like you had been crying. Neteyam couldn’t believe that you would come here, in his and your secret place and sing the song you silently confessed your feelings to, after what he saw. He felt his anger poison his body, as his heart picked up pace and made his heartbeat ring painfully in his ears, muffling the sound of your voice.

“I never did walk Cornelia Street again after that day, you know? I kept my promise.”

Neteyam freezes in place, a shocked expression marring his features. You heard him, even with your back to him, even while playing and with the soft hum of the river to dull your senses, you knew. Felt him, his presence that charged this clearing like the air before lighting strike. He, however, does not seem to hear the hint of sadness in your voice, nor the sniffling that accompanies it.

“It took me a while to figure out you weren’t going to come back. It did not dawn on me right away. I thought you were just training hard, as you had been for years at that point, I didn’t think anything of it. I only figured it out a month after I played you this song, when my birthday came and you didn’t show. I waited all day. Way past eclipse, way past the point everyone else was gone and sleeping peacefully, I waited. I didn’t sleep that night. I was afraid I was going to miss you and no one would be able to let you through the door. It never occurred to me you wouldn’t show - not until the dawn of the next day. That’s when it hit.”

“I remember singing you this song, I was terrified. I mean, we talked around it all of our lives, I sang you songs, and I read you poems, and you’d sleep in my bed and let me attach myself to you in a way no friend ever would. But this song, I thought, would be the one. The one that would make us finally have to talk through it. The night before, I had watched an episode of Gilmore Girls, right? And it’s that episode when Dean pitches up at Rory’s school after she drops him hints that she’s in love with him, and he gets mad for one reason or another and then she screams at him “I love you, you idiot!”. And he drops all the stuff he was holding and rushes to her and kisses her, like really kisses her. And I remember thinking, I’m going to sing you this song, and this will be my “I love you, you idiot” moment.”

Neteyam walked slowly towards your form that was still turned around from him, and felt two forces tugging at him, ripping him apart. On one hand, there was the rage, and jealousy, the monster that wanted to scream at you, to hurt you for breaking his heart without even acknowledging it. On the other, there was deep sadness and grief, for the new information that he is receiving, for knowing what this meant to you, what he did to you, how he left you the day that you confessed, how that only strengthened his resolve. He didn’t know which was going to win.

“I never had any expectations. I was never delusional enough to think that you would ever choose me. But I did have dreams. And in the dreams, you told me you loved me too, and that whatever it was, we would always be able to work through it together. That day after my birthday, I felt like something ripped apart in me that I’ve never recovered from. I’ve lost so much of myself throughout the years, every time something new came up. I’ve been in pieces, broken and shattered, my whole life, and yet somehow you managed to walk away with the biggest piece. Because I could never put you in a drawer at the bottom of my desk, like all my other pieces. You were never truly gone, you were just far enough that I could never reach you, but near enough that I could never heal. I mourned you, mourned the me that you took with you, every day for months. Losing you broke me, Neteyam. You broke me. I will never forgive you for that night.”

“Well I guess we’re both fucking disappointed with each other then.”

Neteyam saw you shoulders hunch even more than they were and your head bow towards the ground. You hand raised to your cheeks and wiped something off your face, before you finally stood up and and turned around, facing him. Neteyam’s breath caught in his throat at the new sight. Your eyes were puffy and red, and tears marked your cheeks, so pronounced it was as if they would stain your face forever.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He felt his own tears threatening to spill then, pricking at his eyes painfully, begging to be released. There was so much pain inside of him, pain you caused him, pain for the hurt he knew he caused you, pain that felt like it will never diminish.

“You’re sitting here, talking about that night and this song, in this place that once meant so much to us, after giving yourself to another man, to my fucking brother, and you want me to feel bad?”

He saw your face slowly register his words, as if you were mulling over every word carefully, turning it in your mind, and saw how your face went from sad to cold and unflinching and a shiver ran down his spine. You rose an eyebrow at him, an expression only he seemed to have the power to coax out of you.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me. I saw you. I saw you in the forest, his hands all over you, I saw you running your hand up and down his arm. I’ve known he has been sneaking in your tent for weeks. What are you doing with my baby brother in your tent late at night, Y/N?”

FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE II: ANGER

“You honestly have some fucking nerve, Neteyam.”

“You do not get to come here, come to this place, or any place for that matter and demand an explanation from me. I don’t owe you anything. You fucking left, Neteyam! We’re nothing to each other. Whatever claim or right you might have had once to ask anything of me or from me is long gone.”

Neteyam stalked towards where you were standing, your words echoing in his mind. He was mad, mad at you for what you did, but also mad at himself. Because he knew you were right. He had no right to come here after abandoning you and the relationship you two had and be angry that you moved on. And yet he was.

He was so close to you now he could feel your breath fanning over his face as you looked up at him, panting with anger, lips slightly opened. He couldn’t help look at them, those lips he has dreamed about for years, the way they’d feel on him, their taste… your taste. It was driving him insane, being so close to you, knowing what he knew.

“Why? Why Lo’ak? You could have picked anyone else.”

You chuckled bitterly. “Really? So if I picked Akoa or Tärze, you wouldn’t be here right now, wouldn’t be mad and looking at me like somehow I betrayed you?”

“Or is it possible it doesn’t actually matter who it is, it’s not the fact that it’s Lo’ak… it’s the fact it’s not you.”

“You see, I think deep down you know it should have been you. I think deep down it kills you that you are not in my tent late at night. You’re not the one that gets to touch me.” he felt your hand place over his bare chest and run it down his abdomen until it reached his red loin cloth, which you slightly tugged at. He felt his cock twitch in response.

You don’t know what came over you. You came here to mourn, still reeling after your conversation with Lo’ak. You never expected to see him here, hear his presence while you sang the song that once signified hope and love, and now is just a bitter reminder of all you’ve lost. You definitely never expected him to question you over Lo’ak, or be so angry over something that would never happen anyway.

You were furious with him, furious that he never told you how he felt for you, and now he was clearly showing it to you by his displays of anger and jealousy. This was not how this was supposed to go.

You felt a sick satisfaction at his demeanour. You made him like this, this angry, nose flared and panted breaths, you had this power over him. Just the thought of you with another man drove him to this point, and you loved it. He deserved it, deserves much worse.

“You should leave, Neteyam.”

You started turning your back to him, but he took hold of your arm and kept you in place forcefully. His other hand went to your neck, and you felt him wrapping his hand around it and squeezing.

“No.”

You were shocked at his actions, and even more shocked at the immediate reaction your body had to him. You felt throbbing deep within you, and squeezed your thighs tightly together to accommodate for the feeling.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me. Did you fuck my brother, Atan (light)?”

He was still squeezing your throat, and you felt your pulse quickening when he moved and took a hold of you jaw, forcing you to look in his eyes. He looked mad, sad, desperate for an answer that would either mend or break him. You felt his intense stare in every cell in your body and felt yourself clench around nothing.

You wanted to lie, wanted to see him suffer at least some of the hurt he’s caused you. But you couldn’t, not with how he was looking at you, not with how he was holding you.

“Fuck you, Neteyam. I would never do that. Fuck you for thinking for a second that something like would ever even cross my mi-“

It wasn’t possible for you to finish the sentence, as his lips roughly slammed against yours, and you immediately, as if your body needed no input from your mind, raised your hands to the circle around his neck, pushing him closer to you.

You moaned into the kiss, and the sound removed any ounce of sanity or self-discipline from his being, and he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue over your bottom lip, begging for permission.

He felt his hand drop back around your throat, squeezing, loving the feel of your quickened pulse, knowing he was responsible for it, for your swollen lips and dilated pupils, for the way you were squeezing your thighs together. You were his, to love, to touch, to do whatever he wanted to.

He was so hard now, his loincloth was constricting around him painfully, and he knew if he kept going, he was not going to able to stop himself until you were writhing underneath him, until he made you beg and scream his name over and over, all night long.

“Pathfinder, this is Devil Dog, come in, over.”

Fuck.

Your body ached at the loss of contact, as Neteyam removed his hand from around your throat and his lips from your own. He was panting, and tried to steady himself before he touched the little button on the radio on his neck, sighing deeply.

“I’m here, Devil Dog. What’s your post? Over.”

You turned your back to him, and took a few steps towards the river, trying to compose yourself. What the fuck did I just do? This was bad, for so many reasons, it was making you dizzy just counting them all. You couldn’t hear what Jake was saying to Neteyam, but it couldn’t have been good, it was very rare Jake would use the radio to communicate with his kids, you’ve only seen it once when there was a hunting accident that needed everyone’s attention.

“You need to get back to the village, now. We have a situation. If Y/N is with you, bring her back, too. Over and out.”

Shit, this can’t be good, Neteyam thought to himself. He looked over at you and saw you turned your back to him, hiding. You were good at that, pretending, denying, avoiding. Pushing your feelings aside was your favourite defence mechanism, had been ever since your mum died.

His eyes softened and he felt stupid for having doubted you, for spending so many weeks losing sleep over something that never even happened. Guilt also immediately pooled in his gut from the kiss, the confession, the implications of it, all of which things he would have to deal with sooner or later. The horror at the thought of the consequences of his actions made his skin crawl, but he didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, knowing his dad expected them to hurry.

“Hey… we have to get back, dad said to meet him in the village.”

You nodded weakly in his direction, and started making your way towards the village. Once again, he found himself having to clasp your arm by your wrist and turn you around so you could face him. You refused to look at him, so he cupped your face in his hand and raised you head gently so you could look at him. His thumb was ghosting over your lips, that were still swollen and when his eyes met yours, he saw a sadness so deep it made Pandora’s oceans feel like shallow pools.

“We need to talk, properly talk.”

You just nodded silently and removed his hand from your face, and the last thing he saw was your back, walking away.

You were deep in thought as you arrived in the village, and were pulled out of your musings when you saw a big commotion happening all around you. You have never seen the village like this.

There was a crowd of people by the big bonfire, so that’s where you and Neteyam figured to look first.

“…and no matter what comes next, we will stand and fight, together!” You heard big screams and ululating as Jake’s voice boomed throughout the village, above all the noise.

You saw Norm and Max, all the humans and avatars on the right of the Olo’yektan. On his left stood Mo’at, Neytiri and all their children, plus Spider. Lo’ak was screaming and beating his chest, whilst Kiri looked concerned, and Tuk was almost crying, with a tight grip on her mum’s hand. You made your way through the mass of people, reaching the foot of the large tree stump acting like a platform. Jake spotted you and helped you up, and you saw Neteyam following you from the corner of your eye.

Since the speech was done, people started dissipating, and Jake turned his attention to the pair of you.

“Last night, Neytiri and I spotted a star in the night sky that shone brighter than it ever had before.”

Panic rose in your chest at his words, words that you knew could only mean one thing. “The humans are returning.” you said, meekly.

Jake nodded in your direction with anger flashing across his face, before he composed himself.

“We knew this day was coming, but it is definitely different when it is finally happening than the image you had in your head.” you heard Norm pitch in from somewhere behind Jake.

“How long?” Neteyam asked.

“About a week?” Max said, and the man with such a kind and gentle face was scared, you realised sadly. Everyone was scared.

“Fuck.” Neteyam’s face was unreadable. The war he trained all his life for was finally on his doorstep.

“I need you to complete your Iknimaya before then. Tomorrow, you will go perform your first kill. You are more than ready. It’s time. When the humans come, I need you with me. With us.”

You couldn’t swallow the lump that has formed in your throat enough to speak, so you just nodded. You were not ready. The last time you were on an Ikran, you almost died. You felt the phantom pain on your left leg flare up, and you were terrified at the prospect of another flashback triggering as you were fighting for your life on top of the Hallelujah mountains, trying to make the bond.

The crowd eventually dispersed and everybody went back to their homes. There was a heaviness in the air, no smiles or singing tonight, no communal dinner where people animatedly exchange stories and anecdotes; you saw Na’vi hugging their loved ones, keeping them close at all times, as if letting go would mean letting go forever. The war was upon you, and with it, the possibility of loss and grief settled in the bones of every one of the villagers.

You felt sick to your stomach. A shiver ran through your entire body, and, at the weakness that enveloped your being suddenly, you knew the effects of all the pills you took to mitigate your symptoms have worn off. The dizziness you felt was more than just a weak headache you could ride out, but a sign your human body was fighting to maintain the neurolink inside the pod. You didn’t have much time.

“I’m gonna go to bed. See you all tomorrow.” You needed to be in your tent when you passed out, otherwise it would raise suspicion immediately and you couldn’t afford that.

“Hey, you can’t leave. We still need to talk.” Neteyam said, lightly tugging at your arm.

“Not today, Neteyam.” You removed your limb from his grasp and left without giving him a second look.

You were pulled out of the linkpod quite violently by your own body recoiling in agony. You felt a stupid ping of gratefulness at the fact that, although due to horrible news, at least no one was in the lab or adjacent hubs at the current moment. You struggled to get up, and found the walk back to your room excruciating, like no matter how much you walked, it was not anywhere in sight. When you arrived, you went straight to the bathroom and barely managed to make it to the toilet before throwing up, your body violently convulsing in on itself, trying to expel everything from your body. You haven’t had a proper meal in this body in months, so all your body was managing to get rid of was bile, bitter and acidic on your tongue.

When you were done, you pushed your body weakly towards the sink, and gargled the bad taste away with some water and mouth wash. You peered up at the mirror, and were alarmed by the face that met your gaze. You barely recognised yourself. Your face looked ghastly, the palest you have ever been, the hollows of your cheeks looking like pits of shadows and darkness.

Your under-eye bags gave away how little sleep you were actually functioning under, how little rest you actually got in the last few months. You looked truly sick, although you didn’t know how much of that was the virus and how much it was just you… ignoring your body like you ignored everything that you had to work through, everything that required healing and spiritual effort, and trading it for a easy-to-digest fantasy.

You made your way towards your bed limply and was comforted by the bottles of pills you saw on your bedside table, that will provide fleeting relief. You passed out on the bed soon after, happy that the suffering could be over for at least some hours.

You woke up a couple of hours before dawn, with a raging fever and chills running up and down your spine, and instead of struggling back to sleep, you got up slowly and put some clothes on, making your way towards the labs. Today was an important day, and you needed to be focused for it, you couldn’t afford the same thing as yesterday take place. In the medical ward, you scrambled in the drawers until you found what you were searching for. The holy grail, injectable morphine. You hastily grabbed a syringe and a needle, measured out the amount needed, shook the syringe to remove any air bubbles, and directed it to your arm, where you injected it in your vein. Placebo effect or not, you felt immediate relief, and you knew this would put you through the day.

Norm came to the linkpod to help with the neurolink, and he gave you a worried look as he watched you settle in.

“I think you should be taking a break from this.”

“Are you serious right now? The humans are literally circling the atmosphere as we speak, I can’t afford to take breaks now, you know this.”

“What I know is that you look about a week away from collapsing in my arms, and your Avatar won’t work without you, Ace. You’re always in the village, and you don’t sleep. You’re always running experiments when you are here. Look, I love your enthusiasm, and I love that you’ve finally getting outside and enjoying your life, but there’s also too much of a good thing.”

You were started to feel anger pick at your brain, much like the virus you were carrying with you everywhere you went.

“You made this for me. You made me this Avatar. You guilt tripped me into taking it. Now you’re unhappy I’m using the Avatar. Why don’t you make up your mind and let me know, Norm? In the meantime, I have to go.”

You lay in the on the pod and placed the metal frame on top of your body, and you couldn’t miss the tear that fell on Norm’s face as he closed the lid of the pod.

It was still before dawn when your consciousness woke up in the blue body you’ve come to love so much, and you couldn’t help feel immense guilt at the words you spat at Norm. He doesn’t deserve any of this; he has been a surrogate uncle for you ever since you were born. He made you an Avatar, he built you a guitar. He helped you go outside and live your life, he was always there for you if you needed to talk, or vent. He has always believed in you, in your capacity to help, to do good, to overcome your grief. You would have to apologise to him come nighttime.

You saw Jake make his way to you as you opened the flap to your tent. “Hi, kid.” Tensions were running high, you could tell, as Jake did not smile or make light conversation, as he always tended to do. He would always take the time to check in, to make sure you are doing well, which you appreciated massively. You loved having him and the rest of the family around. It felt like you belonged, for the first time in your life.

“So you, Neteyam, Akoa and Heesu will go and they will watch you perform your first kill. Early tomorrow, we will go take the Iknimaya, and then you will be able to join Neteyam on raids and scouting. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, boss.” You saw him crack a tiny smile at that, and felt better you could still make him smile, even in these circumstances.

Neteyam came out of the tent looking… so good it made your mouth fill with saliva. He was holding his bow tightly in his hands, and he was adorning new jewellery, you noted. A beautiful black necklace, filled with beads and impressive craftsmanship, his red and green cummerbund tightly wrapped around his ribcage, and his knife tucked on his hip, all came together to bring about Neteyam Te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan, the future leader of the Omaticaya. But what really drew your eye, was a bracelet. A green bracelet that he kept around his arm, whose every bead and stone was imprinted in your mind, for the rest of time. Why was he wearing that bracelet, why now? What was he trying to tell you?

Neteyam found his gaze drawn to the girl next to his dad, the only girl that existed, as far as he was concerned. He barely slept last night thinking of you, of that kiss, of your confession, of the song, and he knew he had to make it right sooner rather than later. The humans were coming, not one of them knew what their lives were going to look like in a few weeks, and there was so much to set straight, the thought made him nauseated again. He had to tell you. Your eyes found his and he saw many emotions passing through them, and was happy to see at least one of them was passion, and yearning. You looked at him like you wanted to do things Eywa would disapprove of, and he felt himself twitch in pain for what felt like the millionth time recently.

Neteyam led the pack away from the village and towards the forest where you would have to make your first kill. He had no doubt in his mind you would do well, he honestly doesn’t know why it has taken so long to do it to begin with. You’ve been ready for weeks. After stalking quietly through the forest for a couple of hours, you found a herd of Yerik. Neteyam closed his gap on you and placed a hand on your back, smiling to himself at the way you shuddered when he did.

“You’ve got this. We’ve been through this and you are ready. Remember, keep a knee on the ground for support. Good luck.”

You nodded without looking at him, eyes plastered on one of the animals peacefully grazing on a bush. He saw you, focused and determined, aiming the arrow with precision and power, and he knew then you were made for this. You were made to be here, as one of the people, you were meant to be Na’vi.

You made quick work of the kill, and immediately got up from your crouched stance and made your way to the now fatally injured Yerik. You removed your knife from where it was placed on your chest, and repeated the words he taught you weeks ago. “Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo (I See you, Brother, and thank you). Ngari hu Eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu Na'viyä hapxì (Your spirit goes with Eywa, your body stays behind to become part of the People).”

Perfect, just like he knew you would do. You were nervous, he noted, but you also seemed happy to have finally done it, after all this time training. All four of you made your way back to the village, the two men accompanying you carrying the animal by its legs. Neteyam wanted to talk to you, wanted to get you alone so he can finally tell you all the things he had to say, that he needed to say, the secret that has plagued him for weeks and that drove a wedge between him and his baby brother. Unfortunately, it seems like the universe fated you to never be alone with him again. Right after you arrived at the village, Jake took all of you to gun practice and through strategy meetings about how to plan an attack once the Sky People decelerated. Those lasted the whole day, and before he knew it, you left to your tent again, leaving him to deal with his dad on his own.

“Neteyam. Stay, I want to talk to you.”

“Yes, Senpul (dad)?”

“Did you tell her yet?”

“Not yet. I’m trying to find some time, but it seems like we are never together alone anymore.”

Neteyam saw his dad sighing heavily and was scared for the hell he knew would rain down on him sooner or later.

“Neteyam, you have to tell her. You have asked us to keep your secret, and we have. We have all participated in this, and I am getting tired of lying for you. The kids don’t want to lie to her anymore, your mother doesn’t want for this to be a secret anymore. She deserves to know.”

“You will tell her by the end of the week, or I will.”

Your body convulsed as your mind woke up in your human form, and you tried to hide it as best as you could so whoever was helping you get disconnected wouldn’t notice. To your disappointment, it was Max.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it today?”

“Good, made the first kill. Going up the Iknimaya tomorrow, which can’t say I am particularly excited about.”

“Oh, honey, you shouldn’t worry about it. It’s going to be completely different than that dreadful day. You are going to be able to control it, you will be connected to it. Plus Toruk has never been spotted this close to the banshee rookery, so there will be nothing making your Ikran nervous.”

“Yeah, guess you are right.” You said, not wanting to tell Max that rationalising it doesn’t achieve anything except making you feel stupid for being scared. “Where’s Norm?”

Max looked agitated for a second, but tried to compose himself enough to appear nonchalant about the subject. “Um, I think he’s in his room, he told me he wants to read this book he still hasn’t gotten around to, if you can believe that. He's been here for almost 19 years, you’d think there’s be nothing new to do here anymore.”

You hoped you weren’t as bad a liar as seemingly everyone you have come across recently, otherwise your illness is not as much of a secret as you’d hoped.

“He told you.”

“Yeah…”

“I was such a dick. I have to apologise. I’ll go find him.”

“Maybe give him some time? He looked really upset, and I think he just needs to lick his wounds by himself for a while.”

“I didn’t mean it, Max. I am just tired and stressed because of the Iknimaya and the humans returning, not that that’s any excuse.”

“I know, honey. He will be alright, just give it time. Time heals everything.”

You could only pray that was the case, for Norm….and for yourself.

You woke up the next morning groggy, feeling sick from your illness and sick from all the pills you ingested last night. If this was starting to be a problem, it was a problem you were gonna have to deal with later. Pandora’s box can hold a couple more issues for the time being. You made your way quietly to the medical ward and found the morphine vial you used yesterday. Withdrawing a few more millilitres, you injected yourself in the arm with it, instant relief flooding your system. You sighed happily and thought this was probably the closest you’ve ever gotten to feeling euphoric.

Your Avatar body looked ready to tackle the Iknimaya, in all new garbs and a new necklace that Kiri made for you recently, as well as Lo’ak’s visors. Tuk and Neytiri were braiding your hair fresh, so you were all ready to go by the end of the eclipse. Feeling how nervous you were, Neytiri put her hand on your heart, and looked into your eyes and she placed the last feather in your hair.

“It will be alright, ma 'ite. You have done better than any other Dream Walker ever has. Even better than the Toruk Makto. I know you are scared because of what happened in the past, but you have grown so much since then. You are such a special child, a gift from Eywa. There’s light in you no darkness can snuff out, and you were made to be one of us. Do not worry.”

You let out a small cry and hugged the woman that could have been your mother in these 9 years after you lost your own, who has loved you and protected you every chance she got, that wanted to take you in the village and raise you as one of the people, but who you pushed away out of fear, out of terror at the possibility of more loss, more pain. She never held a grudge, she never turned her back on you, even after shunning them from your life, she understood you and welcomed you back with open arms as soon as you felt ready to join them. She saw you. You will never be able to repay her kindness.

“We’ll be with you. Kiri and I will fly and bring Tuk on one of our Ikrans. Spider, Lo’ak, Neteyam and Jake will come on their Pa’li with you and make the climb. It will be good practice for them. We all want to celebrate with you. We can all join you on your first flight, so this way it will be less scary.”

You were fully crying in the crook of her neck now, unable to believe the luck you had to having been born somewhere where the Sullys existed at the same time. There was a lot of pain in your life, but this family would always be your good karma, it seemed.

The climb was the most excruciating thing you have ever had to do. Every muscle in your body was pushed to its limits, and you were beginning to wonder how you were supposed to fight a huge animal after all of this. You understand now this is why this was the ultimate test of becoming a hunter, and why there were not many hunters in the Omatikaya. The thought brought a gust of confidence to your mind - you were doing this. You. You’ve gotten so far, further than any scientist on Pandora ever has. You grew up in a lab with severe agoraphobia and unsolved trauma and you still made it here. You will do this, because you have to. Because you’ve come so far.

It was taking every ounce of discipline to not continuously stop and stare at the beauty of the Hallelujah mountains, that you have heard so much about, but never experienced for yourself, and you realised you needed to swallow often to compensate for the dryness you felt from your mouth being stuck agape in awe at the beauteous miracle.

You found yourself peering up at Neteyam frequently throughout the climb, and thoughts about yesterday made your already drugged-out mind even airier. There was so much to think about, so much to talk about, but you couldn’t handle it right now. You couldn’t handle the consequences of that kiss and the hurt that would inevitably emerge from your star-crossed fate. You were dying. Although you didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to acknowledge the reality that your body was falling apart in front of you, it was happening. You probably had another couple of weeks before your heart gave out from all the strain the virus was putting on your whole body, just like it happened with all the other victims.

As if he could feel you, Neteyam turned around and gave you a nervous look. You wondered what he thought of everything, how he felt. Was he happy about the kiss? Did he regret it? In his defence, he has been wanting to talk to you for days and you avoided him, unable to deal with him at the moment. He will just have to be another trinket in the Pandora’s box until you finished the Iknimaya. Making it to a large suspended boulder before you, he stretched out a strong arm for you, and you took it, happy to have at least some physical contact between you. His touch has always calmed your nerves, from when you were children, and now, as adults, that still hasn’t changed.

He didn’t let go once you climbed next to him. Taking advantage of the fact you two were the last to climb, he took hold of your arm with one hand, and placed the other on your face, cupping it gently. His thumb found its way to your lips again, caressing them softly and you felt intoxicated from his touch. He brought his face close to yours and brought your foreheads together, breathing you in. You stood like this, staring at each other for a while, and it was like all the words you wanted to say to each other were spoken wordlessly. I love you. I see you. I’m sorry.

“Are you guys coming or what?” You heard Spider screaming from a higher up boulder, and you reluctantly let go. He squeezed your arm one more time, and then motioned for you to climb in front of him. You weren’t far off now, you realised, and felt your heart picking up pace in your ribcage.

Soon enough, you were there. You could hear thousands of banshees screaming and cooing, and you thought it was mirroring your internal dialogue quite well, loud and incoherent. Neteyam held a hand in front of your body as you made your way across a narrow ledge behind a waterfall, that connected the cave to the banshee nest.

“Ok, kid. This is it. Are you ready?” Jake began speaking and you were trying to focus on him instead of the panicked feeling rising in your chest.

As you were preparing to respond, you heard loud ululating from the sky, and immediately saw two beautiful banshees making their way to the mountain and settling in the cave you just left behind. You smiled at the view, excited that Neytiri, Kiri and Tuk could make it in time. They followed you to the nest and you brought your curled fingers to your forehead, greeting them warmly. I see you.

“Good luck, sister! I cannot wait to fly with you!” Tuk’s enthusiasm never failed to bring a wide smile to your face.

You looked around at all the people who have travelled so far to come and be with you on this day. Your family, for all intents and purposes. You felt tears coming, but pushed them away with a sigh, trying to toughen your resolve. You gave one last look to Lo’ak, who was watching you sadly, the pain from yesterday still fresh in both your minds. You loved him so much, and hoped he would be able to forgive you in time. You touched his gift, now resting on your forehead, and gave him a grateful smile and a wink. He cracked a small grin and you knew then that your relationship wasn’t totally in ruins.

“This is it, Atan. Now you must choose your Ikran. If it also chooses you, move quick, like I’ve showed you. You will have one chance. I will be behind you in case you need any help. Please don’t fall off a cliff, I don’t think my heart could take it again.”

You laughed a little at his attempt of diffusing a situation. It wasn’t his best attribute.

“Ok then, let’s dance.”

Neteyam watched as you made your way through the Ikrans, and how they all flew away in fear at your sight - beautiful banshees that made him miss his own and reminisce about his own Iknimaya. You looked ready - powerful and confident, like you have always belonged here, with them. You were swinging your yìmkxa (mouth binder) and approaching each Ikran forcefully, hissing at them to hopefully provoke the right one. Eventually, a big banshee, bigger than his and most others he’s seen around, turns around to face you and does not remove itself from your path in the same way all the others had. It is a beautiful animal, white and gold with purple and pink wings and green stripes on its head, it looked different than any other in the village. Fitting, he thought. This was it.

He heard a loud hiss coming from where you were stood. The Ikran hissed back wildly and charged towards you. His heart was getting ready to exit his body at its speed and power, and he was panting in fear and anticipation, ready to jump in at any moment’s notice, in case you needed it. He saw you remove yourself quickly, skilfully, out of the animal’s way and wrap the yìmkxa around its mouth. Good, first step done.

You then took a hold of your queue and jumped on the Ikran’s back, placing your thighs around its neck and squeezing with all of your might. The Ikran wrung its neck in an attempt to escape you, but you worked on this for months preparing for this day - you were not letting go. Neteyam saw the banshee make its way towards the edge of a cliff, and you wrapped the arm that wasn’t holding the queue around its neck for more support.

Neteyam felt like he was going to pass out from the stress, and saw the next moments happen in slow motion, just like almost 7 years ago when you fell mid flight: the ikran managing to drop off the cliff, his wailing scream and immediate desire to join you, the hands of his mother and father wrapping around him keeping him in place, his own ikran dropping from a cliff at the sound of his call, him removing his parents’ hands forcefully and running towards his banshee, scrapping his arm painfully on the rock and the stabbing throb that followed, the feeling of a fresh injury and blood spilling down his arm, and yet still, no other thoughts in his mind than the need to save you, to right his past wrongs.

He makes the bond quickly and before anyone could stop him, he’s in the air, flying around the rock and beneath it, trying to see where you could be. He was shocked to find you still on your ikran, holding for dear life while the animal was flying upside down, shaking itself furiously to get rid of you. He saw you drop the arm you were using to hold on to it, only managing to hold on by the strength in your thighs, and connected the queues with a loud yell.

“STOP!” He heard you scream. “TURN AROUND, NOW!”

He couldn’t believe his eyes. You made your Tsaheylu, upside down, mid-flight. He watched as the banshee turned around and made its way back to where his family was, and he still had no words he could say to explain or describe what he was feeling in that moment. It was beyond words. He felt his arm twitching painfully and he quickly looked at it and saw the deep scratch that was leaking blood and staining his loincloth where his arm was laying.

You did it. You actually did it. This little prick came at you with all her might and you still held on to her. You learnt a lesson or two from riding a banshee as a 13 year old defenceless human, and the most important lesson was: hold on for dear life. Good to see it came in handy. You also made it a point to thank Neteyam for making you hang upside down in trees to shoot down targets, you can see now it helped. You landed at the base of the rookery and watched as every one of your family members was smiling and yelling, cheering loudly for your accomplishment. They looked so happy, and you couldn’t help shed a small tear and the sight.

These were your people, for the remainder of this short life, and you were happy you got to do this before you went. Happy you got to see them together, for you. You looked around at Neteyam and couldn’t see him, but then heard a loud, excited yelp from behind you. He looked so happy and proud, your heart swelled at the sight. This man would be the death of you, you knew. You loved him so much, and you knew it was time, time to talk through it.

“First flight seals the bond.” he screams over the noise of the banshees and the waterfall. “Let’s go.”

The entire family called for their ikrans, and in less than a minute, you were airborne. You told your banshee to fly gently and straight, and held on tightly to her neck while you tried to adjust to all these new overwhelming emotions. The feeling of flying was incredible, so much more so than you remembered. Maybe because this time you were in control. The feeling of the Tsaheylu... Lo’ak was right, it was so much stronger than the Pa’li, the connection you had with this animal. You knew you were bonded for life, shared a kinship and bond no one could break until one of you died, maybe even after. The feeling of belonging, as you watched 5 other ikran fly alongside yours and help you through your first of many adventures in the sky. You felt grateful and happy to have made it so far before the inevitable end.

You made it at the village soon after eclipse, laughing and dancing while you walked back, hand in hand with Kiri who was rolling her eyes at you but joining in anyway. Tuk was holding your other hand, and you lifted her up and carried her all the way back while she played with your braids.

As you arrived to your tent, you saw the rest of the family go into their own, with the promise you’d join after dropping all of your stuff. Neteyam stayed behind, closing his distance to you and only stopping when he was so close to you his chin was touching your forehead. It was only then you saw his arm, dried blood spilt everywhere and marring his beautiful blue stripes. His loincloth was also red, you noted, and saw the gash that was the culprit, high on his arm, still red and bleeding, although not enough to justify this much blood. It must have been bleeding for a while.

“What the hell happened to you?!” You said with a panicked voice.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

You raised and eyebrow at him and rolled you eyes, and pulled him to your tent by his uninjured arm.

“Sit. I will clean and stitch it and then we can go for dinner.”

He did as he was told, quietly sitting on the ground while you gathered supplies: some gauze, disinfectant, numbing cream, stitches and a needle driver, as well as some forceps and scissors. He squirmed at the sight, and you rolled your eyes again.

“You drive me crazy when you roll your eyes at me, you know? I would kill to be the reason your eyes roll in the back of your head at night.”

You blushed at his words, and sat next to him on the ground.

“You have to stop, Neteyam. We can’t do this again.”

You turned your focus on his wound, and began cleaning it slowly so as to not injure him further.

“I can’t stop, Atan. I can’t think of anything else. I have so much I want to say to you, so much I need to get off my chest.”

He sounded sad, desperate for you to hear him out, his eyes pleading and pained.

“How about we talk, after dinner? This time, you can be the one sneaking in my tent late at night.” you said sarcastically, not having forgotten his outburst from earlier and realising you were still angry at him for it.

“Yes, please.”

You sat in silence the rest of the time, as you worked with skilled, focused hands. You stitched his wound carefully, so as to not leave him with a scar. When you finished, you smiled up at him, and reached your hand to touch his face, moving a strand of beaded hair from it and pushing it behind his ear. He was so, so beautiful. He brought a hand to your chin and was pulling you closer, when someone entered the tent without making their presence known, making you both jolt back in shock. It was a girl. You’ve seen her before in the village, she was a healer in training. Beautiful and skilled, she was a good singer and a good craftswoman, making a lot of the clothes the Na’vi hunters wore.

“Oh, Great Mother, here you are! Your mother told me about your injury, and I had to come find you so I could help!” She kneeled down on the other side of Neteyam from where you were sitting and touched Neteyam’s chest, moving him around looking for the bleed, that was no longer there.

“Oh, it seems much better now than what was described. I guess it’s true what they say, you really are that skilled.” She turned her attention to you and smiled.

“Thank you. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

“You’re right, my bad! I’m Tiongli. Neteyam’s mate.”

It was so quiet in the room now, you were sure they could both hear your heart break into a million pieces.

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @k----a27s

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfic #neteyam avatar #avatar twow #neteyam angst #neteyam smut

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its-sixxers · 7 months

Text

Emergency Commissions (with bonus raffle!)

To make a very long story short, I was involved in a car accident one year ago and had my savings obliterated due to replacement parts for my vehicle taking 10 months to arrive and my work requiring me to drive. I thought a couple of months ago when my car was finally repaired I was in the clear, and then my car insurance bill came due and oh boy looks like I might not be making rent for October. I've taken everything but the minimum coverage off my car and am looking into selling my car and getting something older/cheaper but that takes time and bills are now.

So you, my beloved Tumblr, are getting a deal in hopes I can scratch up some scratch quickly here! I am offering the following commissions:

FAN ART GRAB BAG - $15 USD

Give me a character and I'll draw them. Suggestions for posing are welcome, the more options for me to pick from the merrier! Multiple characters multiply the price by # of characters.

CHARACTER ART - $35 USD

Do you have an OC you want drawn? I can do that! Give me references and an idea of what you'd like with them and hey presto I will give you an art.

BONUS RAFFLE

In appreciation every person who gets a commission will be entered into a raffle which will be drawn on November 5. The winner of the raffle will get a free commission of any type with a limit of 2 characters. Each commission counts as one entry, so if you get a couple done you get two entries!

Technical stuff:

Prices are in USD. Please contact me via email at [email protected] as it's much easier to keep track of everything that way than our beloved/beloathed tumblr messenger. I use PayPal invoicing - you don't need a paypal account, just an email I can send it to for you to choose your payment method of choice.

All commissions will be a colored sketch that are at least waist up - unless a preference for portrait (shoulders up) is specified. Unlike my usual commission method I will not be offering revisions or tweaks as time is of the essence (unless I miss something in the references given) - you will receive a final piece to do with as you please. Prices are based on time taken - fan art pieces will be rougher than character art pieces.

This deal will run until the end of October, but as I am also working my regular job getting all of the pieces done might run into November. I might end things earlier if I get enough commissions in to cover my shortfall so everyone can get some art in a timely fashion.

I will not draw:

Sexual content / waist down nudity

Overly detailed designs (mecha, complex tattoos - if curious ask!)

Thank you all, and stay safe out there!

#emergency commissions #commissions #fanart #artists on tumblr #art

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months

Text

My Problematic Girl-Chapter 5

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Prologue: Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery.

But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma.

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured,

“Woof.”

******

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me.

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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

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‘See you tomorrow’.

That's what she said. But she didn't come to campus again.

He doesn’t have Y/N's phone number; even if he did, he doesn’t want to know where she is.

At least walking alone on the campus gives him peace of mind. Steve went to the storage building behind the art faculty building. He wants to reorganize the painting that he put in storage.

The purpose of the storage is to put the students' artwork, but nobody ever uses it. Except for Steve, his apartment doesn’t have enough space to put all his artwork. So the storage became his studio.

Oasis is a perfect word to describe it. The only place he could be free.

He types the code to open the door; one of the most incredible things about Stark University is its security system.

Steve pushed the door to see his favorite place, but instead, what he saw was…

Nothing.

"Urgh." He wants to pass out. Steve grabbed the asthma inhaler from his bang to his mouth to breathe.

What the heck is going on here?

Before he could think clearly, he got a text message from an unknown number that said.

"West Building. 5 Minutes."

Steve immediately sprints to the location. He could figure out who sent it because of the site. It is the chancellor's office.

That means she's there, and she took his painting.

"Hufft"

Steve was able to take a breath when he arrived.

There he saw the works that he thought had gone missing turned out to be inside the chancellor's office.

But something is different from his painting because his canvas is framed now.

It looks more beautiful than before. But who did this?

"Oh, you're here."

Steve was taken aback by his painting; he didn't realize there was a photo lighting, camera, photographer, and the last person he wanted to see.

Y/N.

Today she dressed in a light blue tweed suit with white stiletto heels. She looks different if he met her for the first time, he would probably thought she's a normal person.

Steve wants to scream at her for almost making him go insane, but he holds it in because other people are here.

"What's going on?"

"We're going to promote your painting using him." Y/N pointed her finger to the make-up table where everyone gathered.

"Tony."

Everyone near the make-up table stops what they're doing and makes way for the person who sits in the center to stand up.

Tony Stark. Steve never saw him this close. He became nervous.

"I could see why she chose you." Tony straightened his suit while walking towards Steve.

Then he pointed at one painting. "That's an amazing art piece. Why did I never see your painting in the hallway?"

So, in the Art Faculty, there's always an event where they choose one artwork from the student every month. Most of the students from his class got chosen, except Steve.

Steve answered, "Because the chosen painting is based on likes on social media. And I don't have that many friends."

"Hmm, bummer."

Tony's answer made Steve grit his teeth. It reminded him of Y/N.

"Next time, I will get the expert to judge not by popular contest. If Y/N didn't meet you, I wouldn't discover the hidden talents from my campus."

When Steve heard that, he felt giddy inside because someone famous as Tony appreciated his work.

Choosing Tony to promote his art is a good move because even though Tony is an eccentric man, he is also a trendsetter. Many wealthy men looked up to him.

They will follow in his footsteps if they see Tony's new interest, collecting Steve's art.

Steve hated to admit it, but Y/N made the best move.

Tony crossed his arms and tapped his fingers, still looking at Steve from head to toe. He sighed. "You're too skinny, and you need to have a makeover. I can't be photographed with you like this."

He waved his hand to call his secretary "Jarvis."

A man with a British accent approaches Tony, "Yes, sir."

Tony pointed at Steve and said, "Hired a trainer and stylist for this kid. Prepare him before the exhibition."

Jarvis noted on the tablet, "I will arrange it."

'Ehh?!' What did he just say? Trainer and stylist?

'CLAP!'

Tony clapped his hands, which made the photoshoot crew look at him; he smiled at them and said, "Shall we start?"

When everyone's attention move to Tony, Steve uses this chance to talk to Y/N. He grabbed his hand and said, "You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought my paintings were stolen."

Y/N touched his right chest; her sudden action made him blush. He immediately pushed her hand away.

She chuckled, amused by his reaction. "Your heart is beating normally."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes right now, Y/N. You took everything I had out of the blue without telling me."

Steve doesn't have much; his painting is his most precious treasures.

And Y/N just took all he had without asking him. Steve clenched his fist.

His anger from the past came back, and he said, "Just like your father. Brian L/N."

When he mentioned her father's name, he swore he saw Y/N lose her usual calm composure.

She turns her face away from Steve. He notices both of her hands start trembling again, like yesterday.

Then her shoulder shook, and he could hear her laughing. She looked at him and said, "Bravo, Steve. You weren't as clueless as I thought."

Steve clenched his fist; he wanted to scream at this woman. Why could she laugh while he was stressed out and couldn’t sleep?

She glanced at her watch and said, "Let's have a drink, and I'll explain everything to you."

He gasped; what was she thinking asking him to drink at 11 a.m.?

Well, she’s Y/N; she could do whatever she wants.

At the bar.

Y/N put down her whiskey glass and then grabbed the burnt cigarette from the crystal ashtray to her lips.

Steve is sitting in front of her; he doesn’t want to sit beside her because the smoke would trigger his asthma. “Smoking could kill you.”

She laughed while exhaling the smoke. “That’s the whole point.”

Steve didn’t find it funny.

Both of them have been in this private room at the exclusive club for 15 minutes, and she hasn’t started talking.

He crossed his arms and leaned back onto the leather couch. It is comfortable, but he can’t find any comfort now.

“You owe me an explanation.”

Y/N hummed at his words. She put out the cigarette to the ashtray, get rid of the tobacco taste from her lips with whiskey.

She leaned closer to Steve. “If I tell you everything, you must work with me until I say you’re done.”

Steve rolled his eyes, then raised both arms. “You have taken everything I have, Y/N. Just say it.”

She chuckled. “If you say so.”

Y/N became silent momentarily; then, her lips started moving. "But first, I want to clear my name from your accusations. I didn't take anything from you. Rather I gave you an opportunity."

‘BANG!’

Steve punched the mahogany table, "Bullshit, what opportunity? Since the beginning, it was you who took all the decisions."

‘Shit, it hurts.’ Even though his skinny hands hurt from punching the table, he needs to hold the pain.

Y/N doesn’t bother with his sudden anger outburst, “I’m not done talking. What if I gave you a chance to ruin Brian Solomon?”

Steve noticed she never mentioned Brian L/N as ‘my father’, that means “You hate him.”

After he said those words, he felt Y/N's expression change to anger.

“Hate is not enough to describe my feelings towards him.”

“Why do you hate your father?”

Y/N crossed her arms. “If he didn't have an affair with one of his clients that shocked my mother and made her die of a heart attack, and he didn't marry his mistress a week later after burying his wife, I probably wouldn't hate him.”

She continued, “What kind of father trusts his step-daughter more than his daughter who shares the same blood.”

Steve is out of words. She has a vendetta against her father and Solomon's family.

“But why did you bring me into this?”

Y/N lit another cigarette to ease her stress, “You probably have known why I got kicked out from the household.”

“Your case about Imperial University almost ruined the Solomon name.”

Y/N nodded. “I was too immature and made a mistake. They banned me from all their business while I needed access to the law firm.”

“But why me?”

Y/N raised her three fingers “Art, gallery, and money laundering. Solomon own an auction house called Napoleon’s. They are the only auction house in this city with the biggest money laundering client.”

“I already have two, art and the connection. But I don’t have anything to sell. I need to get their attention by making a lot of money in one night.”

“So you picked me.”

“Yes!!!”

“There’s other artist you could hired.”

“I could do that, but that wicked witch is watching me. If I hire a well-known artist, she will hire them first. That artist will agree to work with Napoleon rather than for me.”

The wicked witch she mentioned was probably her stepmother or step-sister.

“Then, when I saw your work, I got an idea. Why not use a painting from an unknown artist? You are a perfect choice, then the PR team I hired will do their job.”

"My plan is only to sell you a painting made them jealous how come a small exhibition could receive that kind of money in one night. They don't want their first place to get taken away."

Steve clicked his tounge "You're a hypocrite. You hate your father while enjoying the luxury."

"Ooh, you mean this?" Her hands show he outfit and watch. "My car and my money?"

She scoffed. "I haven't touched any cents from that man. All of this is from the investment by my mother before she died. And the audacity of them trying to steal my inheritance."

She put down her whiskey glass and took a document from her bag.

"Here is the contract."

Ah, she mentioned it yesterday. He grabs the contract and starts reading.

1. She will give him $50.000.

2.Y/N will pay for his mother's surgery

3. Every painting gets sold, he will get 80%.

He almost jolted his eyes; she didn't lie when she said he would get many benefits.

"Where should I sign?"

Y/N chuckled while giving him a pen. “You’re a funny man Steve.”

After Steve signed the contract, both of them decided to go back.

While on their way to her car, Steve asked, "You haven't told me your plan to deal with Brian." He stopped mentioning Brian as 'your father' to Y/N since she hated that person.

"Ah, I will tell you another day,-"

Before she could finish her sentences, something held her waist and made her turn around.

She gasped when she saw the person she had been avoiding for months. "Brock?"

The tall man with black hair who wears a black suit put his around Y/N's shoulder. He didn't even notice Steve was there the whole time. "Finally, I found you. You left me worried since you never replied to my text ."

Steven doesn't understand why he has this big urge to push this guy away from Y/N, seeing her uncomfortable.

Before he could do anything, Y/N pushed that guy away from her.

"Let's go." Her eyes already speak to Steve, telling him to follow her. He glanced back to see the man still looking at them.

While Y/N drove the car, Steve asked her, "Who was that?"

"My ex-boyfriend."

Steve made an 'Ooo' face; he didn't know what to say anymore.

"If you saw him, it's better to avoid him. He's crazy."

"Same as you?"

"Wow, you're getting brave, Steve. I take it back. He's a piece of trash because he sleeps with my step-sister when he's with me."

There’s a man who dares to betray Y/N? "A bastard and a liar."

Y/N agreed, and she nodded her head.

She dropped him off at the hospital. Through the window, she told him, "I think today is your lucky day."

Steve doesn't know what she is talking about; at least today, he understands her motive.

He went into a patient room where Sarah stayed, and when he opened the curtain, he saw her crying.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

Sarah wiped her tears, hugged her son, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I received the news that they found the donor, and the surgery is scheduled for next week."

This great news took Steve aback. He knew all this could happen after signing the contract with Y/N. The power of money and connection.

He knew these things could go south, but if he could make his mother healthy again, he would go through hell.

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

You can tell me if you want to join the tag list. Don't be shy 😘💖💜💙

I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-

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punkflower11 · 10 months

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Choose Your Own Adventure: Miles Morales - Part 3

Prev | Master List

————

“Okay, so what’s our story?”

Situated side by side, Hobie and Miles glared at the piece of wood before them; the only thing separating the pair and doom. Behind it, the single greatest trial either would ever encounter lay, patiently waiting.

Miles had dreaded this moment for weeks. But not even spider-man could evade the fate.

Dinner. With his parents.

How ominous.

First, having Hobie and his Dad sit together in one room was definitely a mistake. Chances that the two would hit it off were so slim that you had to mentally squint just to imagine it. And unfortunately for Miles, the universe wasn't planning to break the laws of space and time any time soon.

There was no way he surviving tonight. It just wasn't possible.

Not to distract from his impending death, but Miles was slowly coming to the realization that he was also about to out himself to his parents, the funny part being that he didn't like Hobie. Ish.

See, that there was another thing.

Miles may have had a thing for Hobie back a few months shortly after the two had first met. Initially, he had thought the punk to be little more than disruptive, reckless, and frankly, a pain in the ass.

He loved every bit of it.

Enamored his distinct personality, Miles had became drawn to the other like a moth to flame (and in some ways that he'd rather not think about).

However the feelings had vanished almost as quickly as they arrived. With time, the clarity between his various affections for Hobie became blurred.

Sure there were times that Miles feelings for the other were a little less than platonic, but there were also others when he was certain that it felt like normal friendship and nothing more.

Either way, this was not something Miles was planning to poke around with, least of all tonight. Did Miles realize that he was probably sabotaging himself by asking Hobie, of all people to help him out?

Yeah. He did.

But it was fine. He was probably just overthinking it, and everything had actually been completely normal. Besides, everyone becomes helplessly infatuated with their best friend at some point, right?

…Right?

Yeah, Miles was beginning to panic.

“You're just asking me this now? That’s some pretty shite time management.”

“Well we need something, unless you just want to waltz in there unprepared!” Miles whisper-shouts.

He couldn’t just explain to his family that he had met his boyfriend while traveling through an alternate dimension whilst fighting multiples of his alter ego. If they hadn’t had a heart attack once they met Hobie then they'd definitely have after one hearing that.

And no, Miles hadn’t told his parents that he was Spider-Man. His dad was alive and that was all Miles could really ask for, no need to complicate things further.

Miles knew what really awaited the punk at the event innocently disguised at a dinner. Spoiler alert: it wasn't just free food. In reality, it was a glorified interrogation; a setting in which his parents could finally lay into his mysterious 'Girlfriend', and in a seemly domestic environment. It was too perfect.

He felt slightly guilty subjecting an unsuspecting Hobie to the absolute shitstorm that awaited him beyond the door, but he also knew that the sooner they got the over with, the faster both their souls could be put to rest. Miles just hoped that Hobie was strong enough to make it through the night in one piece.

“Hey, what was that thing we talked about on the way?”

“You mean Miguel's ass?”

"The other thing."

"Don't piss yourself, I remember."

“Oh yeah? Then humor me.”

“'Don’t call your parents by their first names. Absolutely no swearing, which is not limited to', as you put it, 'sneaky British expressions.'" He recites.

“Fantastic. I should probably also warn you about-" Miles was cut off by Hobie's fist colliding with the door.

“Hobie!” The teen waves him off.

“You worry too much. Relax babe, we’ll be fine”.

The door swung open to reveal Miles’ father, who's gaze fell upon Hobie who was adorned in leather and numerous pieces jewellery.

“Who's this punk?” he asks, distaste evident in his tone. Welp. Now or never.

“He’s my boyfriend. Hobie.” The following silence is palpable. Miles can feel his insides turning.

“He's your what?” a stunned Jefferson parrots.

"Boyfriend. His name is Hobie."

"Hiya." Hobie waves.

“Is that you Miles?” A voice pips up from behind the officer’s shoulder.

“Hey mom,” Miles gestures awkwardly to the teen at his right. “This is Hobie.” He watches his mother pause as she takes in the sight.

“It’s nice to meet you, come on in!” She pushes past Jefferson, ushering the teen inside. "You''ll have to excuse my husband. Miles left out a few details about you so he's just a little surprised."

Well wasn't that the understatement of the year.

To be fair, Miles had told his parents a perfectly normal amount of information about his 'girlfriend' he could manage without giving himself away. What was he supposed to tell them? Hey, so I'm actually dating an anarchist who wants abolish the police. Like you Dad. Yeah no.

In hindsight, it probably made all the difference but it was too late to change things now. Similar thoughts continued to circulate through his mind as the false lovers stepped inside the residence.

“Mom. I am begging you. Don't scare him off."

Miles wasn't sure of how much energy it took to genuinely frighten Hobie, but he figured that it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Miha. You have nothing to be worried about. He'll be fine, we won't hurt him too badly,” She tossed a casual wink in Miles' direction before returning to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Hobie was busy looking at the wall to their left occupied by various picture frames. Expression softening, Miles moved to join him but half way through was confronted by his Rio who at present was carrying a large red tray.

“Here, take this to the table,” She orders him, pushing the dish into his arms. “And you,” Her eyes find Hobie. “Comes and help me flip the plantain.” The teen gives Miles a playful salute before joining Rio in the kitchen. Grumbling, Miles beings the trip to the dining table where he finds his is dad already seated.

“Mom, he just got here. Can't you give us a little space?” He calls out to her, exasperatedly setting down the dish onto the table.

“I don’t mind!" pipes Hobie from the stove just as Rio comes out to join Miles in setting the table.

“Hear that Miles? He doesn't mind.” She pats him on the shoulder before lowering her tone. "Also I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I wouldn't call Hobie a girl." She tells him wryly. Slightly panicking, Miles begins to laugh awkwardly.

"Ha. Yeah-no, I wouldn't either." Rio raises an eyebrow.

"Have anything you wanna tell me?"

Miles stiles. Hopefully never, his mind supplies, unhelpful.

At his silence, Rio shakes her head, expression fond. "No-we don't really have talk about it. But in case you’ve forgotten, I'm proud of you. Always.” A sudden wave of relief crashes over Miles. At hearing the sentiment he feels something warm swell in his chest.

"Thanks Mom, I appreciate it. Really."

"I would hope so. Now go join your Dad, he's been waiting patiently." True to her word, there he is situated at the diner table, glaring at Hobie from afar.

No doubt the man was already very concerned as to what Miles was seeing in such a person, but also that Hobie quite literally looked like he was about to jump him. He certainly had the build for it.

Hobie’s appearance wasn't very encouraging either. While Jefferson appreciated a strong display of personal expression, he wasn't so sure that he was as enthusiastic about someone who's personal expression screamed yo let's flip over that car.

In short, Jefferson thought that Hobie looked like trouble, and for his own piece of mind needed to make sure that his son wasn't seeing some sort of radical anarchist.

Where was Miles picking up all of these bad influences anyway? That girl Gwanda had already given him a bad vibe, but Hobie was a whole new level of shady.

"Hi." Miles smiles nervously. Jefferson inhales sharply.

"Look, anytime you'd like clear the air-" the cop is cut off by Rio and Hobie emerging from the kitchen carrying several pots.

"Jeff move your phone so I can put down the stew."

"Can't you just put it over there I'm trying to have a conversation with my-" The deathly look he got from his partner made any protests he had die in his throat.

He could reason with Miles later, but to do that he had to survive dinner first.

Soon, the four were seated comfortably at the table. Hobie next to Miles, Miles next to Jefferson, and Rio at the opposite end.

"Pass the beans, would you Miles?" Miles drops his fork and lifts the dish into his mom's reach. Meanwhile at the other end of the table, Jefferson clears his throat.

"So, Hobie," He addresses the teen. "How are..."

#across the spiderverse #punkflower #choose your own adventure #updates daily!#polls

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akumicchi · 10 days

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𝔗𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔡.

112 prayers

A hopeful message with no destination.

You will never be too heavy for me.

Content: angst, breakdown, hints of depression. Suguru's POV. OC appearance.

I smelled it before I saw it. I felt it before I heard it; the presence, the humming. I had never entertained the idea of time travel. No one could actually predict a forced turn in the highway of time, even if Back to the Future made it look so comical. Despite that, I found myself basking in that presence, in that humming, and let it drive me off to when I was a child: innocent and safe.

“Mom?”, hoarse. Silence. A knot of guilt tightened itself up inside my chest. ‘Don’t go’.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”, there weren't the walls of my room around me, no posters, no bookshelves nor pictures. In fact, there was no room at all. Just an open field I didn't know, somewhere I couldn't remember. I wasn't curled against my mother either. It was just Hogo, and it made me more at ease than expected.

Not being alert in a strange place was a punch to my instincts, but I couldn't bring myself to care aside from a simple:

“Where are we?”

“We’re at school. I carried you here, remember?”, oh yes. She and her stupidly strong arms. “You fell asleep though, so you probably don't”.

I did remember not wanting to come, earlier that day. The air had felt like lead for the entire … month?, weighing heavy on my lungs with each breath. Every layer of clothing was a tight rope made of rubber. It didn't matter how much I tried to fight the dark clouds, they only grew thicker and tighter. It was exhausting. It'd be way easier to just give into the misery. ‘Ah… everyone would be so disappointed to see me like this, choosing the easy way. But I can't carry this and pretend anymore’. So I hid from sewing fake smiles on my face. I just wanted to drown in the pain without witnesses.

Despite that, I let her in.

“C'mon, I want to show you something.”

“I don't really feel like walking anywhere right now”, it had been four days since Tsukumo Yuki talked to me on that very bench, and left me with more thoughts than I could manage. I needed quiet. “Maybe next time”.

Hogo crouched in front of me. Her voice was soft, the one she used when talking to kids. “Please, it won't be long, I promise. We go and then we come back. You will like it”, her eyes were clouded with worry, she looked pretty like that too, “You don't even have to walk if you don't want to”.

“Hmm? How come? You can teleport now, too?”, I cocked a brow, feeling the slight tug of a smile against my will. ‘The things she makes me do’. Her hands closed and opened for a second. She wanted to hug me, and the realization of this loud and clumsy girl being so mindful around me made my chest ache.

“Well, I'll show you if you agree to come with me”, she sang quietly with a spray of confidence.

I was so eager to get an answer to these haunting questions. Haibara’s response was as simple as his own mind. Tsukumo Yuki’s, on the other hand… It was complicated. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe I had made my choice? But what if I was wrong? How could I know? What would she say? I wanted her thoughts, a piece of her mind to tell me…anything.

‘But not now’. The scent from her neck lulled my senses quiet. The tree leaves above our heads were kind enough to shield us from the summer afternoon. Hogo’s hand traced my skin, untangling my worries stroke by stroke. My legs were folded on her lap, and the vague memory of being cradled this way made me feel so innocent. Too warm to think. Too soft. Too comfortable.

She had a book propped up against my thigh. It was open roughly around the middle.

“What are you reading?”

“112 prayers at midnight”, she hummed, eyes not leaving the pages.

“That's an odd number of prayers”.

“Yeah. It's a story about a non-believer trapped in a time loop trying to save his loved ones after losing them to a mistake… He prays every time for the loop to restart.”

“For a non believer he surrendered fast… At least he has a second chance”.

Silence settled between us. A few seconds later she spoke again.

“Hum, I thought about that too, ‘To pray for time to go back, it's so unfair’. But as twisted as it is, I just can't stop reading. Maybe I'll be surprised”.

“Who’s that god that answers at the first call? That's a real surprise. I'd like to meet him”, that was a slip. My throat tightened and by no means I expected how broken I actually sounded.

Her arms held me closer. When she pressed her lips against my forehead, a sob almost broke through every wall I had built.

“Me too”.

Stop being like this. Don't hold me, don't carry me somewhere calm, don't kiss me so softly. Stop making me feel so small! I don't want the sun, I don't want the breeze, I don't want clouds, or words, or songs, or flowers; I don't want any of it!!

“Shh… it's okay, I've got you”.

#jjk x reader #jjk geto #jjk suguru #jjk fanfic #jjk geto suguru #jjk suguru geto #jjk angst #jjk #jujutsu geto #jujutsu suguru #jujutsu angst #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen comfort #tw depressing thoughts

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bigfan-fanfic · 2 years

Text

Fire and Smoke (District 12!Reader x Haymitch Abernathy)

Requested by @sleepyt0ast for Being a District 12 Mentor in the Games and being the only one who Haymitch actually trusts - and anonymous for Im super interested in your idea of reader being a District 12 Mentor and being the only person ol lovely Haymitch trusts 👀👀 i wld like to request at least one fic pls sir 🙏🙏

Figure this'd be part one. Let me know if anyone wants to see it continue!

It's hard to trust anyone when you've gone through what you have.

Still... if anyone even comes close to trusted, it's Haymitch.

Sure, he's a surly drunk who you still haven't forgiven for leaving you for dead, but... he's all you've got.

You had offered to bring Haymitch with you to the Capitol when you were allowed to move there, but the man sneered at you and refused.

Whatever. He's the one drinking his life away. And though you can't forget what you went through, it all seems a little bit farther away when you don't have to live every day in the oppressive environment of District 12.

It really is the worst part of the year, having to go back to 12 and mentor one of the kids from your district, particularly because of the natural disadvantages your district has.

Coal production ends up practically poisoning the lungs of the Seam kids, meaning that they generally can't exert themselves as much due to the terrible hacking cough and breathing issues they develop. Kids from the inner part of the district have it a little easier, but they generally don't spend much time developing useful physical skills.

That might be why you desperately angle for that color commentator job Caesar Flickerman's been hinting at - it would exempt you from mentoring the kids.

Which basically means no more having to watch them die and know it was directly your fault.

But, there's no such luck this year.

So, about a week before the yearly live Reaping, you board the train to District 12. There's a Capitol outfit for the day of, just so you can prepare to broadcast your allegiance - it's safer to toe the line. You've only heard what they do to punish the Victors that get a little too uppity, so you have to be the perfect model Victor for them.

Haymitch greets you at the station, surprisingly. He scoffs a little at your simple button down and slacks. (You try to spend as much money as you can in 12 when you're there, and it's just impractical to dress in fancy Capitol clothes when it's not a necessity)

"Expected you to be wearing some sort of ant's nest on your head." he says dryly. (he's not off - muttation insects were popular a few months back as a statement wear piece - you never really participated in that one)

"Expected you to be drunk." you say back. "Didn't expect you to be here."

Haymitch shrugs, slipping one hand in his pocket and offering his arm to you.

You frown. "Why are you being so nice?"

Haymitch laughs at that, though there's little mirth in it. "Figured you owe me a drink since you never came to visit this year."

"Hmmm." you grunt. "What's the real reason? I haven't known you to get this simpering just for booze. Greasy Sae cut you off?"

Haymitch sneers. "Nah. Sae and I got an understanding during Games season."

Finally he stops as he reaches your place in the Victor's Village, simply tromping in after you. "Actually, I heard you were planning on, uh... not coming back."

You choose not to ask how he heard it. There's all sorts of privileges a Victor can get if they're careful about keeping quiet. (or, like Haymitch, getting a reputation as a drunk who can't be believed anyway).

"So, I figured that you wouldn't mind taking over for me fully these Games. Since you're leaving me in the lurch."

"Screw you, Haymitch." you snarl. In a way, it's nice to speak plainly and with vulgarity, neither of which is particularly enjoyed in the Capitol. "I'm not doing your dirty work."

Haymitch laughs. "Well, worth a shot. I'll probably be drunk anyway."

You allow yourself to chuckle. It's not funny, none of this is, but at least you can try to lose yourself in the mundane and the stupid.

Haymitch pulls you close into a hug, and for a moment you can feel the both of you letting your guard down.

"How about we don't talk about the Games until we get back on that train and see what we're working with, yeah?" Haymitch sighs.

You nod, briefly just enjoying the hug, and the little caught breath Haymitch gives when you allow yourself to bury your face in his neck.

"Alright, alright." Haymitch huffs, pulling away. He looks at you and you just see the weariness etched on his face. "I'm not in the mood for catching up, so let's just find something to eat. I'd offer you some booze, but I got to stock up for the Reaping."

You frown a little at that, but with your luggage stowed, Haymitch just throws an arm around you and leads you away.

And although this feels like new behavior, you allow him to. Because it feels safe, next to him.

However much you know that safety is nothing but a lie...

#haymitch x male reader #haymitch x reader #hunger games x male reader #hunger games x reader #hunger games headcanons #headcanons

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spoopyblues214 · 2 months

Note

Mmmmmm what if I said 2012 Mikey angst because my boy here is, I have to admit it, a bit of a player. :’)

Who knows, maybe we steal his time traveling girlfriend instead.

I decided to just call it finished instead of letting it rot for longer. I hope you enjoy!

Requests are open btw!

Player 12!Mikey, ficlet

Word count: 612

°•.•°

“-C'mon, angel face, you know I'd never-”

“Do I know? Cause it seemed like she was all over you.”

“But I'd always choose you, baby cakes!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and leaning back against the wall. This wasn't the first time you'd had this fight, or similar, and you knew it wouldn't be the last; it wasn't the other thirty times. A hand came to your temple while you sighed.

“You sure like keeping your options open, though,” you huffed, eyes opening to glare at him under your lashes.

He physically recoiled like you lashed him.

“That's not what it is.”

“Then what is it? It can't be that hard to tell them to back off-”

“I don't wanna be an ass-”

“It's not being an ass, it's setting boundaries!”

He reached for you and you pushed his hand away with the back of your own, “I'm not dealing with your shit anymore.”

“What?”

“We're done. I'm sick of your people pleasing.”

“You can't just-” he said your name while you stood from the wall, turning to leave before you ended up in tears. “I love you!”

“If you did, you'd stop hurting me.”

You were thankful when Raph stopped him from following you, even if it felt embarrassing that he had heard the fight.

°•.•°

It took about a week before you heard Mikey was kissing someone else in an alleyway. Leo had avoided your eyes and Donnie was even worse at keeping things from you. Especially when you gave him a look that threatened he'd burst into flames by pure will. When you turned to Leo with the same look because he hadn't told you first, he lowered his head like a dog that got caught chewing the furniture.

Any tiny piece of you that might have felt remorseful evaporated, as Michelangelo clearly disregarded everything so easily. Of course, your heart hurt, it felt as though some thorny vine was growing inside your chest; but the idea of feeling bad for him.

It was already a trillion miles away.

At least he had the courtesy to hole up in his room with his comics instead of being out here. At least he had some shame. Or maybe he just didn't want to see you. If that were the case, it was perfectly fine, considering you didn't want to see him either.

You rolled your eyes before squaring your shoulders, determined to beat the two turtles present in their favorite video game.

.•°•.

It took you a couple months to fully get over everything. The brothers also quit walking on eggshells around you, aside from Raph who had always been blunt. Even Mikey stopped hiding in his room every time you'd come over, though he had a staring problem. You ignored it; he had ruined his chance.

Today you brought along someone new, whom you had warned about the friends they'd be meeting being mutants. She was surprisingly cool about it, though she was cool about everything. It's what attracted you to her in the first place.

“Guys, meet my girlfriend, Angel,” you introduced her. Only one person seemed unhappy, which was a rare feat considering he loved making new friends.

“Surprised she's not screaming,” Raph joked, fist bumping Angel while she shrugged.

“You guys aren't doing much to warrant a freak out,” she replied, shaking Leo's hand while Donnie just waved.

The three gave their names accordingly, but Mikey stood with his arms crossed, looking almost like he was pouting. Angel waved at him anyway. Besides the orange coded turtle's sudden jealousy issues, things went surprisingly well.

Michelangelo would just have to get over it, like you did.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2012 x reader #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #2012 mikey #2012 mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #spoopywriting

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avelera · 1 year

Text

A few thoughts on writerly endurance, word count, how to increase it and why you might want to

So over the last few months I've had, bar none, the highest word count I've ever produced as a writer over the course of (*checks watch*) 23 years of writing, on and off. This was after a pretty long dry spell brought on, most likely, from stress from current events and playing way too much Sims 4.

No one is more shocked by this than me. Mostly the word count lately has been me just trying to outrun the Doubts that set in if I pause for too long. Let's hope I can stay ahead, because I feel like garbage when I haven't written in a long time. Mostly, I just thank Calliope every day where I've got something to write and the urge doesn't leave me.

But this crazy-ass word count has led to a few people commenting on it so I want to give some scattered, not exactly linear tips on how to reach a longer word count and why you might want to do so as a writer.

1 ) Learning to write more is, in my mind, a matter of endurance with an almost 1-to-1 correlation with the sort of training one would do to become a long distance runner. No one is born with the ability. It takes practice. Expecting to be able to do it without practice is as ridiculous as expecting to be able to sit down at the piano if you've never played it before and bang out a tune. Be gentle with yourself.

2 ) The incentive to learning to increase your word count is to learn how to cut and edit more viciously. Which sounds odd. And I actually don't recommend deleting what you write, I recommend a discard document even for phrases as small as half a sentence, because you never know when you got it right the first time and if you (like me) do track word count as an accomplishment, it's good to see how much work you actually did at the end of the day.

3 ) But really, you need* (*if you so choose) to learn how to write 100 words easily, and then 1,000 words, and then 10,000 words because at some point, you might realize your story has gone off track and hit a wall and the only way to fix it is to go back 50 words, or 500 words, or 5,000 words and if you nearly killed yourself to write that much, you might be reluctant to remove it (to your discard doc), even if failing to do so will mean the whole story dies. The less effort it takes to write a lot, the more likely (if you're like me) that you'll be able remove the things that need to be removed without getting too possessive of them because they were so hard to write in the first place.

4 ) Now, the one reason to not just increase word count for the sake of word count is that short pieces actually, pound for pound, tend to get more attention because they represent less of a commitment for an audience. Long fics might have more comments, but if you broke down word count-to-feedback ratio, most one shots do a lot better. So don't negatively compare a short fic to a long fic just because it has more comments. Short fics and one shots can be very rewarding. But, as said in point 3, learning to write a lot means you can be more precise with removing extra stuff. For me, at least, writing something short is harder and takes a lot longer than writing something long. Even this post would probably be more successful if I could boil it down to a few bullet points, but that would take 10x more time and energy for me than just writing my thoughts out linearly without boiling them down to the most salient points.

5 ) For me, learning to write a lot had a lot to do with learning to trust my initial instincts. I've heard runners say the hardest part of learning to run was learning to stop stopping themselves. They said their own bodies held them back until they trained themselves to work with their bodies. I think writing is similar.

We have our internal editor, many people have heard of that, the voice that tries to edit a piece before it's done. That's worth noting if you haven't heard of it: don't try to edit while you're writing. Editing is for when your story or at least your chapter draft is done. Because you can't really see what needs to be fixed until you have the whole picture before you. It's like trying to color in the lines before you've actually drawn the lines of a picture.

But also consider this: you're not going to learn to write better than you already have in the .5 seconds while you're thinking about what to say next. Go with your first instincts. You've been reading, watching, and otherwise consuming stories for most of your life. You've been writing for some significant period of it too. You know everything you need to know, that you can possibly know to write the story in front of you right now. That's not going to change if you agonize over that next sentence for hours or weeks. You're not going to get better in that time without actually writing. And if you do, most likely you'll want to write something else because your interests and skills will have shifted and the story in front of you will die in that time. The best way to get better? Write and finish the story in front of you. There really is no comparison.

So the best thing you can do is write the next line that first appears in your head. Don't doubt yourself. Your brain knows what it's doing. Trust yourself. You know what comes next. And maybe you'll get to the end and realize it wasn't the right line. Well, then you can edit and fix it. And you'll have a much clearer idea of how to do that, of what needs to change at the end than you'll ever have in the moment. In the moment you need to stop fighting your own body and brain. Trust yourself. You know how to tell a story. You know what the next line will be if you just listen and don't edit it before it exists.

6 ) It's going to take practice. But writing 50 kind a crappy 100 word drabbles in under 15 minutes is going to teach you a lot more than staring at the blank document of your magnum opus novel that you haven't written a word for. Particularly, writing that many drabbles is going to help you with point 5: trusting yourself to know what the next sentences will be.

7 ) Don't bite off more than you can chew. If writing 100 words exhausts you, don't plot out a 100,000 word story. You're not there yet. You're training for a 5k and that's a marathon. You need to build to it and you need to be gentle with yourself about the fact that 100,000 words is a serious amount of effort and it would be as absurd to expect of yourself as expecting someone working up to a 5k to run a marathon without training first. Doesn't mean you shouldn't run every day though, or run when you can.

8 ) Random note but: stop checking your word count while you're writing. Check the word count when the section is done. I've stopped checking word count unless I'm looking to see how close I am to having a chapter's worth of content ready to post, I don't check it mid-scene anymore, only when I feel I've got something to share. I think it helps with both avoiding discouragement and feeling like you're "done" before you've actually finished anything and then resting on your laurels.

#writing #maggie rambles #maggie's writing progress

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vashsmunch · 1 year

Text

In our solitary room

Millions Knives x Reader

Synopsis: you and nai are coworkers at a local music shop, but recently he's been acting strange

Warnings: none

A/N: i'm sorry y'all i'm having too much fun writing him, i'll write vash stuff later i swear

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It started off with the little things.

Nai had never been a "nervous" person for as long as you'd known him. Maybe that wasn't a reliable timeframe because the two of you had only been coworkers for a few months, but you were good at reading people. You worked with him at a local music store that sold refurbished pianos, amongst other instruments. When you were on break, sometimes he would play songs for you as you quietly hummed along in your head.

He would choose this specific one that you could never place your finger on. It didn't sound like any of the classic pieces you would hear on the radio. His fingers would elegantly glide across the keys in a manner where the melody shouldn't have sounded anything but robotic. But instead, it was sweet and tender; you would almost believe it was a love song if it wasn't him playing it.

There were times when you felt like his friend, but acquaintances would be a better term. For the most part, he kept his emotions locked behind his signature deadpan stare, sometimes accompanied by a condescending smile. You had never really minded this, though. In fact, it just made it more fun to tease him. But recently, that facade of his had begun to show cracks.

First was the incessant tapping of his fingers against any and every surface whenever you were around. It didn't help that he had abnormally well-maintained hands, so his nails would make a repetitive clacking noise every time he would start.

"That's getting extremely annoying."

"So is you referring to me as Hundred Spoons for some ungodly reason, but I refrain from saying so."

After a few weeks of giving him death glares, he eventually stopped. However, it began to devolve into other things. Every time you went near him, he would tense up, quietly holding his breath. There came points where you had to physically shake him to exhale because he started to look faint. You would catch him staring at you from across the store on other days. Maybe he was just trying to tell you something? But whenever you met his gaze, he would turn around and walk in the opposite direction. What the hell was going on with him?

Eventually, you had enough. Nai was lazily skimming some sheet music when you stormed up to him, slamming your hands on the table he was at. He glared up at you, quirking an eyebrow in annoyance. "And to what do I owe the displeasure of having you making a ruckus?"

"Spit it out. Why are you so nervous around me?"

He scoffed, almost looking insulted that you suggested something so outlandish. "Exactly how did you come to that conclusion?"

"Whenever I'm near, you freeze on the spot. Every time I look at you, you're staring back with this dazed expression I can never decipher," You leaned down to look at him and watched him swallow hard. "Look, if I somehow made you uncomfortable, then tell me. We're coworkers, and sometimes we're even friends. I like being around you, so please just say it." Your words bordered on a plea, though you weren't sure why. It wasn't as if you enjoyed his company, the two of you were merely coworkers. At least, that's what you'd thought. But as you stared into his eyes, that was the moment you realized that maybe it wasn't all platonic.

Nai eventually sighed and stood up. As he walked past the table, he turned to look at you in annoyance. "Well? Are you going to follow me?"

"Don't get your panties in a twist, I'm coming," You rolled your eyes as he led you to the back of the store, where there were rehearsal rooms with donated instruments inside. This is where the two of you would spend your breaks, listening to each other practice. He opened the door to one of them and held it, waiting for you to enter first. "My my, what a gentleman." He suddenly let the door go, and you moved inside before it slammed shut on you. Dramatic bitch. He sat on the bench before the piano and looked at you expectantly. You joined him, and as your shoulders touched, a shiver ran up your spine. God, what was this feeling?

He inhaled softly before pressing on the keys, and you noticed he was playing that song he always did. You actually hadn't heard it in a while, so it was a pleasant surprise. There was an unspoken rule between you two that there would be absolute silence when either person was playing. At that moment, the only sounds were from the piano, which was how it had always been. It was times like these when you could just exist without worrying about anything else. Being with Nai allowed you that comfort, a luxury you weren't used to. You and him, doing what you both loved the most.

As he finished, you turned towards him, smiling happily. "You haven't played that in a while. It's my favorite, so thank you," He nodded curtly, and you swung your feet as both of you stayed seated. But there was still something on your mind. "This doesn't answer my question, though. Why are you so afraid to be around me?"

Nai stared at the keys, refusing to meet your eyes. After a few moments, he finally said, "You said you liked this song, yes?" You nodded, and he brought out the sheet music he was reading earlier. Where had he been hiding that? He held it out for you to take, and your eyes glazed over the stanzas. They weren't special, but you flipped through the pages regardless. As you got to the last one, you noticed some words written on the bottom.

For the one I could never say it to.

You looked up, turning your head to look at Nai. He stared back, waiting for your reaction. "What does this mean?"

He sighed, exasperated. "You were acting so arrogant earlier; I thought you'd be smarter than this," He took your cheek in his hand, making you go bug-eyed as you stared at him, jaw slacked. What?? Okay, you had to admit, he was an enigma. But even this was completely unexpected. "I composed the song. I always played it around you because I made it for you. You were correct; being around you made me extremely tense. But it's because I feel things I've never felt before when I'm in your presence. As bothersome and aggravating as you are, you are also everything I've been looking for. Before you came, I was stumbling around in the dark, entirely lost in my head. But now I can see something shining brightly, and it's you. It always has been. I want you to be mine because you are the star I followed to bring me to paradise. I refuse to see you with anyone else because I simply couldn't bear it. I'm in love with you. And more than anything, I want you to feel the same." There was a brief pause before he finally leaned in and kissed you. In that solitary room, hidden from customers and the world itself. And it was nothing short of magical.

#nai x reader #nai x you #millions knives x reader #millions knives x you #millions knives

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