#her opinion was ''fuck this fuck you fuck everything'' and she was not afraid to kill at all

[sage-nebula]

I've now finished DA:I and have a completed World State in the Keep for DA4. I will say that, out of the three games (Origins, 2, and Inquisition) I think that the Inquisition party feels the closest to me. Like they're the ones I feel would actually want to stay together after all was said and done, helped I think by the fact that so many say that's what they want (with Sera almost starting to cry if you have the Inquisitor tell her that Skyhold will always be her home if she needs it). With Origins, it really felt like everyone was there and working together purely because of the mission to stop the blight and no other reason. With 2, it felt like they were there and working together because they lived in Kirkwall and wanted to make their lives easier. But with Inquisition, everyone who was there chose to be there, and sure it was for a cause . . . but also we got bonding scenes like them playing Wicked Grace together, or eating cookies up on rooftops. Even when they fought with each other, I felt a real closeness there. Like it was them against the world (which it kind of ends up being during the Exalted Council).

Of course, this is just all my opinion, and it's possible that this had something to do with how the personalities of each character developed over my playthroughs, as well as the fact that I found it a bit hard to track people down in Kirkwall sometimes and as such didn't bond with my companions as much as I would have wanted. (RIP Fenris, I missed the opportunity to do your character quest and so you died 😔). But at the end of DA:I Trespasser, I had the Inquisition stay together not just because that's what my Trevelyan wanted (as making the world a better place / helping people is very important to her), but also because I didn't want to see the squad break up, even though they had to break up a little due to responsibilities elsewhere in the world anyway. It's just how they made me feel.

#for those wondering - you know the Blue - Purple - Red metric in DA2? that's kind of how my characters were #with my Warden being Red - Hawke Purple - and Inquisitor Blue #Lyra Mahariel did NOT want to be a Warden and did NOT want to fight the blight and did NOT want to be there #she also never wanted to be Warden-Commander either. she bounced as soon as she could to find an end to the calling #bc she also doesn't want to die from smth she had no choice in #her opinion was ''fuck this fuck you fuck everything'' and she was not afraid to kill at all #meanwhile Briar Hawke was snarky and 100% the type to bant in the face of death. she did what she had to for her family & friends #she didn't do what she did bc of some sense of justice or obligation; she did it bc she fucking lived there (there being Kirkwall) #and she really just wanted things to settle down so she could have some drinks and play Wicked Grace w/ her friends #unfortunately things didn't always work out that way but hey. at least she could quip while dealing with the issues #and lastly Lucia Trevelyan lived a sheltered and also mostly easy life as the youngest noble in her family #whom no one really expected anything of and she also expected nothing from herself #so it was hard to believe at first that she was Chosen - but she and her family are faithful so she did #and even when the truth came out she kept it up bc she wanted to believe that there was *some* reason for this and even if there wasn't #her sheltered life led her to be sickened by needless violence and killing and she wanted to make the world a better place #she was gentle when the world let her be. kind when the world let her be. #even now she just wants to help. she got a long great w/ Cole tbh

[adaelines]

afab but gender neutral reader, horny as fuck smut, ada and leon competing for your attention! theyre both in love with you and wanna prove that you should be theirs.. wrote this in one night bc i wanna fuck both of them so bad lmao

To others, working with two people with as much renown as Ada and Leon might seem lucky. Missions with Leon always go easy, he's known for his strength and capability. A mission with Leon by your side is always a good mission, no matter the danger, you know he's there to protect you. Ada is the same, the few that know her naming her deadly, a woman who isn't afraid to do anything she needs to get what she wants. You know that all too well, just how stubborn she can be when she truly wants something.

You've known Leon longer, worked with him enough times to even call him a friend, but you can't deny the immediate spark you feel everytime Ada 'intrudes' on your missions, as Leon puts it. He always seems so bitter towards her, and anytime you're involved, it seems to turn almost malicious. Leon would never hurt her unless provoked to, you know that, but the way his eyes turn dark and he stands between you, almost shielding you from her, you can't help but feel like there's something more going on. 

What you don't know, don't see, is the way they both rush to be the one by your side, the one to help you up if an enemy downs you, the one to defend you. They both want you to see them as someone you can trust, someone you can rely on with anything. 

Leon is more gentle, forward. A soft smile that's reserved for only you and firm touches, a hand on your back whilst he guides you, always stood between you and anything he sees as dangerous, even the woman he currently sees himself at war with. Like a guard dog, willing to do anything if it means keeping you safe, he's always the one backing you up in any conflict and watching.

Ada, however, is more discreet. She protects you just as much, watches and never lets you come into danger that's avoidable, never lets anyone else get in the way of your mission. Defeating enemies before they can see you, before you can see them, locking doors if she thinks what's behind it is too dangerous for you. She knows you can take care of yourself, that you're strong, but she likes knowing you're safe, that she helped in keeping you safe.

Between them, you were very rarely in danger. Even when you did end up fighting someone, usually with no other choice, you saw the way Leon's eyes darkened, like a cornered, feral dog. He's dangerous, and he proves it when you're involved. Ada is the same. You don't get to see her fight as much, you're not partners with her like you are Leon, but there was a time you and her ended up together alone, and you saw just how strong she was, how far she was willing to go for you.

The unfounded, in your opinion, rivalry is how you ended up where you were, practically sitting on Leon's lap as you leant back against him, Ada knelt between your legs with her arms wrapped under your thighs, her grip firm. You were meant to be focused on a mission, but a situation that left you a little too close to danger for their liking ended up with them needing to punish you, as they put it. 

Your shirt was bunched above your chest, shoved up by Leon's hands, currently groping your chest harshly, pinching your nipples and holding the fat of your chest tight. His grip was so rough it left you whining, head thrown back against his shoulder, which gave him the perfect angle to kiss along your jaw, your neck. His affection made Ada hum against your cunt, a noise that told you she was less than pleased. Her nose was buried in the wiry hair, mouth altering between your clit and hole. 

Ada's gaze was overwhelming, her eyes full of fire and utter need. From her place between your thighs, she could see everything Leon was doing to you, and it only caused her to work harder. She wanted to be the one to make you feel good, it was going to be her name you moaned, not some dumb puppy's who didn't know how to treat you properly. 

"C'mon, won't you be good for me, sweet thing?" Ada's voice was sultry, and when you opened your eyes to look to at her, you couldn't help the moan you let out. Her touch, her words, the utter love and affection in her eyes… It was almost too much, and if it wasn't for Leon's sharp pinch of your nipples, you could have gotten lost in her. 

"For you? As if," Leon's voice was gruff in return, teeth gently resting on your pulse, "You still think too much of yourself, it's not going to be you they're good for." 

The whine you let out in response was loud, one hand coming up to tangle in Ada's hair, the other placed on Leon's forearm. Your grip on both of them was tight, tight enough that you knew it would hurt, but you were too distracted, too out of it to even notice, not that they complained about your nails digging into them. 

In response, Leon bit down on your neck, harsh enough to hurt, to leave a mark of his teeth that'll last a while, a reminder of who left it there and the position you were currently in. Ada simply chuckled, a low noise that vibrated against you, and flattened her tongue to lick from your hole up to your clit. She may have been on her knees before you, but she was completely in control over you, owned you, as she would put it. 

Between them like this, the overwhelming attention from both of them, it was so much. You wanted to close your eyes, hide away from them, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away. Leon's large hands on your chest, his mouth on your neck and shoulders, all while Ada ate you out like a woman starved, like she was lost in a desert and you were the only respite.

"C'mon, stop looking at her," Leon's voice was low in your ear, quiet enough that Ada wouldn't hear, "You're mine, right? I own you and this cunt. No one could ever make you feel as good as i can. Prove it." 

"C-an't! 's too much…!" 

Your voice was shaky, an octave higher than usual thanks to the attention you were receiving.

"It's okay, sweetheart, moan my name and I'll stuff you full, you just need my cock, huh? Such a sweet thing, I'll ruin you.."

Ada let out a low hum against your clit, bringing one hand from your thigh to gently press against your hole. Her gaze went to Leon, almost glaring and full of malice, before returning to you, returning to the loving, affectionate focus for you. She couldn't hear Leon, but she could tell he was trying to get your attention away from her, away from her touch and tongue against you. 

Just as Leon moved in to kiss you, Ada pushed her fingers inside of you, harsh and quick enough for you to let out a loud whine and jolt. She quickly cooed an apology, voice almost mocking.

"Aw, I'm sorry, love. Was that too much? Just can't help myself, it's not my fault you're just too cute… I just want to make you feel good, make you all mine…"

Leon didn't react well to that, not by the tight pinch he gave your nipple, the low noise he made against your neck was almost a growl. Calling him possessive would be an understatement, covering you in hickies and bruises that marked you as his and his, even with the woman between your thighs. To him, she wasn't there, she wasn't the one making you feel good, he was, and that's all he cared about. 

Even as you got closer to release, as your pleasure climbed and all you could focus on was humping against Ada's face, holding Leon's arm as tight as you could, you could feel the competition between them, feel that they each wanted to prove to you just who could make you feel best.

Leon's lips were right against your ear, whispering how good you were being for him, even looking so slutty you were so gorgeous, won't you be mine? I'll take care of you, make you feel good, you'll never have to raise a finger again. I'll do anything for you, y'know? all you have to do is cum for me, only for me, you'll be so happy together… be a good whore and cum. I'll fuck you hard, fast, rough, anything you want. You'll be so dumb off of my cock you won't even be able to think about anything else, only how deep inside of you I can reach.

His words, mixed with Ada's attention to your clit, her fingers pressing into you harshly, filling you as much as she could, promises of more, of what she can do for you, to you, quickly finished your off, your back arching against Leon's chest, both hands gripping tightly, one still in Ada's hair, the other still on Leon's arm. Both of them let out their own noises as you came. Leon a quiet groan, eyes closing as he gently pressed kisses against your jaw, whilst Ada moaned against you, eyes closed tight as she drank everything you offered, holding you as close to her face as she could, even when you tried to jolt away in overstimulation.

Ada pulled away, the grim on her face proud, still full of desire.

"What a good little thing for me, you taste so delicious too…"

"Excuse me? For you? No, that was all for me…"

They weren't done with you, with their competition for your affection. It was going to be a very long night.

#god im so normal about them #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #ada wong #ada wong smut #ada wong x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil #resident evil x reader

[angelyuji]

yandere headcanons :0

across the spiderverse characters: peter b parker, miles, gwen, miguel, hobie, pavitr

warnings: the usual yandere stuff (kidnapping, manipulation, stalking)

(imagine miles, gwen, pavitr like college age) (gender neutral reader)

peter b

literally so in love with you

he’s not the type to sit and stalk you from a far, but he’s also not straight up kidnapping you

he’ll watch you, find out your interests, find your social media, everything he needs to figure out how to be your perfect lover <3

he becomes your friend and integrates himself into your life

if you like him, he has no reason to separate you from your family or friends becuz he’s the perfect boyfriend. no one has anything negative to say abt him

if you don’t… he’ll do anything to make you like him.

convince you your whole family is evil and he’s the only one really looking out for you

he’s awkward and sweet and kind and so funny and it’s hard not to believe him

wants the American dream life: white picket fence, house in the suburbs, marriage, kids

that’s his dream for the both of you and he doesn’t really care if you don’t have the same dream

“you’re my dream, (y/n). everything i do, it’s always been for you.”

miles (aged up!)

miles is similar to peter b but like also not

very stalker but like without knowing, he’d pass your place over and over during his patrols around the city without realizing

he’d never kidnap you or do anything reallyyy morally wrong

howeverrr he’s absolutely in love with you, so like small little things

stalking, stealing small things from you, finding out the shampoos or different things you use or eat.

he feels closer to you, knowing he knows you better than anyone else.

after a long time, he’ll work up the courage to talk to you (“accidently” bumping into you at a coffee shop or a place you visit frequently) miles (albeit awkward) is a charmer, so you’re instantly smitten.

plus! he loves all the things you do, so you’re a match made in heaven :)

“hey, (y/n)! we meet again!”

gwen (aged up!)

gwen doesn’t try to interact with you much

she’s definitely afraid of putting you in danger or losing you just because you got close

she’ll watch over you and protect you from danger tbh like

for example, sayyy someone was harassing you at work and/or school, you’d probably successfully get that off your ass or at least they leave you alone for the day, butttt gwen would not feel satisfied.

gwen would find where they live and absolutely beat the living shit out of them

seeing someone bother you makes her vision go red like

basically your guardian angel

she would never bother you really just protecting you from afar

you’ll never notice tbh

unless some big bad guy found out that ghost-spider has been following around a random civilian…

well then, she’ll have to keep you safe

she’ll keep you safe in her apartment, whether you want to be there or not.

“every single thing i do, i do it to keep you safe.”

miguel (won’t be writing in spanish cause i don’t know spanish srry guys) (but he def calls you cute nicknames in spanish)

HEHHEHEHEE (my bad im just literally in love)

gwen but like 10000000 times more intense

the moment he lays eyes on you, babes you’re FUCKED

he’s snatching you up

however! the first thing he’ll check is if you’re super important to the “safety” of the timeline

no offense but ur not at all important saurrr FREE GAMEE

he’s definitely kidnapping you and keeping you hostage at HQ

he doesn’t bother with the whole stalking thing or becoming friends or anything like that

he doesn’t care if you don’t want to come with him, your opinions do not matter to him at all

he believes that he’s your protector, that everything that he’s doing is for your own good

you don’t know what’s best for yourself, only miguel knows what’s best for you (at least that’s what he thinks)

his only goal is to keep you with him, he wants a family and he believes that with you… he can achieve his dreams

if you’re a part of the Spider Society, Miguel can’t really do anything to you without other people noticing or disrupting the timeline

but yk… it’s better to be a rando from whatever universe to have miguel’s attention (but that’s just my opinion i suppose)

“you are mine. you will never leave me.”

hobie (will not be writing his british accent sorry im bad at accents)

i love him he’s so funny

you’ve been friends for a long time, he was in a band with you before he quit

he doesn’t really stay in one place for long

he’s a lot like a mix of gwen and miles

he believes keeping you safe is by staying close to you, but he also watches over you when you’re alone

he falls for you because of how positive you are, you never talk badly about anyone, but you’re always down to do anything.

you always join him for every protest, at his every show

he flirts with you constantly, loving how you blush away at the attention

constantly giving you attention and love, but a little manipulative about it at the same time

he never wants to kidnap you or keep you hostage, it’s against everything he stands for

he knows that if you didn’t like him, you’d never be by his side

so he believes that keeping you free is what keeps you near him

“we’re free birds, (y/n). with you by my side, we’re unstoppable.”

pavitr (aged up!) (this is gonna be very non-yandere tbh) (ILOVEHIM)

my little cutie pie i love him

i can’t really imagine being a yandere type character but he would be similar in miles and hobie

no kidnapping or stealing tho

slight stalking, just watching over you all the time, making sure you’re safe

he’s my little cutie pie moroenfakds

he’s flirty and funny

you’d be classmates when you meet him

you’d click very quickly tbh he’s just so easy to get along with

he’s absolutely terrified of your parents, very respectful tho so your parents love him

very passionate about how much he likes you, would quite literally shout it from the rooftops (and he does every day)

ugh i love him

"you're my world, (y/n). i love you so much."

#like and reblog <3 #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere peter parker x reader #yandere spiderman #yandere marvel #yandere peter b parker #yandere gwen #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere pavitr #yandere spiderverse #yandere hobie brown #yandere miles morales #peter b parker x reader #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #gender neutral reader #kidnapping #stalking #manipulation #across the spiderverse

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Love is Stored in the Cat: A Nepeta Leijon Character Study

I guess these are a series now! I also have a request for Feferi in my inbox that I'll get around to eventually.

SO! Dear, sweet Nepeta.

Nepeta is the troll that is most against the existence of the hemocaste.

I believe the Ultimate Self speech was originally going to be from her, not Davepetasprite^2.

She's bad at shipping.

These all make her extremely impurrtant!!!

So furst of all, I'm going to start with the same disclaimer as my Eridan essay (go read that first!!! It sets up a lot of ideas that I'm expanding on here), which is that the things Hussie says are going to be lowered in value, because he likes to play coy about plot stuff. I'm also not counting anything but the actual text as canon, and even with in that text, I'm counting everything after GAME OVER as soft canon - a suggestion of what would have been, often truncated for time, often a deliberate middle finger to the shitty fandom.

Okay, so with that squared away!

Nepeta Says Fuck The Hemocaste

I'm not going to bother doing a deep dive on Nepeta's characterization, because fur the most part, I think the fandom more or less gets her right - she wears her heart (h33h33) on her sl33ve, after all! She's a very sweet little catgirl who loves roleplay and shipping, who is also a vicious hunter of wild beasts and lives in a cave. She's very nice and friendly, but has a tough streak and a spine.

She also says fuck the hemocaste, why does that even exist:

CT: D --> Your fraternization with the base classes have 100sened your morals, can't you see this AC: :33 < no! i dont care, they are fun AC: :33 < and i dont know anything about classes or bases or blood color, it doesn't matter! AC: :33 < what does gr33n blood even mean! it doesnt mean anything to me and it shouldnt mean anything to anyone else!

This is a radical stance not outright shared by any of the other trolls. Aradia calls highbloods "hateful sn0bs" that she and Tavros shouldn't have "ever had anything t0 d0 with", the highbloods are, of course, all casteist to varying degrees, and even Karkat seems fairly accepting of the class divide, at one point taunting Vriska that her rejection from the blue team is "ANOTHER INFURIATING VICTORY FOR GUTTER BLOOD OVER ARISTOCRACY". Not to mention his long-held dream of becoming a threshecutioner.

Even Feferi, despite saying to Eridan that "W-E AR-E NOT B-ETT-ER T)(AN ANYBODY!!!!!", is actually perfectly comfortable with the caste system's existence, comparing having to stop using her royal typing quirk to "peasant-IFICATING" herself - and let's not forget that a Beforus under her rule had its caste system 100% intact.

This means that Nepeta is the ONLY troll who has said, in no uncertain terms, that the caste system should not exist. It's stupid, it's bad, and it doesn't meowtter!

AND SHE'S RIGHT.

But she's never able to fully express this opinion, which brings us to:

A COMPLICKATED RELATIONSHIP WITH EQUIUS

Now, before I say anything, I must insist that I do believe these two work as good moirails. That does not, however, stop them from being 13, and therefore, being poor to each other the way 13-year-olds sometimes are. I don't think they should break up; I think they should re-examine certain dynamics, and I think they need some space to breathe apart from each other.

Equius has a lot of problems, which I won't get into overmuch here, because... that's a whole essay on its own (are you people seeing a trend yet). But with regards to Nepeta specifically, he's extremely controlling and protective, to the point where she's a little scared of him before the game begins:

AC: :33 < well it does sound like it will be a lot of fun but i think i should get purrmission first GC: BL4R!!!!! GC: TH4TS SO STUP1D GC: H3S NOT TH3 BOSS OF YOU AC: :33 < i know! AC: :33 < but still im kind of scared of him and i think purrhaps its best to just run it by him first so there isnt a kerfuffle about it or anything

She's also afraid to tell him about her crush on Karkat, since she knows he doesn't like Karkat:

AC: :33 < well AC: :33 < i have never told anybody this not even my moirail AC: :33 < heh, actually hes the LAST guy i might tell, he so wouldnt appurrve X33 AC: :33 < but yes i have liked somebody for quite some time, but alas he doesnt know it

By the time they end their game, she's gotten over this fear, seeing as she spends many hours curled up with Equius in a pile of robotics parts, but it still must be noted that they have some issues in their relationship that were never resolved, primarily on Equius's end. What this means for Nepeta, however, is that in addition to setting her up as the most outright anti-classism troll, the comic sets her up to be socially isolated due to her moirail's paranoia about letting her associate with both lowbloods (seeing them as bad influences) OR other highbloods, seeing them as dangerous.

He's not entirely wrong - his refusal to allow her to participate in FLARP kept her from winding up entangled in the horrible chain of revenge, as Tavros alludes:

AT: iT'S PROBABLY FOR THE BEST, AT: tHAT YOU LISTEN TO HIM, AC: :33 < i dont know AC: :33 < you think so? AT: wELL, AT: iF YOU DIDN'T LISTEN TO HIM BEFORE, AT: yOU MIGHT HAVE PLAYED GAMES WITH US BEFORE, AT: aND SOMETHING BAD MIGHT HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU, AC: :33 < hmm purrhaps

But he's still wrong. And it's probably an uncontrolled manifestation of his Heir of Void abilities - he's both consciously and unconsciously hiding her from other people.

This isn't to say she doesn't stand up for herself! Many of her discussions with Equius are pseudo-arguments, and she does get her way often enough, managing to get him to roleplay with her, and managing to get him back in the roboti% pile to talk about his feelings about Aradia. She also talks to the humans explicitly against Equius's orders, although she's keeping it a sneakret from him:

NEPETA: :33 < but equius already furbid me from doing that :(( NEPETA: :33 < not that i am listening to him, but shhhhh! :33 KARKAT: WAIT, HE DID? KARKAT: OK, THEN AS YOUR LEADER I ORDER YOU TO RP WITH THEM AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. BE AS OBNOXIOUS ABOUT IT AS YOU CAN. NEPETA: :33 < yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

But the fact that she has to tiptoe around him like this speaks to them having issues in their relationship that go unexamined and unresolved, especially since it's clear that Nepeta really would like to be friends with more people, were Equius not getting in her way. So, even though I do think they are good moirails for each other - they clearly genuinely, deeply care about one another. But they could use some relationship counselling.

In fact, Jasprosesprite^2 outright calls her lonely:

JASPROSESPRITE^2: Or the girl who likes ships! Cause they made her less lonely. ;3

So, she's anti-hemocaste and lonely, two character traits that were set up and never resolved. And beclaws this is Nepeta, in her honor, I'm going to talk about a third:

Her Unrequited Crush On Karcat

She has the BIGGEST flushed crush on Karkat. It's seen on her shipping wall twice, once with the word OTP on it.

And, despite never discussing it with her moirail, Nepeta mentions it once to Jaspersprite, and once to Jasprosesprite^2.

Now, I'm not really here to debate on the validity of KatNep - I think it's fine, even if I don't personally ship it, and don't personally think it would work out (there are lots of indications that they wouldn't work out, including Jasprosesprite^2 outright saying so). However, her crush on Karkat is both complicated and creates some interesting setups for her character. I am going to discuss it fairly critically either way, so KatNep shippers have been warned.

A lot of her feelings about Karkat - and about shipping in general - wind up being heavily interlinked with her status as a Hero of Heart, so I'm going to expand on it more there. But what I will note in this section is the fact that, despite Nepeta insisting twice that she doesn't think Karkat knows about her crush on her:

NEPETASPRITE: :33 < it was karkat NEPETASPRITE: :33 < but i never told him and im pretty sure he never found out how i felt!

He tooootally did:

KARKAT: OK, BUT TO BE FAIR, I'M PRETTY SURE SHE'S STILL OBSESSED WITH ME. KARKAT: IT'S A VERY UNFORTUNATE, VERY RED AND VERY UNREQUITED SITUATION I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TIPTOE AROUND FOR A LONG TIME, OK?

Interpret that how you will for shipping purposes, but I want to propose that this is a reflection of their statuses as Heart and Blood players. Heart, despite its players' obsessions with romance, is not the romance aspect, Blood is. Karkat displays this very same romantic acumen when he tells Dave that he's known Terezi and Gamzee were a thing for a long time, despite everyone else on the meteor trying to keep it a secret from him. Heart is, instead, about identity, feelings, motivations, souls, and self. In other words:

Nepeta Is Kind Of Bad At Shipping

Let's take a look at those shipping walls.

Let's break this down a little. Nepeta's ships are not entirely wrong, but even the successful ones are kind of wrong. Here's what I mean. We've already discussed how Equius and Nepeta's moirallegiance has some... issues in it. If we go down her list of ships that actually do happen, most of them have some issues in them!

Aradia expresses her regret for getting together with Equius in the Ministrife. Kanaya and Rose suffer some major relationship problems when Rose starts drinking, to the point Karkat feels a need to step in as an auspice. Karkat and Gamzee fail, as Karkat is not calmed by Gamzee, and Gamzee stops listening to Karkat. And while Sollux and Feferi seem to be fairly healthy, after they both wind up in the Furthest Ring, he's pretty much always next to Aradia - he and Feferi don't even get to exchange words with each other once they're in the Furthest Ring. Purrsonally, I think he and Feferi are meant to end up as moirails, but shhhh.

So what's happening here? Well, this goes back to her identity as a Heart player. Heart is concerned with feelings and motivations.

They simply want to understand the one thing we all are stuck with for our entire lives, i.e. our own minds. Forging an identity is extremely important to the Heart-bound, and every decision and action goes toward building a coherent narrative of their own story. That isn't to say Heart-bound don't care deeply for their friends and allies; they just have a tendency to assume that everyone is as concerned with identity as they are.

Nepeta's shipping has also been associated with her isolation and loneliness. When you put this together, it implies that Nepeta's shipping is about her desire to understand others, and much of her ships are based on one of the parties having feelings, regardless of compatibility, feasibility, or broader implications. After all, despite the fact that she has pretty terrible romantic acumen, she IS able to instinctively identify that Eridan's advances toward her were insincere:

NEPETASPRITE: :33 < well ok i guess eridan hit on me a few times NEPETASPRITE: :33 < but his advances always struck me as cr33py and insincere

And that Karkat secretly LOVES and RESPECTS his friends:

JASPROSESPRITE^2: On the contrary Nepeta. You deserve someone who will RESPECT and ADORE you. NEPETASPRITE: :33 < well... yes NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i always hoped to find someone like that some day NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i dunno maybe youre right but in spite of whatever problems he might have i always felt like i saw something in him that made me think he could be that purrson!

Or knowing that Equius loves to play games, and still feels sad about Aradia exploding:

AC: :33 < i s33 right through your stupid act, who are you trying to kid! AC: :33 < look how you go out of your way to use words that have x's in them so that you can use your silly purrcent signs AC: :33 < or use these absurd words that you can shoehorn a '100' into, even if its not strictly replacing 'loo'!!! AC: :33 < you are so transpurrent AC: :33 < i can tell you like to play games, d33p down you are a guy who likes to play games! AC: :33 < i can smell a guy who likes to play games from so fur away with this nose, you have no idea X33

NEPETA: :33 < she was so happy, just like she used to be, and she said she would s33 you soon! EQUIUS: D --> That's a nice thought, and thank you for sharing it EQUIUS: D --> But it was only a dream, and will surely have no consequence in reality NEPETA: :33 < equius? NEPETA: :33 < are those f33lings i an detecting with my wiggly whiskery nose? EQUIUS: D --> Maybe

Because feelings, and not relationships, are her actual domain.

And speaking of Heart powers...

Nepeta and the Ultimate Self

So from this point forward, I'm going to assume you're more or less agreeing with my take that at some point after Game Over, Hussie - for whatever reason - gave up on his original ending, and wound up truncating his ideas so he could finish the comic faster. I go more into detail about that here.

So, in this hypothetical original ending, I firmly believe that the speech about the Ultimate Self would have come from Nepeta. First, let's take a look at what the "Ultimate Self" entails, as it appears within the comic:

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < everything that ever happens to every version of you is an important part of your ultimate self... like a superceding bodyless and timeless persona that crosses the boundaries of paradox space and unlike god tiers or bubble ghosts or whatever, it really IS immortal DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but in your physical form there are all these partitions in your mind that prevent you from remembering any of that which makes your existence f33l totally linear DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < which is probably for the best! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in a regular body s33ing all that would be too overwhelming ... DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and after it sinks in for a while you start coming to this understanding of a greater self DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < maybe i "got it" quicker though because of the two people i was and their aspects DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < understanding heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < nepeta never got to make much headway with her aspect but shes finally gettin the chance DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the time aspect is all about running into different versions of yourself so you kinda get confronted with it in a really literal way that can be disturbing DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < obviously davesprite stuggled with that too, but now its fine DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < hes fr33 from worrying about it all and what it means for his place in reality DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < because he can s33 now all his selves have relevance in painting the full picture of who he truly is DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < im not COMPLETELY sure because im not like some sort of ASPECT MASTER but DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < my avian slash feline intuition tells me that all roads will lead you here eventually DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < gaining the d33pest possible understanding of any aspect will bring you to the same final conclusion about your ultimate self

Now, I believe - and I hope you'll agree - that it's kind of lame, narratively, for Davesprite to have been set up with so much angst about not being the "real Dave," and for Nepeta to have all her issues with loneliness and shyness, and for these two specific iterations of each other to have never interacted, but suddenly getting double-prototyped fixes all of their problems, and they achieve Ultimate Selfhood despite being two total strangers to each other. So let's instead break down the more salient points about what Ultimate Selfhood entails, divorced from the fact that it's Davepetasprite^2 doing the narrating:

Every player in the game possesses an "Ultimate Self," an ultimate culmination of all their experiences and memories, specifically referred to as a "persona"

Normally, people are not aware of this, because it would be too overwhelming to deal with so many memories and iterations of each other.

Everyone will achieve Ultimate Selfhood eventually as the final culmination of their understanding of their aspect.

Heart is all about the nuances of a distributed self.

Let's talk about that last one some more, and by that I mean, let's see what Calliope has to say about it:

TT: I don't know why it had to be this way for me. Juggling these two waking selves at once. TT: I guess I'm used to it, but it still makes for a pretty intense existence. TT: Do you even know what the deal with that is? Like is there any precedent in your readings? UU: i don't know aboUt precedent, bUt it makes plenty of sense to me as the type of path one might expect for a hero of heart. UU: a path rUled by the heart aspect can be a joUrney of splintered self. UU: that is, the player's being may exhibit the same kind of fragmentation which certain classes coUld caUse in others. UU: i think this is what has triggered yoUr dUal-awareness between waking and dream selves, thoUgh it woUld not sUrprise me if the symptoms manifested in even more ways than this.

Now, Dirk has a clawmplicated relationship with his alternate selves, given that he's a Prince, but Nepeta wouldn't have the same struggles, or at least, not to the same degree. The problem is, hampered by Equius and her own shyness about discussing her thoughts and feelings with others:

NEPETASPRITE: :33 < i get so shy and worried what people might think of me if i say how i f33l NEPETASPRITE: :33 < im always so scared that they wont f33l the same way or just think im stupid or pathetic or something

She never actually gets to explore this part of herself.

But What If... She Did?

The way I imagine the original ending going is that each troll that gets saved by John's interference in the timeline then asks John to help them fix their own mistakes, thereby saving somebody else. Each successive trip through the meteor brings new character development, and also riddles the comic with progressively more password pages, which I think would be really funny. And throughout all this the Game Over team is searching for Vriska, Meenah, and the treasure, and resolving their arcs that way, so it's not like they would be replaced - they're the ones who get to kill LE. The process, in my mind, goes like this:

Terezi asks John to save Vriska, and prevent her from getting too spades with Gamzee, as these are her two greatest regrets.

Vriska obviously had great regrets about killing Tavros, both pre- and post-retcon, so she asks for his death to be prevented.

Tavros staying alive means that he and Gamzee wind up hashing out some stuff - Gamzee mentions that he feels "So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu" while talking to Tavros, and Tavros reciprocates the friendship and also - interestingly - acknowledges Gamzee's religion, calling it beautiful even if he doesn't necessarily believe in it. This is interesting because Karkat's inability to do so is explicitly one of the reasons their moirallegiance broke down. So having Tavros back, alive, means that he and Gamzee would likely end up in some sort of relationship, probably pale despite flushed leanings, and would bring Gamzee back into the fold.

Gamzee would then be like, yeah, wow, that time I killed Nepeta and Equius was pretty bad, huh? Especially since his decision to hang onto his friends' bodies and prototype them is often interpreted as him genuinely feeling bad about his dead friends (he tells Kurloz to shut up when Kurloz mentions all the dead friends, and his religion seems to be about a paradise he wants to share with his friends anyway). So he'd ask John to prevent him from killing them, resulting in the two of them getting to live.

Things get much more hypothetical from here, since so much of the character dynamics would have changed, but I think by this point, Equius might command ask John to let him say goodbye to Aradiabot before she explodes, which he expresses feeling very sad about. However, in doing so, John and Aradiabot end up in the same room, and when she realizes that he has the ability to change the timeline without repercussions, she'd seize him by the arm and demand that he take her back in time, to before she died. After all, she expresses regrets about her reckless actions, and how she always felt like it was all one big setup.

She would take Aradia's place in the Vriska revenge chain, being once more freed of her robot chassis, and from there, would trick Doc Scratch and the Handmaiden into thinking everything was still going according to their designs. Meanwhile, Alive!Aradia would be hanging out at Equius's place, borrowing his void powers to avoid notice, coordinating a new timeline that keeps the beats of the original (too much deviation causes unpredictability, and an paradox'd timeline offshoot without John's direct interference would still become doomed), but allows them greater freedom and the ability to overcome the machinations of Doc Scratch and associates.

This would also prevent Sollux from becoming so self-loathing, since it's no longer "his fault" that Aradia dies, although he winds up in that hole again after Feferi gets killed. Now that his Aradia is alive, he wouldn't feel like he might as well stay in the bubbles because his closest companions are there, so he'd make it to the end, and would ask John to prevent Feferi's death.

Eridan still dies; he's so disconnected and isolated from all his friends that his course of actions is largely unaffected even by everybody else's timeline tweaks. But before Feferi can suggest bringing him back, Karkat would butt in.

The Friendship Troll should be the one to demand that ALL of their friends be revived, especially if they had everyone except only one guy, and Karkat and Eridan are heavily implied to be moirails anyway. The course of Karkat's fixes are so comprehensive, and primarily romance-based, that the end result of this final loop is everybody not only being alive, but god-tiered, with appropriate character development.

Now, where Nepeta's Heart powers would play into all of this is that she would start to notice something going on. After all, Heart players are sensitive to their splintered selves, and (Nepeta) is probably much closer to Nepeta than regular doomed timeline offshoots. As the loops continue, and Nepeta has more and more time to talk to people, and meets her dead alternate selves, and even meets (Nepeta), she starts to awaken to her Ultimate Self - to come into possession of alternate memories.

And if the Ultimate Self is a very soul-y kind of concept, such that Heart players have a natural advantage in coming to understand it, then isn't it a natural fit that a Rogue of Heart - one who steals from Heart or steals Heart for others - would be naturally inclined to share the wisdom of her alternate selves, and even the very concept of the Ultimate Self, with her friends?

Because the Ultimate Self is actually, in my opinion, a pretty good narrative device. It turns the sadness of the dead and doomed timelines into something littersweet instead, and makes it so any weirdness regarding time travel and not really knowing your friends anymore will eventually be resolved, even if off-screen.

It's not really narratively satisfying when Davepetasprite^2 suddenly comes into being and reaches enlightenment, but imagine if instead it's a post-character development Nepeta comforting Davesprite on his relevance, or Jade on her loneliness, or John on not really knowing these new post-retcon versions of his friends? It would feel a lot better, since in this hypothetical, she would have reached that point after on-screen character development. Being able to share her true self with her friends on the meteor - by necessity, since what else are they going to be doing for three years - leads to her finally being able to fulfill her role as a Rogue of Heart.

Also, at some point during these repeated meteor trips, she dates Karkat (whether that's successful or not, I'll leave to reader interpretation - you already know where I stand), fulfilling Jaspersprite's musing that she might only be able to date Karkat after she dies.

So that's two out of thr33 of her outstanding plot hooks resolved... okay. So, I try not to make these essays into ship propaganda, but hear me out:

Hate Is Stored In The FefNep

Okay, so, remember that thing about how Feferi is actually a huge casteist hypocrite? Well, let's also note that the comic, post-Murderstuck, seems to put Nepeta and Feferi together a lot - they're a Commodore and Rear Admiral in the ghost pirate army, respectively, and they also wind up as Fefetasprite. So I think it's not entirely out of left field to say that these two were implied to have SOMETHING going on.

And that something... is a difference in political views.

I mean, let's be real, there's a reason Fefetasprite is the most explode-prone after Tavrisprite. Miss "The Hemocaste is Stupid and Shouldn't Matter" vs. Miss "I Love Being A Princess And Call Jade Hornless and Finless (Derogatory)"? Come on, tell me you don't see it.

Without getting too much into Feferi, this hypocrisy, and unwillingness to check her privilege (so glad I found an excuse to use that term unironically), are probably her greatest character flaws - ie, the things you would expect the story to address about her. Meanwhile, one of Nepeta's flaws, which she laments to Jasproseprite^2, is that she feels too shy to talk about her feelings to other people, leading to her having never expressed her views on the hemocaste to anyone but Equius.

I think that they initially think they'd be friends. Each one of them would go "oh man, this other girl is soooo cute, I wish I could talk to her more often!"

And then, once they do, they realize they fucking hate each other. Nepeta would go "X00 < you are such a hypocrite who f33ls like youre better than all of us!!!" and Feferi would go "You're suc)( an uneducated glubbing P-EASANT! 3X0" and then they'd claw each others' eyes out. It would be so funny, and if a homestuck ship isn't extremely fucking funny, then why are we even here.

But more importantly, this would further them along into resolving each others' arcs - Feferi would be forced to grapple with the greater implications of classism, and Nepeta - who is shown having a spine the most in defiance of somebody else - would grow more aggressive about being open about her feelings in defiance of Feferi. Even Equius would get roped into it in a positive way - you can just imagine him going "D --> Can I really believe my auricular sponge clots D --> Nepeta, you are finally taking interest in politi%" and be 100% on board with teaching her so Feferi won't be able to call her uneducated.

And then for flushed, I dunno! Karkat's an option, and Jade and Jake also both love the fuck out of furries, and Tavros seems nice. But yeah I'll die on the fefnep hate ship. Guys it would be so funny.

Thank you as always for reading! Let me know if there's a troll you want to hear me ramble about next.

#homestuck #nepeta leijon #feferi peixes #equius zahhak

[solarmorrigan]

Hi! Could you possibly do 'You don't have to stay.' With Steddie from the angst writing prompt, please? Thank you in advance 😊

Hi! My apologies again for taking two weeks to get to this, but thank you for sending it! This one was fun to write :D

[No warnings; happier ending this time, I promise]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

-

Eddie feels like an idiot.

He just – he got so wrapped up in everything. In the way Steve has been keeping him company every evening, in the way they have dinner together and play cards together and watch movies together and fucking fall asleep together (Eddie and Wayne’s new place is bigger than their old one, but it’s not like the government sprung for a house with a goddamn guest room or anything). He just forgot that Steve isn’t really meant to be part of his life.

No, Eddie just has Steve on loan.

He is abruptly reminded of this fact one afternoon when he hits Family Video with the intent to pester Steve (and maybe even rent a movie) and instead stumbles right into the tail end of a conversation.

Maryellen Someone-or-Other from the year below Eddie (he’s never really seen the point in remembering names unless they’re a friend or a foe; he figures his brainspace has better uses than the names of people who don’t give a shit about him one way or the other) is leaning over the counter, making eyes at Steve. She’s practically batting her eyelashes and resting her weight in a way that puts the low-scooped neckline of her shirt prominently on display.

“Are you sure?” Maryellen is asking, bottom lip pouting out in a way that is, in Eddie’s opinion, far too obvious.

“Afraid so,” Steve replies with one of his softer smiles, like he might actually be sorry. “I already have plans tonight.”

And – plans? What plans? Eddie thought Steve would be coming over to his house tonight, like pretty much every night.

But then Steve’s eyes flick up from Maryellen and catch Eddie standing stupidly in front of the doors, and his smile widens a little, becomes something happier, sillier, and – oh. Eddie’s house is the plan. Right.

“Well,” Maryellen sighs, high and put-upon, pulling Steve’s attention back to her, “maybe next time.”

“Uh, yeah.” Steve nods. “Yeah, maybe.”

Maryellen glances Steve up and down one more time—and, seriously, obvious much?—before she straightens up and sashays past Eddie and out of the store. She doesn’t even seem to have a video with her. Had she come in just to ask Steve out?

And Steve had turned her down?

It’s not like Eddie is interested in what she’s selling, but he has eyes – Maryellen Whatserface isn’t the sort of date you just turn down. Not when she’s flirting and flashing her cleavage at you over the counter of your workplace. And she especially isn’t the type of date Steve Harrington turns down, certainly not to spend an evening sitting around in Eddie’s room doing a whole lot of nothing.

Of course, that’s not how Eddie sees it – not really. They’re not doing nothing if they’re talking, if they’re sharing stories or thoughts or even just dumb jokes. Not if they’re sitting quietly together because sometimes you can only be that type of quiet with someone who gets you. Not if Eddie is strumming random notes on his guitar and Steve is humming along, almost absently, like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it.

It isn’t nothing to Eddie, but to Steve – well, now that Eddie thinks about it, Steve is probably just putting his life on hold so he can be a good friend to Eddie in the aftermath of all the Upside Down fuckery.

Which is very kind of him, obviously (which is apparently just the sort of person Steve actually is; sure, he complains a whole hell of a lot, but Eddie doubts if there’s a single damn thing Steve won’t do if he thinks he can help someone really in trouble), but Eddie doesn’t need him to do that. He doesn’t need any kind of pity friendship. He doesn’t need Steve to put all his shit on hold just to take care of him, only to end up resenting him because he can’t go anywhere or do anything because he’s too busy being the goddamn babysitter.

Eddie doesn’t need that.

“Hey.” Steve is the one leaning the counter now (and he doesn’t exactly have Maryellen’s assets, but damn if the position doesn’t make his shirt stretch appealingly over his chest, anyway) and making eyes at Eddie, except they’re sort of confused-and-concerned eyes, which makes sense, since Eddie still hasn’t moved out of the damn doorway. “You okay?”

“Just fine,” Eddie says, snapping back into motion. “I’m here to pick a movie for tonight.”

“Y’know, I work at the video store,” Steve says, arching one heavy brow. “I’m here right now, even. You could just let me pick something to bring home.”

Eddie almost twitches at the casual slip of the tongue – home. Like Steve doesn’t have other places to be, a better house to actually go home to.

“I could,” Eddie drawls, “but I have it on good authority—my own, in fact—that your taste in films is not to be trusted.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Just because you can’t appreciate Sly or a good underdog story–”

“Two hours of dudes punching each other, Steve.”

“That’s not all the movie was, and you know it!”

“Two hours!”

And just like that, they fall into their usual banter, but somewhere in the back of his mind, Eddie can’t quite let go of what he’s been reminded of.

It follows him back home (to his home) with the movie in his hand (a decidedly non-sports-related movie) and dogs his thoughts and winds him up, and by the time Steve has gotten off work and is leaving his shoes politely by the door, Eddie is – well, he’s a little on edge.

A bit twitchy.

Maybe more than a bit.

Maybe he might be watching Steve, looking for signs that he doesn’t want to be there, that he has better places to be, that Steve regrets turning down Maryellen (if that even was her name? Now that Eddie thinks about it, it might have been Marie. Hard to say).

Maybe he watches Steve carefully as they make dinner, and as they eat, and as Steve heckles his movie choice just for the hell of it, and maybe he jumps on it a little too hard when, as the evening gets later, Steve glances at the clock and sighs.

“You know, you don’t have to stay,” Eddie says, shooting for perfectly casual.

Steve, who had been partway through rubbing tiredly at his eyes (probably about time to get those contacts out; he always forgets, and Eddie is always reminding him), pauses and pulls his hand away from his face to look blearily at Eddie. “What?”

“Just, if you have other places to be, y’know?” Eddie shrugs. “You don’t have to stay.”

Steve blinks. “What other places would I be right now?”

Eddie shrugs. He’s very casual about this and not worked up at all, as evidenced by all the easy shrugging he’s doing. “Oh, I don’t know. With Maryellen, maybe? She seemed pretty interested in taking you out tonight.”

A confused sort of look is working its way onto Steve’s face, like he has no idea what the hell Eddie is talking about, like he hadn’t just turned down a date earlier today. “Do you mean Madeline?” Shit, right, that was it. “Why would I want to be with her? Dude, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“I don’t know, Steve!” Eddie snaps, tossing his arms up in hopes that it’ll get some of his nervous energy out. “I just know that you’ve been here babysitting me almost every night for weeks–”

“I’m not babysitting, what are you–”

“And I figure that maybe there’s other shit you’d rather be doing! Places to be, things to do, people to fuck, whatever.”

And– Oops.

Eddie hadn’t quite meant to let all that out. And now Steve looks offended.

“What the hell is your problem tonight?” Steve asks, sitting up from where he’d been slouching on Eddie’s bed. “Did I do something to make you think I don’t wanna be here, or what?”

“I – well – do you want to be here?” Eddie splutters. “You’re a popular guy, and you’re turning down dates to sit around in my room all night? Doesn’t check out, man!”

Unnervingly, Steve doesn’t immediately snap back. He just stares at Eddie for a long moment.

“So, what? You think I’d rather be at some high school party? Drunk off my ass? Making out with some girl who doesn’t know me or give a shit about me?” Steve finally asks, voice low and heavy. “What the hell have I done since you’ve actually gotten to know me that made you think I still want all that shit?”

Eddie opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t exactly have a specific defense.

Steve scoffs. “Did you ever think that I just want to spend time with you? That I like being here, that I like you? But fine, whatever.” He slides off the bed and stands up. “You want me to fuck off so badly, I’ll go.”

And with that, he stalks out of Eddie’s room.

Eddie is so busy reeling with the “I like you” of it all that it isn’t until he hears Steve shuffling with his shoes by the door that he manages to snap into action.

“Steve!” he calls down the hall, running full tilt for the entryway, because he doesn’t know much, but he knows he needs to stop Steve before he leaves, before some kind of irreparable damage is done.

Steve doesn’t pause, reaching for the door and pulling it open, and what Eddie means to do is step past him, put a hand on the door, keep Steve there just a little longer so they can talk.

What actually happens is that Eddie’s momentum carries him flying right past Steve, into the door, yanking the knob from Steve’s hand and slamming the whole thing shut.

“Eddie, what the fuck!” Steve exclaims, (rightfully) startled.

“I don’t actually want you to fuck off, okay?” Eddie insists, because he is a god of eloquence when under unexpected pressure. “I want… I really want the opposite of that, actually.”

Steve shoots him a disbelieving look. “So you were being a dick because you want me to stay,” he says flatly.

“Nooot exactly,” Eddie draws the words out, reaching up and twisting his fingers in his hair while he tries to think. “I was being a dick because I want you to stay but I was afraid you wouldn’t want to.”

Steve continues to stare at him. “Eddie, that makes no goddamn sense.”

“I didn’t say it did! I think we know each other well enough for you to know by now that I am barely in charge of my brain, Steve!” Eddie huffs. “I just – I don’t get why you would want to hang around here when you probably have better options.”

“No, see, that’s the part that doesn’t make sense,” Steve says, his voice going a little softer. “You thinking I wouldn’t want to stay, or that there’s anywhere better for me to be. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else. I just… want to be here with you.”

“You…” Eddie looks over at Steve, really looks, and catches the anxiety sitting in his expression, and the hopeful spark in his wide eyes, and realizes that he’s absolutely had the wrong end of the stick. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a shrug that’s just about as casual as Eddie has been all night.

“Well then.” Eddie reaches up and slides the deadbolt back into place before giving the door a little pat; its services will no longer be required. Then, before he can think better of it, he reaches out and takes Steve’s hand, threading their fingers together and giving him a little tug back towards the hall. “Come on.”

“And where are you taking me, exactly?” Steve asks, amused and something a bit like relieved.

Eddie continues pulling him down the hall, heading for his room, and tosses a grin over his shoulder. “I am taking you exactly to where we both want to be.”

And if the way Steve crowds him over the threshold and into his bedroom is to be trusted, they are perfectly on the same page.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #eddie is a disaster and we love him for it and so does steve it's fine #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

[daisybianca]

pairing: lewis hamilton x femalereader

summary: lewis gives you secretly his number. you're hesitant to call him at first, but when you do, things get a little much more interesting.

warning: mentions of sexual activities, cursing words

(a/n): this is part one. Here's part two and part three.

YOU WERE STANDING in the loud crowd of people. Each one of them holding out a shirt, a picture, or a shirt to sign, including you.

You held out a white hat with a Mercedes emblem on it, hoping Lewis would notice it.

When he finally reached you, he looked at you for a few seconds and smiled.

What the...?!

He signed the hat and moved into the next person.

And when you turned around ready to leave, you looked down at your hat, seeing a phone number written on it.

Fuck.

"My best friend is a total idiot," your best friend shouted from the balcony of your apartment.

"Stop calling me an idiot!" You climbed out of bed. "Or at least try to be discreet with your very generous opinions about me and get your ass inside! I've got some deliciously hot neighbors who don't particularly need to know everything about me."

"Have you even been listening to me this whole time that I've been lecturing you about matters of life and death?" She sighed dramatically.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "A random guy giving me his number isn't a matter of life a death, if you ask me."

"Did you just call Lewis Hamilton a random guy? My husband of nine years?"

"Oh, stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl," You brought your fingers to your temple and massaged the flesh there as if the movement could erase the brutal headache. "Besides, you dragged me to that race. Maybe it's your chance to hook up with your crush-since-for-ever!"

Your best friend's eyes narrowed. "What are you suggesting, filthy woman?"

"You shoukd call him. I'll give you his number right away." You strolled to find your back, but a habd found your wrist, stopping you.

"You're a mad woman. That's a fact."

You fake smiled. "Stop complimenting me that much. I don't think red suits on my cheeks."

"I swear, you're insane. The only reason I'm still by your side is because until 11th grade, you had my back when I sneaked out for parties, hooking up with whoever had a penis and a 6 pack."

You turned to face your best friend, hands in your hips and lips tightly shut together.

"You're seriously going to turn down this offer?" She asked.

"I wouldn't exactly call it an offer."

Your best friend rolled her eyes. "Yes. I'd call it stupidity, actually!" She waved her hands dramatically in the air. "THE Lewis Hamilton flirted with you, and you didn't even notice. Then he gave you secretly his number, and you're freaking going to ignore it?!"

"And what am I supposed to do about it? He's just a normal guy. Don't make him look like he's some God himself."

"First of all, yeah. Lewis is a God himself. He's mouth-watering hot, almost an 8 times champion, has a very cute dog, an 8 pack to stare at all day long, and much, much money," your best friend explained. "You should definitely call him. At least try to figure out why he gave you his number." She added in a calmer tone.

You exhaled and grabbed the white hat curled up under the sheets of your king sized bed. Gazing at the number, you then bit your lips. "Fine," you gave in. "But I'll call him tomorrow so that I don't seem much desperate, okay?"

"He was the one to make a very, very bold first move, and now you're afraid of embarrassment?!" She growled. "Come on! We only live once. Live some adventure, have some great sex, and experience a true love! I haven't seen you going head over heels for someone except that John guy in college."

"It hasn't been a long time since college," you said, contemplating whether you should count the years or not. You choose the second one. "I'll call him tonight. But don't think I'm doing it because I'm actually interested! I'm doing it exclusively for you." You explained, playing with the hem of your summer blue dress. "He probably is an attention freak who only dates supermodels."

"Baby, I assure you," your best friend came and sat next to you, her hand wrapping around you and caressing your cheek. "Supermodels would kill to look like you."

A smile appeared on your lips, and you gazed at your best friend. She always had a special eay about cheering you up and getting you out of your moody and grumpy vibe.

"Tonight." You said.

This has many potential to go wrong, you thought.

You didn't like wrong. You like safe and steady. But what if your best friend was actually right? (For the very first time of your 20 years old friendship.)

"Tonight." She repeated and smirked.

You turned your head and analyzed the hat with the calligraphic black numbers on it.

This couldn't get any more embarrassing.

***

You let out a long, deep, and shaky breath, then dialed the number.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Three beebs later, a male voice answered the call. "Hello?" The tone was familiar and harsh, but you couldn't be entirely sure that it was him.

"Hey," your voice came out steady, much to your surprise.

"Who is it?" The man replied and now you were sure it was him.

The British accent.

"Um, I noticed a number written on my hat that you signed and--"

"You're the girl from the race?" He interrupted you very much, complicated thoughts that would sooner turn into much more complicated words.

"Yes," you replied hesitantly. "Maybe one of them, at least. In case you gave your number to a few more girls for fun."

A laughter sounded. It was bried but somehow contagious. "I assure you, love, I don't usually spread my number across my fans' hats and shirts."

Your senses kicked in, and the temperature rised in your body.

Love.

"So, why was I the chosen one?" You asked.

"Oh," Lewis growled. "Maybe I could answer that question face to face." He said and then added a few moments later, "Join me for dinner tonight, will you, love?"

You laughed. "Isn't it kind of early for us to meet?"

"I'm not going to kidnap you, I promise." You could basixally hear him smile on the other line. "You can bring a friend of your for more safety." He suggested.

"So that it could be two of us to be kidnapped, right?"

There was a moment of silence. "Not sure about that." He spoke a few seconds later. "I only want you to be honest."

You smiled.

Is he flirting with me?

Of course he's flirting with you, you idiot!

"Are you asking me out on a date?" You asked.

"Yes." He replied instantly. "I couldn't wait another torturing hour, anticipating a call or a text from you."

"Okay. I'm in then."

"What about tonight at 9 pm?" He asked.

It was about 7, so you guessed there was plenty of time to get ready.

"Yes, that'd be great." You smiled.

"Perfect. May I pick you up myself at nine?"

"I'm surely capable of driving my own car, don't you think?" You laughed.

"Maybe," he said. "But why actually do it if I can drive for you? I'll come pick you up myself, I promise."

"No cops, no kidnappers?" You joked.

"I promise."

Lewis Hamilton would drive for you...?

"Okay, then." You spoke. "See you tonight, Lewis. I'll text you the address."

You went to end the call, but he stopped you before tapping the red button. "Wait, wait--"

"Hmm?"

"What's your name, love?"

Your heart roared in your chest and your cheeks reddened.

You adored that nickname.

"Actually, this was the first thing that I would mention to a guy, but love sounds much better, don't you think?"

Lewis laughed. "Tell me your name, and I promise I'll use love every single time instead of it."

"Okay," you said. "I'm (y/n)."

A moment of silence occurred again. "Prettier than love, honestly."

"Maybe, but not when you're the one to say it." You smiled. "You know, that British accent can actually kill."

"Hmm," his voice sounded from the other line. "Weird thing. That is exactly what I could tell about your eyes, as well."

#f1 drivers #f1 #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula one #f1 memes #formula 1 memes #formula one oneshot #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton fanart #lewis hamilton 44 #lewis hamilton fanfic #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewishamiltonedit #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton social media au #lewis hamilton fluff #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #formula one fic #formula 1 one shot #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic

[insomniakisses]

Unexpected News and Welcome Additions

Character: Aemond Targaryen (HOTD)

Warnings/notes: swear words, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy, aegon being an ass, aemond being a sweet baby, daemon flipping his shit, protective momma rhaenyra, happy alicent, your rhaenyras daughter u can choose adopted or not, ooc daemon? Slight ooc aegon?

Taglist: @introverbatim, @neobanguniverse,

Part one.

“We have some news.” Aemond grins, standing abruptyly silencing the chatter at the table.

All eyes direct towards him and you can see the confusion on your mother’s face, her eyes darting between the two of you. Never the less you accept his hand allowing him to pull you up next to him.

“We, well..” you pause looking at daemon how his eyes seem to stare into your soul. “We are engaged!” You cheer awkwardly.

You can see otto smiling with a nod, while alicent seems to be piecing everything together and u know she knows with the dart of her eyes towards your stomach. Helaena smiling softly at you seeming excited to have someone to talk to about married life.

On the otherside if the table you see your family, your mother gaping at you while your brothers hold blank faces and you can see the clenched jaw of daemon. Yet, the king seemed to be joyfull. “Wonderful news my dear! You have made me a very proud grandsire!” He chuckles.

Thats when shit breaks loose, aegon just had to speak up. He snickers rolling his eyes saying “Dear brother is such a pushover isn’t he mother?” You see her give him a look to shut up but as always he pays it no mind “I mean fucking the whore is one thing but to marry her once pregnant? God what kind of hold has she on you?”

You’re eyes water when all eyes turn to you, closing them and flinching into Aemond’s hold when Daemon stands. Slamming his hand on the table claiming you must have been forces that the greens were taking u hostage that it was all a plan.

It seems your mother had had enough of the dramatics, sending the children to bed including Helaena and Aegon. Before clearing the room of her husband and the hand stating this was a matter for her, Alicent, Viserys and the two of you to navigate.

—

“So.. you are to be married then?” Your mother asks tentatively causing you to bow your head in shame.

“I planned to explain to you.. But we didnt know how to tell everyone and-“

“Its okay sweet child,” the queen hums grabbing your face and kissing your head. You can’t help relax in her hold, “I can’t say i am upset to be made a grandmother again!” She grins.

“And i a proud grandsire of another fine knight or beautiful princess” the king adds, looking at your mother as if to ask for her opinion. It’s only then that you realise shes crying, the sight making you well up to.

“My baby is all grown up” she chokes out wrapping you in her arms and leaving several firm kisses to your head. Her hand unconsciously rubbing your stomach.

“Your… not mad?” You ask cautiously and she chuckles and says “how, my sweetone, could i be mad at you for falling for a mischievous second son thats also your uncle” and you cant help chuckle at the similarity between you.

—

“I cant! I can’t! FUCK! OW! Make it stop-“ you screamed squeezing your mothers hand tight as the maesters told you to push again. Your body felt like it was on fire. But your mother and Alicents soothing words lessoned your fear, slightly. You had been in labour for almost the full day and the babe seemed to refuse to be born and despite your please they seemed reluctant to let Aemond in.

Well, your mother was. You knew why deep down she was afraid that if the choice was given he would sacrifice you to save the baby. You however, knew that he would not. The thought would never cross his mind. So you begged and plead once more for him stating you would not give girl until he was with you. A task they knew you very well might do so they sent for him and the second he held your hand kissing your head and telling you he was there, was the most safe and relaxed you had felt all day.

Your son came quickly after that, a heavy and healthy baby your mother had remarked kissing your head and leaving with Alicent after she muttered her own praises of her newest grandson.

—

“We should call him Aemond.” Your husband grinned, causing you to slap his shoulder.

“No, I’m not calling him after you.” You groaned.

“And why not!?” He huffs clearly disappointed and you give him a look, “do you want me to be moaning our son’s name while we fuck?”

He shudders audibly gagging at the thought. “Perhaps not.” He sighs.

The two of you had been arguing over a name for hours, your son sound asleep in his arms as he gently rocked him.

“We could call him after someone else though”

You muse, the thought making him look up at you quizzically. “Who?”

“I was thinking Laenor…” you whispered afraid he may reject the idea but he hums nodding in approval. “A fine name from a honourable namesake, a fitting name for our little knight.”

You smile up at him, thanking the gods you got such a loving gentle husband.

“Should I let the maesters know then?” He asks, setting Laenor in your arms gently. “Yes, and could you send my mother in on your way? Id like to tell her first.”

—

“LAENOR GET BACK HERE!” You hear from your place by your husband, both of your turning to see the young prince holding what seemed to be a dragon egg while your Aegon chased after him.

The sight making you laugh, especially when Aegon reaches for the egg only for your son to dodge and throw the egg at his father. Aemond catching it with ease.

“Bested by a 3 year old, brother?” He taunts him, Aegon rolling his eyes in response snatching the egg back and placing it into the pot of hot coals by your bed side.

“Well excuse me for picking an egg out for my future nephew!” He defends, rolling his eyes when Aemond corrects him saying that he is to have a girl this time. The notion making you smile, hes always wanted a daughter to spoil.

Your silence is broken when your son pulls Aegons pants down running off in a bout of laughter.

“OI YOU LITTLE-“

—

“She’s beautiful” your mother coos, her finger moving to softly stroke the babes cheek. “That she is” Alicent joins placing a kiss to your head as she congratulates you.

“Have you thought of a name?” She quizzes looking at her son and then you.

You smile, telling them that their was really only one name that came to mind when you found out you had a daughter. You smile at your mother as you say it, “Visenya.”

She lets out a soft gasp, leaning over to kiss your cheek her heart touched that you would name your daughter that. You embrace her softly before placing the babe into her arms letting her and Alicent fawn over her as you lean back into your husbands arms.

“She’s Perfect” he whispers kissing you sofly. “Plus… Aegon’s gonna be pissed” he chuckles.

ANNNNNND DONE! i doubt there will be a part three :)

#aemond one eye #house of the dragon aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond kinslayer #hotd aemond #aemond imagines #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen #aemond imagine #aemond fic #prince aemond #house of the dragon imagines #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd imagines

[i984]

Sweet Words Make a Lovely Shade | Part 1

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Ooc! Wednesday Addams, mentions of gore, Wednesday being uncharacteristically tame, reader likes to test boundaries, Wednesday gives bone-breaking hugs, no beta; we die like my brain cells.

|Summary|: You test your luck by putting Wednesday Addams in a compliment jail. 

|Word count|: 2.7k words

|A/n|: I ended up not changing a thing. I took some liberty with your request 💡anon, hope you still enjoy it! | Part 2 is available in my masterlist.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Love  

It does wonders for a person. 

And for you? Well, it makes you spew the utmost revolting, foolish, and absurd things out of your mouth—Wednesday's words, not yours. You think it's her way of saying she likes the compliments you practically shower her with. 

At first, you didn't even realize you were doing it. You could be sitting next to the raven-haired girl in class, having some lunch together, reading books in the library, or on your occasional walks around town, and you only have one single recurring thought that you can't seem to get out of your mind; 

Wednesday Addams—your precious sadistic little girlfriend—is so pretty.  

And not to be shallow or anything; after all, you like her for many different things. Her intelligence, wittiness, and her I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude. Her obsession with everything macabre, the monochromic-colored outfits that perfectly suit her, and the way she uses words you can't even begin to comprehend half the time. 

But then there's the way her hair has that lustrous glow, and then the rare grin she cracks when it's just the two of you, the constant little pout in her lips, and don't even start about her plump dark burgundy lips; Oh, you wanna kiss her-  

"-so bad," you mumbled out absent-mindedly, and Wednesday slowly looked up from her double cap—mouth gaping slightly at the suddenness of your words—her eyes blinking rapidly at you.  

"Oh- no no no I was just thinking and I got distracted because your lips look SO pretty!" Your voice was louder than you had intended for it to be, and you quickly covered your mouth—a pointless act as the slip-up had already been done. 

Wednesday only spared you a sharp glare before standing up from your shared sofa booth, already heading towards the Cafe entrance. Before you can even explain yourself, she had already bolted out, leaving you and her double cap behind. 

You know that Wednesday is not big on PDAs; soft kisses and gentle touches are reserved for private quarters. And even then, you can tell that her moves are calculated—afraid of doing too much that she'd find herself in a compromising position. 

But you didn't miss the darkening of her freckle-painted cheeks as she snuck a peek at your figure from outside Weathervane, and that's when you realized; 

Oh.  

Well, this is gonna be fun. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You walk to your dorm room with a dopey grin on your face, recounting the things that happened earlier.  

You've figured it all out. Wednesday might act like she isn't affected by other people's words and opinions about her—and in most cases, this is true—except when it comes from you.  

She caught you wearing a hoodie of hers? Now you have three more in your closet. You respond a beat late to some disputable thing she mentions? She immediately apologized for being insensitive and asked your take on the subject. You told her that she looked good in that checkered sweater? Now she wears the piece of garment all the time. Ask her to binge-watch all 10 seasons of My Little Pony with you? It would give her nightmares for weeks, yes, but absolutely.  

You quickly realize that you're one of the few people lucky enough to have Wednesday tolerate you to a certain degree. So you do the obvious—run after Wednesday after leaving some money on the table, and then shout at the top of your lungs, "I LIKE YOUR LIPS WEDNESDAY ADDAMS"  

You swear to God, you've never seen someone bolt out of your view so quickly. She didn't even spare a single disapproving glance at you—on normal occasions she would—but now, as people stop in their tracks to see who your words are pointed to, she's gone, nowhere to be seen.  

It's cute, how much she's affected by your words. And that's why, as you open your dorm room door, you walk straight to your thinking desk past a figure, planning to come up with new ways to fluster your girlfriend. 

Wait. Past a figure? 

You turn your head to see Wednesday Addams standing still, looking daggers at you, and you know things are about to go down.  

You smile coyly at her while taking a seat. The raven-haired girl's gaze trails your every movement. She looks almost predatory in this state. Like she's about to tear you apart to shreds. 

You hold your head high as you speak, "Is something wrong, Wens?" A pet name. You've heard Wednesday made it clear time and time again to Enid that she was against pet names. And you've never called her one before. But you're willing to gamble your life this time just to see how far she would tolerate you. 

So you maintain your perfect facade, and it was all worth it as you see Wednesday's eyes widen at the morbidity of your words—the good kind, you'd assume—and you saw her mouth open and close a couple of times, trying to say something deprecating and failing acutely.  

She stands awkwardly like that for a moment; her hands making little gestures as if she was trying to make a point while maintaining her look of utter disbelief at your behavior. 

You figured if you didn't egg on her a little more, she wouldn't let her guard down, so you decided to turn your back on her and pulled out a book to read. 

"What are you doing?" You can hear the stress in her words. You can picture her look right now; her jaw clenched, teeth gritted, brows furrowed in dismay. 

"I'm reading a book, as you can see with those pretty brown eyes of yours." You flipped a few pages, eyes tracing along the shape of letters and words, not really paying any mind to the actual content. 

"All right then," exasperation is evident in her voice, and you have to fight yourself from snickering at the situation. 

You've always been very careful around Wednesday, trying not to agitate her into giving you snarky comments—she still gives them nonetheless, and you find it amusing as time goes by—but curiously, she's not giving you any at the moment. And if you are to guess, it's probably because she physically can't bash you for your words. Not when she's fighting for her life with feelings she refuses to acknowledge most of the time. 

You hear her footsteps grow distant—she's heading for the door, you figured—and you don't even bother to look up as you say, "Come back soon, tesoro,"  

The sound of footsteps ceased. 

"Are you really going to keep doing this?" You can tell by Wednesday's voice that she is trying so hard not to burst at your display—you were never like this after all—from rage or the compliments, you don't know. But you figure you'll find out if you pick the right words. 

"Keep doing what, Wens?" You spin in your chair to her, your voice dripping with honey, with faux innocence. You can see her face turn colors into one of carnation, her lips thinning into a line as she tears her gaze apart from you. 

"You. Know. What." Wednesday strains every word, her tone is low as if to intimidate you, but you know the ball is in your court. 

"What? Telling you how pretty your lips are? In front of a lot of people? 

"Yes, exactly-" 

"And that I wanna kiss those lips of yours so badly? Dark plump lips like yours are my favorite, by the way," you look at her in the eyes as you speak, and you let your gaze trail down her face, and Wednesday fidgets with the hem of her top. 

"Oh wait, actually, you are my favorite." 

Wednesday glares at you—an act that usually works with Enid and everyone else when she wants to avoid certain conversations—but you are unfazed. You have her exactly where you want right now, and judging by the absence of a knife in her hand, you're going to assume that she's more than okay with what you're doing.  

"But wait. Oh. Is this about the fact that I know you blushed so hard when I complimented you? Every single time, did you notice that?" You stood up from your seat, throwing the book atop your desk.  

"I know you like it, Wens," you smirked, the nickname easily sliding out your tongue the more you said it, "I know you like me."  

"Oh, you are so full of yourself-" 

"You know what else I like? The way your pout grows bigger—as we're speaking right now, yes," and you see her face growing a scowl as you take a step closer towards her, "and now you're clenching your jaw slightly, god, you look so cute doing that."  

"I do not look cute, and if you cut my words off-" 

"Do you know that your micro facial expressions are probably the most adorable thing I ever get to witness?" 

"-again, I will cut your tongue and force-feed it to you."  

You ignore your girlfriend's words, continuing the torture you've devised for her. "No, not probably. Definitely the most adorable thing ever."  

A broad grin sprouted on your face, the one Wednesday always calls 'the idiotic grin' but you know she secretly likes it, and you can't be happier right now. You're experiencing a power trip; adrenaline rushing through you to continue your teasing despite the possibility of being mute in the future. 

"And that? Right there. Just now. The way you just announce dangerous threats? And sometimes about people's demise? Now, that is attractive."  

Wednesday decided that she's had enough of your antics. Her hand reaches for the doorknob, and you trail after her out of your dormitory. 

"Do not follow me," Wednesday hushed, and you walk beside her trying to catch up as she seems to speed up her pace.  

"I'm not following you, we just happen to be walking in the same direction- Oh, hi Bianca!" You see the girl waving back at you as you both walk through the quad; Wednesday did not acknowledge Bianca's presence as usual. 

"Oh yeah, that reminds me. Remember when you totally beat the shit out of Bianca in that oral test last week? That is also incredibly attractive."  

Wednesday seemed to pay no mind as you continued your horrible strings of compliments, except for the fact that she's practically running through the corridors right now, embarrassed of being caught blushing by any of her peers. 

You know that at this point, you're threading a thin line between her turning into putty at your words or her leading you to a grave site, ready to smash your head with a rock once you get there. 

Well, she's heading towards Ophelia Hall now, so it's safe to say you won't be visiting the realms of the dead today. 

"It would be wise for you to quit whatever skulduggery you're doing if you don't want me to slice your head off at fencing class-," 

You raise your hand in mock defeat at her words, and you can see Wednesday's knuckles turn white in a fist as she continued her words, "-which will start in a couple of hours. So, leave me-" 

"Oh yeah, that got me thinking of how good you look when fencing. I mean, there's a reason why I never ever spar with you during class."  

"Yes, and it is your remarkable ineptitude in the sport." 

You shoot her a look of false hurt at her words, "How dare you- Well. I mean yes, but also have you seen yourself?" You speak out of breath, your legs slowly catching up with Wednesday's pace.  

"Yes, of course. I've been staring at a mirror in the middle of my sparring," Wednesday rolls her eyes at you, "and that's why I've been on a losing-" at this, you can see Wednesday practically seethe in anger as she chokes the word out, "-streak against Bianca Barclay."  

"No, silly, it's because I would be in complete awe," you decided not to comment further on the sore issue, opting to clear out the tension with—yes you guessed it—more compliments.  

"I mean, the all-black outfit? Your menacing strikes and your calculated steps, not to mention your disheveled hair and the concentrated look on your face?" You clasp your hand in front of your chest, eyes looking up dreamily at the memory, while the girl beside you scoffed in irritation. 

You're now at Ophelia Hall, and Wednesday continues her brisk walk toward her shared dorm room. You don't have much time left if you want to break her composed demeanor. 

"And yes, if I sparred with you, the exact situation you mentioned earlier would've happened. My head sliced off the very first second into the spar." 

"And I'd assume you wouldn't want that. So don't make me do it." 

"Quite the contrary, I wouldn't mind. I bet dying by such skillful hands would be an amazing experience." 

You can see the door now. Wednesday knows this as well. If she gets inside and locks you out, maybe you'll shut up and spare her from the torture that makes her gut feel like it's ripping her apart from the inside. 

"What do you think of adding my head as a mount on your room's wall? I'm sure Thing would appreciate the addition of another dismembered body part in the room." 

If Wednesday wasn't agitated before, she definitely is now. As she opens the door to her dorm room and turns her body to you, you can see that not only are her cheeks of blossoming color, the tips of her nose and ears are as well! It's as if this is the first time blood has rushed to her face, and you'd argue that she looks dangerously magnificent like this; face sneering but eyes unable to maintain eye contact with you. 

She spared you only a short pointed glare, before closing the door to your face. You can hear her voice ring moments later, "Stop pestering me on my writing time or I will take you up on that offer. If you decide to omit my warning, make sure you say something adequate, as I will personally make sure it will be written on your gravestone as your last words."  

Her threats have never felt so empty, not with her obviously shaky voice—not when you know she's staring at her typing paper blankly right now, unable to type a single word as you can't hear any clacking sound of the machine's keys. 

The gears in your mind turn at an insane speed, and with the bravado only you possess, you belt your next words for the whole dormitory to hear,  

"I AM CRAZY FOR YOU, WEDNESDAY ADDAMS!" 

There was only silence. Then, you hear the rapid clickety-clack of your girlfriend's shoes, and you jump backward when Wednesday yanked the door open. 

This is it, you thought.  

You had been too cocky, thinking that you could get away with harassing the raven-haired girl—if compliments can be considered harassment, that is—and now you're going to pay the price. In the most gruesome way imaginable, if you know anything about your girlfriend. 

Wednesday storms at you, and before you can even try to escape, you feel her arms wrapped strongly around your figure in a death grip. She's about to tackle you to death, and you brace yourself for the upcoming impact- 

-that never comes? Her arms just stay there, her head buried against your chest, and you are at a loss for words. 

It's unfair, how easily she makes you feel flustered. You've been trying to get a reaction out of her all this time, and she barely cracks. But now as she hugs you, you practically melt into her embrace; your mischievous agenda is long forgotten. 

When you regain your senses, you take a breath— about to comment on the situation before she cuts you off with a; 

"Shut up. I hate you."  

You smirk at her words before sighing in contentment, eyes closing as you soak in the rare moment, "I love you too." 

"But I will never shut up about this- OW-" 

Wednesday left you rolling on the floor in pain after landing a punch in your guts. 

"Now, you will."

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday series #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams

[eywaite]

Insatiable 

Kinkmas Prompt: Day #6 ~ Thigh Fucking

Pairing: Ralak x human fem reader

Words: 6.7K

Summary: Ralak would do anything for his mate, but she's just so damn insatiable.

Warnings: NSFW, (slight) queue play, Ralak with a dick piercing, thigh fucking, size kink, size difference, human x Na'vi.

Notes: Big thanks to @neteyamsyawntu for hosting Kinkmas this year! And a big shoutout to @tiredmamaissy for providing us with so many amazing Ralak fics.

Credit: Credit to @zestys-stuff for the creation of Ralak and this beautiful artwork. Credit to @cafekitsune for the MDNI and Support banners. Credit to @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Na'vi Translation:

Tawtute: Spy People/Person

Tsurak: Skimwing/Oceanic creatures rode by the Reef Na'vi

Olo'eyktan: (Male) Clan Leader

Tsahìk: Matriarch, high priestess, interpreter

Oel ngati kameie: I See you

Ma: Vocative marker used to indicate whom the speaker is addressing. Can be used with a name.

Ngati kameie nìteng: I See you also

Tanhì: Star, bioluminescent freckle

Oeyä: My (possessive)

Marui: Pods built in the giant mangrove-like trees alongside the shores and are protected from crashing waves by giant reef barriers.

Yawntutsyìp: Darling; little loved one

Tswin: A Na'vi queue

Tewng: Loincloth

Nantang: Viperwolf

Frawzo: All is well, everything is fine, ok

Eywa, tìtxur oe ting: Eywa, give me strength

Awa'atlu is peaceful. Quiet.

So different from the constant noise of your home, animals singing to their young, weavers calling out to gatherers about things they need, hunters and their trainees doing drills right outside of the medical hut where Mo'at keeps her apprentices busy.

Your home had become even more chaotic when the Sky People had returned. Not a day went by that you weren't startled awake by the sounds of gunfire from target practice or the loud whirling of a Samson's engine.

It was never easy to adjust no matter how many times your father said you would. He was an ex-marine, a soldier conditioned for wartime, your mother a skilled hunter and warrior, trained from young to protect her home. Hell, even Neteyam has experience fighting, so has Lo'ak. They were made for this, not you.

You found it shamefully relieving when Jake announced we were leaving the clan, your heart torn in half leaving your home, but if it meant that the fighting would stop, then it was a heartache you were willing to carry.

The Reef was untainted from the scars of war that litter the beautiful forest you came from. And that shame curdled your stomach even further when war followed you and your family across the ocean, disturbing the peace the Reef People had fought so hard to keep.

It took you and your siblings a while to adjust to your new environment, especially you and Spider. And after Neteyam was nearly killed, Jake and Neytiri put all of their children on lockdown, fearing that the mercy the Great Mother had shown their eldest child would run out.

Jake asked for a security measure for when you and your siblings took your daily lessons, wanting some kind of protection for his children as well as The Reef kids. Tonowari agreed, asking a favorite of his right hand man, an esteemed and intimidating warrior named Ralak.

Your stomach dropped when Tonowari introduced Ralak to everyone. Ralak was a man of few words, tall, broad, and so fucking intimidating, and not afraid to voice his opinion of the tawtute attacking his home, to show his distaste for your kind. A fact that made you and Spider shuffle awkwardly closer together when his piercing blue eyes drifted over to you, scanning the both of you like he was sizing up his enemy in battle.

And his gaze never relented, he was always keeping a watchful eye on you and your brother, never letting you out of his sight. It unnerved you, made your skin crawl and stomach churn when you could feel the weight of his stare on your back at every lesson.

Ralak would always give Tsireya, Ao'nung, and Rotxo their space to teach you, sitting on his tsurak in the deeper parts of the water, a spear in hand as the other smooths over the rough scales on his mount, piercing eyes scanning the horizon.

He completely captivated you, entranced you in his quiet nature. It's shameful how quickly your face started heating up when he was near, how flustered you'd get watching him sit proudly on his tsurak, watching his long fingers calm the beast, broad shoulders blocking out the sun as his towering figure hunches down to look at what you're being taught.

You're embarrassed about your silly little crush, he hates humans, yet here you are holding back a nervous smile as he stares you down from across the water. His gaze has always targeted you, always settling to watch you as Tsireya teaches you proper forms, or when Ao'nung hones in your spearing techniques, or when Rotxo goes over certain words in sign language that you've misused.

You've always been a little bit of a wild child in your family, driving your parents and oldest brother crazy with Lo'ak. Maybe Jake fair warned Ralak of your mischievous ways and the result is being watched like a hawk by the esteemed warrior?

But if that's true, then why isn't he monitoring Lo'ak too? Or Spider? Sure he kept a close eye on them, but not like he watches you, his stare isn't so... heated when he watches them. His gaze almost scares you, your smaller body hiding from his intensite stare as you slot yourself into Neteyam's side, watching him weave a fishnet together from under his arm, taking quick glances at the tall Na'vi across the water.

You tried to be good. Sit there silently and listen to everything you're being taught, run the drills with as much precision as you can muster, practice the works you're told to every night. You're A+ student, a model child compared to your younger years. So why the hell won't Ralak leave you the fuck alone?!

It seems that the arrival of Norm and Max made everything worse. Tonowari and Ronal hesitantly agreed to allow a small outpost to be placed on the outskirts of the village, around the bend of where the hunters would dry their catch, in a more secluded, woodsy portion of the island.

They were only there to monitor Kiri and provide additional medical attention for Neteyam, but you and Spider were practically leaping for joy at the thought of having breathable air again. A soft mattress, pillows, and blankets with undisturbed time to read on your tablets. Having to beg your parents for days to allow you to stay in the outpost even though you're both adults, both Jake and Neytiri bothered by the idea that not all of their children will be under one roof.

But even in the peace of the outpost, Ralak still found a way to keep watch over you. Meeting you and Spider in front of the outpost with the others, instead of waiting in the water like usually, you nearly smacked face first into his stomach the first day he showed up, scaring you half to death as you come face to face with his six, tantalizing tattoos that slip past his V line into his loincloth.

It was a delicious, but awkward thing to see first thing in the morning.

The next day, when Tonowari and Ronal had come unannounced to the outpost, it was amusing to watch his tall frame hunching down to fit through the outpost door. His face set with a neutral expression, looking around at the equipment as he holds the breathing respirator to his mouth, keeping close to his Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk, never leaving there side as Norm gives the two leaders a tour of the facility taking space on their land.

Even while protecting his clan leaders, his attention wasn't full occupied enough not to occasionally spare you a glance, almost double checking you were still in your place. Was he afraid you'd attack him or Tonowari or Ronal?

Your fear quickly turned into annoyance. You can understand taking precautions, hell you can understand him hating humans, but his overly concerning, near obsession with making sure you don't misbehave is getting infuriating. Especially because you couldn't get within ten feet of the man before he's hightailing it in the opposite direction, never giving you the time of day. You don't think you've even had a proper conversation with him except giving him the customary greeting when you first met.

And to makes everything more embarrassing, you still have a crush on him! You still feel your stomach erupt into butterflies whenever his intense stare would soften as he watches Lo'ak and Tsireya talk amongst themselves, almost like the sight pleases him. You feel pathetic, like a lost puppy clinging on to whatever person that's shown it a bit of kindness, undoubtedly following them even if it means their grave.

It infuriates you how much you like someone that would never like you. And it made you beyond angry that he would treat you with such indifference, like you don't even exist simply because your ancestors are from the sky.

You have had it, marching down the beach as quickly as you could, recalling ever lesson Neytiri had given you on stealth so you don't alert the resting warrior of your fast approach.

Stopping in front of Ralak, your body casts a shadow over the necklace he was weaving. Immediately Ralak looks down at you, rising quickly and tucking his project away in the pouch around his hips.

You remember to be courteous and to go about things sweetly like Neteyam and Kiri has always encourage you to do. "Oel ngati kameie, ma Ralak. I was hoping we could talk?" you greet, bowing your head as you extend your hand towards him.

Ralak does the same, keeping his eyes trained on yours, "Ngati kameie nìteng. What can I help you with?"

"Well, I was hoping you could explain why you dislike me so much." you cut straight to the point, satisfied when your words seem to catch him off guard.

Ralak's brow bone scrunches together, beautiful blue eyes narrowing as he mouth opens to speak, "I–"

"I understand that I'm being forward, and I truly understand why you hate my kind, I really do. But... I haven't done anything!"

Ralak's face collapses into pure confusion, "No, ma Y/N–"

You bulldoze right over him, not planning on letting him bullshit you into believing anything but the truth. "I promise I'm no harm to your home. I know I'm not a good fighter or a good fisherman, but I'm excellent at gathering and weaver, and I believe my skills are useful to your clan. Our clan, yes?"

"Yes, but–"

"So why do you still hate me? Have I offended you in some way?"

It's clear now that Ralak is at his wits end with your ranting and questioning, his face resting in his usual neutral expression. "No. Please let me–"

"Then what is it? What have I done? Because I truly am so–"

"Tanhì!" The subtle raise in his voice is enough to shut you up immediately, the nickname catching you off guard, causing you to gape up at him with wide eyes.

Ralak taked a deep breath, centering himself before continuing. "I am not mad at you, nor do I hate you. I in fact respect you and your brother greatly for adapting so well to our way of life, and for respecting my people."

You feel lost, like you've been dropped in the middle of nowhere with the expectation of finding a way out of the new, unfamiliar terrain. This was not what you expected. "But–"

It was Ralak's turn to interrupt you, much more politely than you did. "Please, I am not finished. As for disliking or even hating you, that is far from the truth."

Your fire from before has been completely extinguished, left with nothing but confusion. You're hesitant to know his answer, but you ask anyways, "W-What is the truth then?"

Ralak looks up for a moment, admiring the impending eclispe, full lips perched in thought before looking down at you again. "The truth is I like you very much, Tanhì. I was planning on asking your father if I could court you, I already have permission from Tonowari."

"You what?!" you exclaim, all rational thought thrown straight out the window as you question Ralak's words.

Ralak reaches into the pouch on his hip, pulling out the necklace he was working on earlier. Seeing it now you realize it's much too small for him or any other Na'vi on the island. His large hand tenderly grasps your upper arm, running his finger down your forearm until they reach your delicate wrist, his long fingers dwarfing your hand as he cups it in his own, placing the necklace in your palm before retracting his touch entirely.

You almost reach out for his hand, craving the warmth of his large palm touching your skin again, but refrain, turning your attention to the jewelry in your hand.

It's beautiful, so delicate as the thin cords of seaweed have been twisted into thin strands, the green of the cords contrasting against the sky blue crystals decorating it, glimmering in the setting light. The crystals remind you of the sea, constantly showing you a different shade of itself from any slight movement. The blue hue of the gem look like Ralak's eyes, fierce in it's presence but so delicate in nature. Your stomach turns in excitement at the idea he picked the crystals for his courting gift from his eye color, a very subtle but present claim over you. If you excepted of course.

You continue to stare at the gorgeous craftsmanship in your palms, moving your hands in every direction just to see the burst of colors from the gems. A part of you wanted to put it on, to feel the weight of the crystals on your chest, show off the detail Ralak put into the necklace.

"Do you like it?"

Your head snaps up at the sound of Ralak's low, deep voice. He looks almost... nervous? His ears laying low against his head, tail keeping a slow twitching rhythm by his ankles, widen eyes darting between the necklace and your face, gauging your reaction.

"Eywa, I'm a fucking idiot!" you think to yourself. This was a courting gift, of course he's nervous, your reaction to his gift determines whether you'd actually court him.

You give the widest, most genuine smile you've ever had in your life, "I absolutely adore it, it's stunning."

Your words are like a physical relief to Ralak, his slumped shoulders setting back into their place, back straightening from how he was unconsciously bending down. His neutral expression cracks a little, a small smile of satisfaction gracing his pretty lips, "That is very good, I am happy to see you smile."

His large palm reaches out again, long fingers hooking around your jaw, cradling your face so tenderly, with all the delicately someone as strong as him could manage. The size difference between the two of you is massive, his hand is bigger than the entirety of your head, yet his touch is so gentle as he holds you a little closer to his towering body, guiding your gaze to his. "Now I must ask your parents for their permission."

You couldn't control your amused snort, "Good luck."

Ralak's smile widens, a hardy chuckle rumbling through his chest. The sound is delightful, so refreshing after all the hard glaring the past few months, so welcoming to hear sounds of laughter from someone so intimidating.

Slowly Ralak bends at the waist, using his hand on your jaw to keep you still as he leans forward, lips brushing against your hairline right above where your mask sit, leaving a lingering kiss there. His lips are warm, so warm that you can still feel the imprint of them on your skin even after he pulls away, standing back up straight.

"Have a good night, Oeyä Tanhì."

The next day, when you arrive at your family marui you nearly smack into Ralak again as he's exiting the home, his hands enveloping your shoulders to stop you from toppling over. "Easy, there is no rush, little one." he tells you, releasing you from his tight hold.

From behind Ralak you can see Tonowari stepping out of your family home as well, giving you a beaming smile and Ralak a slap on the back before walking away. Peeking around Ralak's hip, you look inside the marui to see your family all sat around the fireplace.

Your father's eyes lock onto yours, his tightly locked jaw loosening as he stares at your pleading eyes. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before giving you a single nod. Neytiri smiles from beside him, giving her own encouraging nod.

Looking back up at Ralak, you offer him the necklace he gave you the night before. His brow bone scrunches in confusion, fingers hesitate as he takes the jewelry. You turn around, lifting your hair off your neck, silently asking him to help you put it on. You can feel the relief pouring off Ralak in waves as the necklace dangles in front of your eyes for a moment before settling on your chest, the hardy weight of the crystals are surprisingly pleasant.

You grab Ralak's hand before he can completely retract it again; it takes him a moment to wrap his fingers around your hand, not used to someone wanting to hold him, to want his touch for longer than a lingering moment. "I accept. I'd loved to be your mate, ma Ralak."

Your fingers push against your marui wall, softly swinging your hammock side to side, blankets pulled up to your chin as you stare at the ceiling. You really don't want to get out of bed, it was too warm and cozy, so comfortable. It would be even more comfortable if your mate was here with you, but you know that'll never happen.

Ralak was a morning person, constantly up before the sun rises, doing chores and tending to his tsuraks, you sometimes believe he likes the animals he tends for more than people. And you know he likes drinking his fermented fruit concoction alone, only ever letting you gave a sip or two, claiming it was too strong for your small tawtute body.

The loud, sharp ring of Ralak's knife grating against the whetstone he's using brings you out of your sleepy daze, the ringing stopping every few minutes to check the sharpness of the blade before continuing to slide it against the stone.

Giving in, you finally crawl out of the hammock, rearranging the pillows and blankets you had brought from the outpost, making the bed and getting dressed for the day. The fish Ralak had caught last night is being kept warm over the still smoking coals, a bowl of precut fruit and a full drinking bowl of water right next to the coals.

You smile at the simple effort it took for him to do this, yet it made you feel such joy to know how well your mate takes care of you.

Walking to the trunk in the far corner of the room, you rummage through the various things you brought from the outpost, grabbing the item you were looking for quickly.

What you had grabbed was something truly new to all humans on Pandora; it was a respirator device that contained a liquidity mist like serum that allowed (for a temporary amount of time) you to breathe the air on Pandora. Two years back, Norm and Max had found a plant near the lowlands that expels on oily residue, that when extracted from the plant and combined with other materials, allows humans to breathe the overly carbonated air. It only lasts a few hours, but it's better than nothing.

The device wasn't complicated. It was a simple respirator mask attached to a slender, black cylinder. Made so when you inserted the small vial of serum, it would turn the liquid substance into a mist you inhaled. Checking to make sure the vial of bright yellow serum was fully inserted and punctured by the hypodermic needle inside the cylinder, you seal the bottom. Waiting for the small vibration and blue light to illuminate from ring on top before you proceed.

You take a long, deep breath in, lifting up your mask and exhaling. Expelling all of the air from your lungs, putting the respiratory securely over your nose and mouth you press the small button on the side of the cylinder, deeply breathing in the yellow vapors flowing from the mask. A dry, coolness spreads over your chest, seeping in and coating your lungs with the serum. You hold your breath for as long as you can, allowing the serum to soak in. It's recommended to hold it for thirty seconds or more, but nobody listened. Only holding it as long as they could hold their breath.

Pulling the mask away you slowly let out the air you were holding, a small amount of yellow vapor coming out with the air. You put the device, serum vial, and breathing mask securely back in the trunk.

You gather your breakfast, walking out of your home, spotting Ralak immediately. His back is facing you, many of his spears and knives are scattered around him, his eyes trained on the water as he slowly sharpens a spearhead.

His ears perk up when he hears your footsteps, tail picking up it's pace as it sways faster than before. You plop on the ground next to him, popping a piece of fruit into your mouth as you set your food out in front of you, leaning your body against his side.

"Good morning!" you chirp, kissing his upper ribs, his skin eruption in goosebumps at the soft touch.

Ralak turns to you, sharp canines on displace as he gives you a stunning smile, "Good afternoon, Yawntutsyìp." he greets back, giving you a subtle tease for waking up so late as he bends down just enough to plant a kiss ontop of your head.

Pulling away he stops, doing a double take so he can examine your maskless face. Dropping his things in his lap, Ralak put one arm behind your back, supporting his weight as he cages you in between his chest and arm, his other hand reaches for your face, pulling you away from your food and tilts your head just enough so he can slot his lips against yours.

The kiss is tender, slow as always. Ralak treats you like precious glass, always so careful in everything he does with you and that includes kissing. Your fingers tangle in his long hair, tugging on the curly strands, pulling him closer as your teeth nibble on his lower lip earning a grunt from your mate.

You feel Ralak smile into the kiss, pulling away with a soft chuckle as he pops a piece of fruit he stole from your plate into his mouth, going back to his previous project.

You elbow his side for stealing your food, "You just have to ask." you complain, offering up another piece for him.

You go back to your food, hand still raised with the fruit for Ralak as you continue eating. A tingle runs up your spine when your feel a hot, wet sensation on your fingertips, looking up just as Ralak has pulled the fruit from your grip with his teeth, licking your fingers clean of it's juices before pulling away again.

Your core throbs from the simple act of intimacy, a very familiar ache growing in between your legs as you stare at the side of your mate's head. You hated when he did things like this, effortlessly making you drip in want without ever fully satisfying your need for him.

Ralak absolutely refuses to mate with you properly, to fuck you until you're dumb like you so desperately want. Yes he'll pleasure you, use his mouth, fingers, or any other body part of his you wanted to grind yourself against, but never lets it go all the way, never lets you completely have him out of fear of hurting you. No matter how long or hard you beg for him to at least try, he'd never give in. In any other circumstance you'd applaud his resilience, but right now you just want to throttle him.

It's been three months since you had become a couple and his persistence is still going strong; and you're about ready to induce his rut early. You would try to talk about it, but Ralak would always soothe you like he would an irritated tsurak, calming you enough to distract you from the original subject. It's pitiful how quickly this man could make you fold within yourself at the slightest touch, sedating your hormone induced frustration with a few lowly spoken words.

Finishing your breakfast, you stack the bowls, putting them off to the side and stand. Ralak's ears twitch at your movement, but doesn't look up from his work otherwise. Your hands find there place against his bicep, slowly running up to his shoulder blades, greedily exploring his back muscles. It was comical how much bigger he was, even sitting you couldn't look over his shoulder, he is a mountain of muscle and strength, so tempting to climb.

Taking your thought to heart, your hand wraps around his queue momentarily, his body going ridged as you move the neural cord to the side, moving his long hair in the process. You can see his brow bone rise as his side profile frowns, confused by what you're doing.

Reaching up to get a firm hold on his shoulders, you pull your body up, Ralak doesn't budgeting a single inch as your foot finds placement on his hip, aiding in your climb. Digging your knees into his upper ribs, your arms encircle his neck, your chin resting on his upper collar, peering down at the new spearhead he's sharpening.

He huffs a laugh, slouching his shoulders so you can see over them better, his large palm pats your thigh, gently bringing it higher up his waist to ensure you're comfortable. You catch him peering at you from his peripheral vision, his tail tapping happily behind him. "Have a good view, little one?"

You nod, nuzzling your nose against his cheek, mimicking the numerous times he's scented you like this. Planting a soft kiss on his cheek, his sharpening faults for a moment before continuing slower this time, tilting his head to allow you better access to nuzzle him again.

You stay like this for a while, snuggled against Ralak as he polishes his knives and spears, twirling long strands of his curly hair between your fingers to entertain yourself. Your hand eventually wanders, nails scratching against his scalps, lips finding the sensitive spot right below his ear which makes Ralak let out a soft grunt, teetering on the verge of a groaning.

A deep rumble has begun in his chest at the affectionate touches, Ralak rarely purrs but when he does it's completely uncontrollable, loud and gruff, so soothing it puts you right to sleep.

Your scratching moves up to the crown of his head, fingertips massaging just under his queue before you gingerly grab the braided neutral cord, rubbing right at the base of where it connects to his head. Ralak groans from under you, eyes fluttering close as his head tilts back, chasing the feeling of euphoric pleasure that pulses from his tswin.

His polishing is long forgotten, hands going limp and dropping his tools to the ground, bottom lip finding refuge between his sharp teeth to keep his deep groans at bay. It was incredible how power drunk one could get from doing this, watching someone so big and strong turn to jello from a well placed touch, usual hard exterior cracking and enjoying the pleasure your soft touch brings.

Looking down the length of his body, you can see the hard outline of his throbbing cock, practically tearing the seams of his tewng from how hard he's gotten, twitching with the beat of his rapidly beating heart. Through the fabric you can just make out the piercing that adorns his cock, the little, polished wood jewelry at the head of his cock becoming more pronounced at his precum wets the tewng, growing darker the longer you play with his queue.

Ralak's eyes fly open, his hand engulfing yours, stopping your gentle massage. "Tanhì," his voice is raspy, deep like a growl as he says your name through his teeth.

"Yes, my love? Are you not enjoying yourself?" you ask, barely fighting back the mischievous smile crawling it's way on your lips.

Instead of answering, Ralak reaches behind him, grabbing a handful of both your shorts and top, pulling you over his shoulder until you fall forward on his lap, landing yourself right on his cock. Ralak hisses as the weight of your body settles ontop of his throbbing erection, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist, ensuring you don't move against him.

"You know better." he reprimands, hot breath tickling your skin as he pants into your ear.

You hum in acknowledgement to his words, turning your head to kiss his jaw, "Please, just try."

"No." his answer was quick, no room for negotiations.

"Just the tip!" you try to reason, anything to relieve the aching void in your core.

"Tanhì!" You're surprised to see a glimpse of amusement in his eyes, masking it with his signature neutral expression. "I do not want to hurt you, and I will not risk your well-being just for pleasure."

"Risk it just a little bit." you tell him, trying to move in his iron grip to touch him, but his hold keeps you tightly in your place.

Your small movement had caused your ass to rub against Ralak's cock, causing another low hiss from Ralak. He burying his face into the side of your neck, wide, flat nose pressed against your pulse point, drinking in your scent to calm himself.

"You are insatiable." he grumbles, shifting your body off his crotch and onto his thigh, sighing in relief.

You pout, moving your hands to rest against his chest, "Lak, this isn't fair, to either of us. Won't you just try? I'll take anything."

For a rare moment you see a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, brow bone raised in question. "Anything, Yawntutsyìp?"

You immediately nod, making yourself dizzy from how quickly you had responded. Wordlessly, Ralak scoops you up into his arms, holding you with one arm securing you against his chest as the other gathers the different tools and weapons from the ground. You've never felt as small as you do now, feeling like a nantang pup being carried by it's mother, so small and pliable in Ralak's skilled hands.

After gathering his belongings, Ralak enters your shared home, dropping you on your hammock before walking to the other side of the marui to put away his things. You giddily turn in the hammock to stare at Ralak, peeking up at him through the small holes that are weaves through the fabric.

Ralak is tense, shoulders rigid as he crouches in front of his corner of neatly stacked weapons and fishing nets. His tail is low and still, ears laided back against his skull, movements slow, like he's dragging out the simple task to prolong the time he has.

You know him, better than anyone, and you know he's nervous, something you've come to learn Ralak isn't used to. He's always been levelheaded, calm, and rational, never fearing of whether doing his daily chores would have a great affect on anything. It was simple: get a task, do it, move on to something else.

He's never had to worry about breaking a tsurak he was working with, and if he broke a spear or fish net, he'd simply make a new one with ease. But he can't fix you if you break, he can't make a new you if something were to happen. And the mere thought of being responsible for possibly hurting you shatters Ralak's tender heart completely.

He can't lose you; not if he can help it.

"Have I ever told you how absolutely gorgeous you are?" you ask him, hoping to lighten the heavy thoughts plaguing your love's mind.

Your words make his shoulders relax just a little, a smile gracing is pretty face, tail swaying just a little. "Yes, everyday. Even when I tell you to stop."

"And you know how much I trust you?"

His tail stops, sighing, "Yes."

"And you trust me?"

Ralak turns from his crouched position, looking over his shoulder at you, "Always."

"Then trust that I know what I want; and what I want is you." you shift from your laying position, sitting up in the hammock, stretching your hands out, palms up. "You won't hurt me."

Ralak just stares at you, blue eyes scanning every inch of your face, searching for any hesitance, but is only met with your pleading, encouraging eyes, every part of you agreeing as you wait for him, hands outstretched for his touch.

Stand slowly, Ralak walks to you, large hands reaching out to hold yours, long fingers playing with yours, running over the delicate skin of your wrists. His hands keep traveling up your arms, his eyes never leaving yours until his palms cup your face, his gaze falling to yours lips. His thumb brushes across your bottom lips, lust filled eyes following the movement with a predators precision.

"Promise to behave?" he asks, tilting your chin just a little higher to keep your attention, making sure you hear his words.

"I promise. Please, touch me, Lak."

Your words ignite a fire in Ralak, the heat in his lower stomach boiling over as his hands find there place on your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he crawls into the hammock with you, hovering above you. His lips find yours, hunger pouring from him at every pull of his lips against yours, sharp canine digging into your bottom lip, giving it a small tug.

You moan into his mouth, tangling your fingers into his hair, tugging him closer as your small tongue wraps around his, whimpering as the rough texture of his tongue licks into your mouth, leaving a pleasuring tickle that makes you want more.

Your top is soon gone, the buttons of your shorts popped off in Ralak's hurry to get them off. His hands ghosts over your breasts, long fingers wrapping around the soft mounds, kneading at your tender breasts as his thumbs rolls over your nipples. Your hands wander, skimming down his toned chest to his abs, resting on the band of his tewng, cupping his throbbing cock.

Ralak growls against your lips, hips thrusting into your hand. Gently he takes a hold of you hand, pulling it away from his crotch, directing them back to his waist. Grabbing your hips, Ralak drags you forward, laying you down complete, spreading your legs wide enough to settle himself in between them.

A tearing sound pulls you from your lust-drunk state, wide eyes looking at Ralak right as he throws your torn panties across the room. "Shh, frawzo, Oeyä Tanhì." he coos down at you, skilled fingers pulling at the cords of his loincloth, discarding the fabric somewhere with your ruined underwear.

He strokes at his weeping cock, collecting the precum gathering at his tip and spreading it down his shaft, softly sighing in relief as he tugs against his aching cock. The wood polished jewelry decorating his pretty tip is shiney from the precum, a small droplet forming ontop of it.

You sit up, small hand barely able to wrap around the shaft as you slowly stroke his cock, tongue sticking out to catch the droplet before it falls, your lips wrapping around the very tip, playing with the piercing as you tongue drags against his very sensitive slit.

A snarl is practically ripped from Ralak's chest, lips peeling back over his teeth as his head falls forward, hazy, lust filled eyes stare down at you, his hips doing small, aborted rocking motions, trying desperately not to lose control.

Ralak grabs the back of your head, pulling you off his cock, his hand moving to spread out against your chest, pushing you to lay down again. "I thought I told you to behave."

You bite your bottom lip, fighting a smirk you know will send him over the edge. "You never said I couldn't touch you."

"Tanhì," Your smirk disappears. Strike one. And already Ralak looks like he's about to lose it, crystalline eyes darkening to a dark ocean blue, beautiful hair messy from all your tugging, hot breath fanning across your face as he pants above you. He's gorgeous, so ethereal in this moment.

"You're so pretty." you tell him, small hand working over his stern expression, making him melt into you within seconds.

"Eywa, tìtxur oe ting." Ralak mumbles to himself before his head dips down, warm lips finding your mating bite, his deep purr vibrating against your chest as he scent you, rough tongue lapping at your pulse point.

You whine when he pulls away, kneeling at his full height again. Grabbing your legs once again, Ralak settles them against his chest, big hands squeezing your thighs together. Slowly, his slick cock slides in between your squished thighs, your eyes crossing when you feel his thick cockhead part your drenched folds, his piercing nudging against your neglected clit.

"H-Holy fuck..." you moan, head falling back against the pillows, hips jutting up to press his tip against your clit harder.

Ralak gives you a feral smile, all teeth as he gazes down at you, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward again, grip tightening around your legs as the underside of his cock drags through your drenched folds, the warm pudge of your thighs covered in your slick, making the slide easier.

You can feel the hesitation in Ralak's movements, soft rocking of his hips stuttering whenever your thighs clench around him, choked moans falling from his perfect lips as his brow bone scrunchs together, concentrating on the feeling of your small, pliable body under him.

"Ralak," you hiccup, your hand finding refuge on his forearm, fingernails digging into his skin leaving marks behind. "M-More please... I want more."

You clench your thighs, pushing your hips to match his thrusts, causing his piercing to catch against your clit again, stimulating the bundle of nerves deliciously. Ralak groans as his piercing grinds against your folds, quickening his movements to chase the low heat traveling from his lower stomach.

The hammock is swaying from Ralak's powerful thrusts, your moans coating the sex tainted air as your body goes limp. You desperately grasp at whatever part of Ralak you can get as your stomach begins to tighten, tantalizing heat spreading through your body, legs trembling from the pleasure of it all.

Every deep, raspy moan that Ralak let's slip out is like hot lightening running down your spine, entranced by ever sound he makes. His baby hairs sticking to his sweat slicked forehead, bioluminescent freckles glimmering brighter than ever as he towers over you, moving his hand to settle next to you head so he can grind his cockhead against your clit.

You can feel his knot swelling, knocking against the back of your thighs repeatedly. Ralak groans against your skin as he grinds the swell of his knot against your slick thighs, reveling in the pleasuring friction it gives him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy, hunger filled kiss, letting out little whimpers and moans into his mouth. Your clit is throbbing, lower stomach tightening so hard it makes you sob, "Lak, please, I need–"

Ralak coos at you when you're unable to complete your thought, laying sweet kisses across your face. "Cum for me, Tanhì."

You cry out, quivering hole clenching around nothing as you cum, tightly clutching onto Ralak as you shake apart in his hold, hiding yourself under him as he starts groaning. His thrust are beginning to grow sloppy, his grip so tight you're sure it'll leave bruises for everyone to see tomorrow.

Reaching down, your thumb teases his cockhead everytime it reappears from in between your thighs, rubbing against his piercing at every thrust. Ralak loses it at that, thrusting one last time before cumming all over your stomach and chest, a single whimper leaving him as your thumb continues to play with his overly sensitive slit, not letting your legs go until his cock stops throbbing.

Ralak slowly lowers your legs, wrapping his strong arms around your spent form and cradling you to him, holding you close as his head rests on your chest, his chin gently rubbing against your breasts, scenting you further than he already has.

"See? That wasn't so bad." you tease, barely able to keep your eyes open as your fingers lazily comb through his tangled curls. "Does this mean you're willing to try now?"

Ralak doesn't bother answering you, burying his head in between your breasts as he grumbles. "You are insatiable."

"Only for you, baby."

©️Eywaite2023 | All rights reserved. Do not republish, steal, repost, modify, translate or claim any of my work as your own.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼: @tallulah477 @eyweveng @neteyamsoare @blue-slxt @sulieykte @puddle-nerd @taintedlovesworld @fadedpetal

#avatar12daysofkinkmas #ralak #ralak x reader #ralak x reader smut #ralak smut #ralak x human reader #ralak x human reader smut #ralak x you #avatar smut #atwow smut #na'vi smut #na'vi x human #na'vi x human smut #𝓣𝓲𝓻𝓮𝔂𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼

[ch6douin]

> Dᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ. — IDV! SELF AWARE AU (5)

THIS IS PART FIVE OF MY IDV!SELF AWARE AU! I love this au but i cannot bring myself to do anything other than brainrot every single day. i would love to hear brainrots, feedbacks or anything related to this au in my askbox, so feel free to mark your presence there.

cw: obsessive behavior; mentions of feeling/being watched; romantic someway; religious behavior; idk what else

Fiona loved the mystic. That's something not so surprising as she was given the title of a Priestess. She swore upon the Lakeside Village to adore the one and only Yog Sothoth, to be worthy of his blessings.

But she's incapable of escaping from this manor and honoring his name properly, incapable of escaping from you.

She knows you, to a certain extent because of the gossip and whispers around the survivors but you know her all too well, every single flaw and trait. Her devotion to Yog Sothoth didn't budge at that time, since at the end of the day, Fiona did not acknowledge you.

Skepticism could be her middle name, scripted to be deep into her heart, protecting it from any dangers. But you sneaked in, clueless of your effect on her. And so suddenly, her offerings to Yog Sothoth lacked sincerity.

She doesn't want to...be like this, be indecisive, she always criticized one for such weakness. But every time she thinks about choosing between you and the eldritch god, she is sent into a spiral of sentiments and beliefs, and anxiety settles deep within her bones. You're taking up too much space inside her, and she can't do anything besides hope that you give her enough room for breathing.

Yog Sothoth's presence is cold as ice and almost frightening, it is something Fiona thought that she was used to it. But she got way too comfortable with the feeling of your unique presence, safe as the embrace of a lover. It makes her dizzy, her heart is filled with tenderness but her brain tugs on it like a warning. Sometimes, it makes her sick in the stomach to sense that she failed to do something simple as to follow one god.

Little by little, her makeshift shrine with tons of trinkets for the ancient god is emptied. The overwhelming amount of items almost spilling out from the shrine are nowhere to be seen. Her loud murmurs from her requests to "Hastur" that every survivor could hear when passing by her door (which for a curious motive, is filled with thick locks and chains) are nothing now but a faint whisper of your name, so silent and soothing as if she is afraid to startle you or make you annoyed by her wishes. But did you hear her prayers? You must have, she likes to believe you do. That's the only explanation for her wardrobe full of luxurious clothes and accessories, silky materials that she would never even dream about touching.

She dreams of you, every night. It must be because she thinks about you almost all the time, but she fools herself into thinking it's you infesting her dreams despite the mindset being incredibly irrational. And every time you appear, her brain creates an individual that could only be described as breathtaking, because any idea that Fiona had about your appearance however you looked like was nothing short of ethereal, divine. She would kneel and worship you regardless of people's opinions.

The others be damned. They never gave her such a strong feeling.

And may you also give her enough patience to not wrap her fingers around that Mercenary's throat—when he stands with a look of nonchalance and crossed arms as if he didn't fuck up everything. She couldn't care less about the hint of regret in his sharp eyes, and she started blinking fast as if to dissipate the sudden urge to pounce on him. But you wouldn't want that, would you? After all, you graced him with your presence more times than one could count with their hands, even if his mouth was always kept shut, she knows because there was nothing that could justify his fidgety behavior when the subject was you.

"Any explanations for your foul behavior, Mr.Subedar?" Just like him, her arms are folded tightly on her chest as she spits out her words, cutting through the palpable tension in the room. And by the way he looks at her through the corner of his eye, she really has the impression of not even deserving his attention.

"It's simple, I don't trust them." Indeed, a simple and short answer followed by his thick accent doesn't satisfy Fiona that much. But that's just Naib Subedar, the mercenary is always stubborn and will feed you nothing but crumbles of information until you go crazy for good.

"Oh for god's sake. You don't trust anyone, Subedar." She sighs heavily, rubbing her forehead in annoyance. "The day you do, pigs might fly!" The woman walks around the dimly lit room with impatience, and he remains still as a statue. Aside from a twitch of his brows and a brief glare, there is no reaction to her words.

"Who I trust or not is none of your business, Gilman. Just like you being an obsessive freak with this person, if we can even call them that, has nothing to do with me." He is good at pretending to not be fazed as if he didn't experience goosebumps all over his body five minutes ago when he could finally hear your voice clearer than ever. And when the thought of how you looked from the other side of the screen went through his head for a fleeting second, he swears his heart rate did not increase. Why do you have this effect on him? On everyone? You were able to swoon the hearts of even the most reserved men and women in this manor, you even made him feel somehow special initially.

Emma plants flowers that you might like, Frederick and Antonio create tunes and songs inspired by you, Demi has confessed her admiration for you countless times in her drunken state—Hell, Naib is sure that he had a glimpse of Edgar Valden himself stressing over a painting and mumbling how he 'just had to see you in person, his lost muse'.

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud groan. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that for the sake of our partnership." He had hit a nerve, didn't he? It's written all across her face, eyebrows furrowed, lips in a firm line, eyelids twitching...It almost brings a smile to his lips how worked up she got. His eyes trail down to her hands for no particular reason, they are gripping her robe tightly in between her fingers.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night.." His mouth has a small pout of indifference as he shrugs, heavy boots accompany him when he walks away to finally leave and have some rest. There is nothing that he wants more than to forget about all of this for at least a few hours, that is if he doesn't end up having you appear in his dreams and waking up with wide eyes filled with evident embarrassment. Maybe he wasn't so different from the other survivors and hunters...

Twisting the doorknob and looking up through his eyelashes, much to his dismay, a person that he knows all too well stands proud. With his black and white clothes, it's Luca Balsa in the flesh. Even with the shaky postman wiping away his tear-smudged cheeks behind the prisoner's back like a shadow, his toothy grin never faltered. He must be sure of himself if he still remains unperturbed by the problems ahead. Naib steps away to give them enough space to enter the room and then vanishes without a word, not before noticing how the postman's irises followed him till he was no longer within eye's reach. If Naib was able to gain the hate of someone so calm, he indeed might be a jerk.

It doesn't take long for Luca to speak up. "Long short story, an unexpected error happened, and now no one knows how to turn it on without my help?" He's casual with it, maybe overconfident in his abilities as an inventor but some optimism was very much needed right now. After all, he should not disappoint in their pursuit to contact you!

There's a short silence, followed by the loud crack of his knuckles as he takes a long stride towards the machine. "Alright, this might take some time. I recommend for you two to take a break and have a little debate with the others in the main hall. Everyone is starving for good news."

OBS: When Fiona mentions "luxury clothes" she's referring to the A/S tier costumes from the game.

naib wants u so bad bro 🤨 a lot of characters may appear next chapter but of course half of it may be a little more luca centered, and maybe if i make it long enough we will come back to reader's pov😆

#identity v x reader #idv x reader #self aware au #idvselfaware #idv mercenary #idv priestess #idv postman #idv prisoner #identity v naib #victor grantz x reader #luca balsa

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4042

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

5. Jiggly Soufflé Cake

Steve

“I should be in there,” Bucky says again, making Steve roll his eyes.

They’re sitting next to each other, out in the waiting room at the Center. It’s been over an hour, but Steve remembers how the intake worker had told them that Mary’s evaluation wouldn’t be short. Already, he’s read through half the crappy magazine selection. He lets the edge of an outdated issue of Dominant Monthly flop down to his lap. “Babe …”

“It’s taking too long. What if they’re harassing her or—”

“You know that’s not true. The people here are good. You’re just trying to control everything,” he reminds Bucky.

“If I was in there I could—”

“Get in the way. She needs to feel like she can express herself.”

“What if she’s not honest? What if Linda’s not asking her the right—”

“Buck, stop,” Steve says, injecting some command into his voice. Bucky might be the Dom, but Steve can put his foot down with his husband when needed. “The therapist knows what she’s doing. All the people here do. This is what they do.”

They’re at the Center for Designated Peoples, the place where people like Bucky go for … well, anything related to their dominance or submission needs. That’s all Steve really knows. He knows that Bucky has been in and out of CDPs since he was a kid. “It took almost a week to get her this appointment, alright? You want to mess that up?”

Bucky grumbles. “No.”

“Good. Cause they don’t need you in there, interfering in her assessment. So sit tight.”

Bucky shuts up after that, satisfying Steve that he’s made his point.

“Well, what do you think?” Bucky eventually says, when another ten minutes have passed and the door to the therapist’s office is still closed. “Of her?”

Steve glances over. “You mean in general?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

Steve can tell when Bucky’s being defensive. “You like her,” he says. “And not just cause of her lemon tarts.” He’d seen him looking at weighted blankets on Amazon, yesterday. “Admit it,” he prods, nudging Bucky’s shoe with his. “You can tell me how you feel. Why d’you need me to qualify it for you, first?

“Because I’m married to you, not her,” Bucky snaps. “Jesus, Rogers. Never met a man with less self-preservation instincts than you.”

“Mmhm. Aand?”

“... Okay I’m drawn to her,” Bucky says. “But I can’t tell how much of that is instinct and how much is normal people stuff.”

“‘Normal people stuff’,” Steve echoes, amused.

“I want to know what you think of her.” Bucky kicks his shoe back. “Tell me.”

“I like her too,” Steve concedes. “It’s not just you.” He can see as Bucky’s shoulders relaxing a little bit, knows that his opinion matters to his husband. “She’s different. Plain, but …” Steve searches for the right word. ‘Cute’ doesn’t seem right. She’s too prickly for that and too old besides. She’s a woman, not a girl, and he’s not just trying to describe her physical appearance. “I don’t know,” he says. “Editorial?”

“Editorial?” Bucky scowls. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I dunno, just, not off the rack. Different.” Bucky snatches the magazine out of his lap and chucks it back to the coffee table. Steve rolls his eyes. “Wish she wasn’t so defensive, though. And I wish we could’ve met her … you know, like on a date or at the gym or something.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah.”

“She grows on you,” Steve decides. Like an angry, stray cat. That’s dirty and scraggy a little.

“She’s pretty,” Bucky offers, but the words fall flat. They can both see that she’s attractive, that isn’t news. Bucky and Steve are attractive people themselves. They aren’t hurting for opportunities to be with attractive women (or men), if they want to. And it’s been a while since they invited another person into their bed. But …

“I haven’t been with a woman since my twenties,” Steve mumbles, thinking about it. He glances at Bucky. “You have.”

They both know Bucky was dating women casually when he met Steve, years ago. “Yeah,” he says simply.

“You ever miss ‘em? Women?” Steve kind of does sometimes. He likes how soft they are; the contrast. It had taken him a couple of dates and a few glasses of wine, back when they’d first gotten together, to admit to Bucky that he was bi. Steve had told him that, and then Bucky had disclosed his designation status. “We used to talk about the whole poly thing a lot more.”

“Hm, yeah I guess.” Bucky shrugs and reaches to take his hand. Steve gives it a squeeze. “I dunno babe. Kind of hard to think about anybody else when I’ve got you around.” He gives him a lecherous look that makes Steve glad they’re the only ones in the waiting room. “Your hot body’s been enough to keep my attention.” His eyes drag up and down Steve, mentally undressing him.

Steve feels heat creep up his neck and he chuckles, pushing Bucky’s hand away. “Stoppit. Jerk. I’m a person.”

“Punk,” Buck smirks. “You like it.”

“Shuddup. Not here. God, you’re such a creep.” They’re both grinning—probably like complete, horny letches—when the door to the therapist’s office opens.

The professionally dressed woman offers them a friendly smile. “Bucky, Steve.”

“Hey Linda,” Bucky greets.

“How’d it go, Doctor?” Steve asks, not on as informal terms with the CDP staff as his husband is. “Is she …”

“Mary is fine. Would you like to come in and talk with us?”

Bucky is immediately standing from his chair. “Yep.”

Steve has to refrain from rolling his eyes. He grabs Bucky’s wrist. “Hang on now, Buck. Maybe she doesn’t want us in there. We should try and give her choices where we can.”

Doctor Linda surprises him by saying, “Actually, Mary says she’s fine with discussing this all together.”

Bucky shoots him a smug look and tugs his wrist back. “See?”

This time Steve does roll his eyes, but he nods at Linda and gets up to follow her back into the office.

Bucky

Bucky can recall very clearly the first time he’d been told he had a mental illness. He’d been ten, had been sent to the school shrink for misbehavior. He remembers how his mom had come in, harried about being called off from work when her kid wasn’t even sick. Bucky had felt bad about that, had felt like he’d done something wrong (well, he had scrubbed Trixie Wallace’s face into a mud puddle at recess).

But still, even at ten years old he’d been smart enough to know that this meeting with his mom and the counselor was more serious than another simple admonition or in-school suspension.

Long story short, His mom wound up reacting with something like embarrassment, and Bucky had wound up internalizing that for a long time, feeling like his “condition” was something to be kept private and not discussed.

Now, he sits in Linda’s office and makes sure to exude an air of calm and acceptance. He doesn’t want Mary to be embarrassed about this like he was. It helps that times have changed a bit since Bucky was a kid, and he knows this particular Center very well. They do good work with the designated community. Bucky knows that no one here is going to announce to Mary that she’s a deviant.

Mary’s sitting in her own chair, separate from where Bucky and Steve share the couch. Even though Bucky’s instinct is to tell her to come sit with them, he holds back. He knows that the seating arrangement is likely purposeful on Linda’s part. He tries to remember Steve’s words about giving Mary choices where they can. Domination may be what she needs, but too much of a good thing, administered too fast, can still be harmful.

“High needs,” Steve is saying, echoing what Linda’s just told them. “... So, she’s like Bucky, but submissive?”

“Yes,” Linda confirms. “We did the assessment twice, and both times Mary tested at the far end of the spectrum.”

“Fantastic,” Mary mutters.

“We’ve been discussing what this might mean for her care plan, going forward. Mary has several other issues that I believe tie into her unfulfilled needs as a submissive.”

“I don’t understand how it went undiagnosed for so long,” Bucky says, feeling vaguely upset about it. “Doc?”

She shrugs. “Mary’s from a part of the country where mental health awareness isn’t so advanced. They didn’t test in the public school system where she grew up.” Mary makes a quiet noise of discontent and Linda adds, “So we’ve been talking about the physiology of it, the role of neurotransmitters and how important it is for her to be dropped regularly. And we’ve discussed what that might look like, different options she has.”

“Options?”

Here, Linda hesitates. “Well … Mary has expressed an interest in taking advantage of the Center’s social programs.”

“No,” Bucky says right away. “Absolutely not.”

“She said you do it,” Mary counters, and when Bucky looks over he finds her glaring at him. “Apparently, I don’t need you after all. I can just come here and hook up with any old body.”

“I’m your legal guardian right now,” Bucky reminds her. “And the clubs are for people who know what they’re doing. It’s too unstructured for you. You need more stability than that.”

Mary scoffs and crosses her arms, but Dr. Linda is already nodding in agreement. “I think Bucky’s right, Mary,” she says gently. “A reliable, dominant partner and regular drops in a safe space are what you need right now.”

“Why can’t you just write me a prescription or something?” Mary complains. “You said it was a brain chemistry thing, so why not?”

Linda looks uncomfortable as she explains, “Medication is usually only considered as a last ditch treatment option … and with your substance use disorder and other issues I'd rather not —”

“I am not an alcoholic!”

“No meds,” Bucky says, hating that idea. “Come on, Mary. You don’t want to be drugged up, do you?”

She glares at him. “You just want to control me.”

He fights very, very hard not to roll his eyes. “Yeah,” he quips. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

Mary groans and slumps back into the cushions of her chair, looking put out. “This sucks.”

“It’s manageable,” Linda reminds gently.

"I don't want to be this way," she mumbles. "'High needs'. It's embarrassing."

“It's no different than needing air, or food or sleep,” Steve supplies. “You guys just have this extra thing.”

Mary makes a face, probably at being lumped into the ‘you guys’ category with Bucky. “So, what’s the plan then?” she asks mulishly, crossing her arms. “We go back to your place and you break out the whips and chains?”

Bucky barks out a laugh before he can stop himself. “Oh, honey. I promise there aren’t any chains.” He winks at her. “I prefer leather.”

Mary

After the therapist, it gets a little easier to be around Steve and Bucky. Mary’s still quick to anger, thinking about the situation that she's managed to get herself into, but there are some ameliorating factors to the situation.

Having an official diagnosis—no matter how much she doesn’t want this diagnosis—is at least a starting point. Mary doesn’t have to keep exhausting herself, arguing with Bucky that she’s not a sub. She is. That’s that.

And when he takes it upon himself to speak with Mary’s boss about her situation (effectively getting him to unfire her for the multiple days of work she’s missed) some more of Mary’s contempt for Bucky slips away.

“Thank you,” she says quietly once they leave the café, her next shift already scheduled for that upcoming Monday. “ I … this job, it means a lot to me.”

“I know.” Bucky says simply, though Mary can see the self-satisfaction in his posture. He takes her hand as they walk together down the sidewalk, and to Mary it feels like some sort of test, like he’s waiting for her to pull away.

So she forces herself to curl her fingers around his and keep holding his hand.

Again, she can practically feel the reaction coming off of him. He’s pleased with her. Mary’s cheeks flush from the domineering squeeze he gives her hand from time to time as they walk, and she’s grateful that she can blame it on the day’s chilly air.

Doctor Linda had explained everything, of course, when Mary went in for the assessment. The testing hadn’t been what she was expecting, hadn’t been embarrassing or invasive. And, perhaps most disappointing of all, it hadn’t been predictable. Mary hadn’t felt like she knew which way to fake her responses, to get the test to declare her mentally fit. So she’d answered honestly. 

And where had that gotten her? Lumped into the same group of deviants as James Bucky Barnes. “High needs”—God it sounds awful.

“It’s not necessarily sexual,” Linda tells her at her second appointment. “Or, well … it doesn’t have to be, at least. There are ways around it, if you really need an asexual dynamic.”

Mary nods along, but inside she thinks about the last time Bucky scolded her or praised her or held her hand on the sidewalk. She thinks about when he’d put his hand on her throat and applied pressure. Thinking about those things doesn’t make her feel asexual at all.

The first time Bucky doms her in a coordinated manner, she’s actually unaware of what he’s doing at first. It’s one of Mary’s  three days off and she’s terribly bored, researching how to make grapefruit soda caviar and wondering if there’s a gym nearby that she could join. She hasn’t exercised in weeks, and honestly, if there’s even the slightest chance that she’s going to wind up being naked in front of Bucky or Steve (or, oh god, both of them), then she really feels like she needs to work out.

Scratching fingernails over the skin of her lower stomach, she googles nearby gyms, finds one that looks decent, and tells Steve that she’s headed out to go join. She’s tying one sneaker when Steve objects.

“Oh but wait,” he says. “Um, Bucky’s going to be home soon. And I think he uh, I think he had plans. … For us.”

Mary raises an eyebrow. She likes Steve—thinks he’s kind of a big, beefy sweetheart, actually—but sometimes his devotion to Bucky and what Bucky wants is annoying. “Fine, you stay here and tell him where I went. I’ve got to get out of this apartment.” And out from under you and your bossy husband’s constant supervision. “Got to … I dunno, burn off some steam.”

Bucky’s timing is impeccable. He comes through the door just as she’s bending over to lace up her other sneaker. His arms are full of plastic grocery bags, which he dumps onto the kitchen counter with fanfare. "Honey, I'm home."

“What happened to using the reusable bags?” Steve drawls, earning an eye roll from Bucky.

“Forgot 'em.”

“Mmhm.”

“Shut up.” Bucky’s grinning at his husband, until he catches sight of Mary crouched in her gym clothes. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks her.

“None of your business,” she snips, standing back up and heading for the front door.

“Stop right there, Princess.”

Oh. Well that’s a new one. Mary turns back around with what she’s sure is an incredulous look. “‘Princess’?”

Bucky smiles warmly and drags her over to inspect the groceries that are in the bags. She’s quick to catalog: eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk. “What?” she asks, looking up at him. “You think I’m going to cook for you?”

“Oh I know you’re going to cook for me,” he says calmly, taking dry goods out of one of the bags and arranging them in the pantry. “Bake, in fact.”

Mary might stare a little, maybe with her lips parted. She feels equal parts annoyed and intrigued by his audacity. Something vaguely squirmy and warm stirs in her. She's planning on throwing some haughty quip back at him, maybe casually threatening poisoning, but somehow what comes out of her mouth is a subservient, “Well … what do you want me to make?”

He turns back around with bright eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you can come up with something,” he practically purrs. He gets right up in her space and says, “Something … delectable.”

Mary has to avert her gaze and turn away. She says a quick prayer that he hadn’t been close enough to hear the little hitch in her breath, then tries to focus her attention on cataloging the ingredients the jerk has brought her. Eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk …

Hadn’t she … hadn’t she been going out somewhere? Oh yeah, right. The gym.

She squeaks when Bucky claps a cheerful hand on her shoulder and gives her a squeeze. “Good girl,” he simpers, then walks over to the couch and flops down next to Steve, giving him a kiss hello. They proceed to chat with each other and chat about their days like Mary isn’t standing less than twenty feet away in the kitchen.

She suddenly feels like some 1950’s housewife. … One with damp panties, now that Bucky’s called her that right in her ear. Christ. Had Steve heard? She glances back over to them, but they’re not looking her way. Mary flushes and looks back down at the countertop. Eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk. She tries to think if she has everything she might need for soufflé cakes.

“How can something so plain be so good?” Steve wonders at the dinner table, where he’s squinting closely at his third helping of dessert like he can glean answers from it. “And what is it?”

“Satisfying,” Bucky says sagely. “That’s the secret.”

“The secret is buttermilk. And it’s cake, Steve. Just eat it.”

“How’re those dishes coming, Doll?” Bucky calls back, shooting her a sly look from over his shoulder. Mary resists the urge to stick her tongue out at him and dunks her hands back into the soapy sink water. 

Steve pokes the jiggly cake with his fork. “What are yooou?” 

By the time they’re finished with dinner and dessert (and dishes), she’s figured it out. All the pet names, the casual touches and the confident demands? Bucky’s trying to dominate her. She thinks about calling him out on it, but promptly forgets to do that when they go into the living room to watch a movie and Bucky firmly suggests that she make herself comfortable on the floor instead of the couch. At his and Steve’s feet.

Forget about damp panties, she just hopes it doesn’t start to show through her leggings.

Asexual dynamic her ass.

Mary had only held onto the illusion that the guys were gay gay for about two whole days, before it became very apparent that they actually like women, too. Steve’s comments alone about Daenerys while watching Game of Thrones are enough to broadcast that he swings both ways.

So that takes it from regrettable to just plain insulting when, as time goes by, Bucky doesn’t initiate anything sexual with her. He keeps doing his whole Dom thing, aided and abetted by Steve, and almost always in ways that take Mary off guard. He’s never mean, never does any of the intimidating things she’d imagined a dom would do to a submissive. 

And Mary won’t admit it, but she’s starting to look forward to when Bucky gets home from work at the end of the day. She spends more time than she’ll ever admit planning out something new to make for dessert, all the while anticipating the beginning of Bucky’s early evening commands and how they elicit those first tendrils of effervescent, pink fizz giddiness. 

It’s the later commands—the ones that come after dinner and during tv time, that tend to bring on the warm, sunken bathwater feelings. Marys pretty sure that Steve is a bit of a voyeur, because he seems fascinated by it all, watching every night as Bucky bosses her around, sometimes even joining in his own small ways, by petting her hair or telling her she’s sweet, or something like that.

Every evening, they play this strange game. And every evening Bucky and Steve each give her a kiss on the cheek and send her dazed little self off to bed, the two of them retiring to their own room. In the beginning, being left alone to go to bed is nice. She ignores the arousal between her legs in favor of floating in her syrupy sea of sweet feelings. Going to bed in subspace gives her the most solid sleep she’s ever had in her life. But after another week of it, and then another, the arousal starts to linger a little more at bedtime. She starts to fantasize about what it would be like to keep things going, to take Steve’s hand at the end of the night and let him guide her into his and Bucky’s bedroom, rather than her own; be held between their two big bodies while they whisper more sweet things to her and touch her in new places …

Maybe Steve and Bucky really do just want this to be platonic, she thinks, as another week of the same goes by and her dreams are getting dirtier by the minute. She’d surreptitiously stuffed her vibrator into a bag when they’d gone back to her apartment to retrieve her belongings, but she’s been too afraid to use it when Steve and Bucky are right across the hallway in their room, mortified to think that they might hear the buzzing and know what she’s doing.

Best not to add fuel to the fire, she thinks, when she ignores how increasingly horny she’s becoming and forces herself to lie still and count sheep and not fantasize about the two insanely hot, not-gay-gay men in the next room. They’re still a happily married couple, she tells herself. They’ve got no interest in her as of yet, and she’ll just be making herself into a homewrecker if she pushes for more.

… Or maybe they’re just not attracted to her that way, she eventually starts to think. Steve and Bucky are both in amazing shape, and they’re very good looking. They probably see her as like … maybe a solid five—with makeup and a blowout. 

She gets a little down in the dumps about it, realizing that all the heavy drinking and crap diet of this past year and a half has taken its toll on her, and she’s just not physically their type. She convinces Bucky to start adding salmon to the grocery list, she researches the pros and cons of lip filler, and starts whitening her teeth with one of those nasty little gel kits.

She stands in front of her bathroom mirror each night and scrutinizes her naked body, dragging her nails absentmindedly against the skin of her lower stomach and cataloging everything that’s not as good as it could be. She considers the scars on her hip that have no new slices added to the roster, wonders if Bucky ever wound up telling Steve about how … how awful they are …

“Night, Mary!” Steve chirps from across the hall, making her inhale and flinch in surprise.

“N-night!” she calls back through the wall, feeling the pleasant effects of that night’s drop fading away faster than she’d like.

Maybe she should just be happy that she’s getting at least this much attention from them, that things have improved a little and she at least isn’t drinking herself into a stupor each night anymore. That’s a positive, even if she is still left pining after them like a fool every night. Steve and Bucky are okay guys, but they probably just don’t want anything more than this from her. They’re helping her because she shares this mental illness with Bucky, and that’s super nice of them, but it doesn’t mean they have to be attracted to her, too. Mary’s not entitled to anything.

She joins a 24 hour gym and takes to binge exercising in the middle of the night to push away the uncertainty.

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[shakesthewizard]

Hi please explain about fabianxadaine???

Okay since you asked so nicely here's the fucking thing about Fabadaine

First, some background info

Before we dive in, you should know a couple things. For one, I'm a firm bad kid polycule truther. You could truly pitch me any pairing/grouping of those kiddos and I could find a really ineresting and/or sweet dynamic to eat the drywall about

You should also know that I'm gonna most likely remember some details during this analysis - if you spot them, please let me know by putting them in a bottle and throwing them into the ocean.

Second, some character meta

Adaine O'Shaughnessey is a girl with a lot of courage. It's sort of her defining character trait. The idea of "a wizard with an anxiety disorder" brings to mind someone pretty timid, who's afraid of speaking their mind. But from her first appearance, we see clearly that to Adaine, her disorder is pretty explicitly medical. On her first day of freshman year, she's already talking back to her horrible parents and trying to stand up for herself. Long before she gets access to medication, her disorder hinders her the way an asthma attack might; it has no bearing on her willingness to do the courageous thing.

Relatedly, Adaine thrives under adversity. Not abuse or mistreatment, mind - what I mean is that she likes it when people push back at her a little, so that she has opportunities to test her ideas and opinions against dissent. Look at her dynamic with Aelwyn in season three. Those two bicker and banter; they poke at each other, but it's how they're expressing things like concern or pride.

You could argue, probably well, that this is a product of sisterhood, and a product of their history in particular. But I think there's more to it than that. We see throughout the show that Adaine is a person who cares about exceeding; about learning and growing and achieving great things. It's classic wizard.

Adaine is the child of the wealthy and the important, and that shapes everything about her. It influences her struggles; her abandonment issues in particular. But it also shapes her goals, her values, and her attitudes. She seeks recognition for her skills and her labor, and she wants the people she loves to challenge her so that she can grow and make them proud.

Fabian Seacaster is the son of a famous man and a natural talent. His showmanship is clear and evident from the first moments we see him, and it's reflected in his character build from the start. He's a Champion Fighter, after all.

This showmanship is, frankly, a testament to Lou Wilson's masterful understanding of characters. That single trait can be picked apart to help us understand everything about him.

Fabian is a showman because he was raised as the scion of an up-and-coming house; given every tool he needed to learn his parents' skills, and to prepare him to take the Seacaster name when the time comes.

Fabian is a showman because he believes wholeheartedly in his own greatness. His whole life, he's been surrounded by tutors whose whole job it has been to mold him into the perfect son, and they were paid enough to care about doing it right.

Fabian is a showman because he knows he's earned his own arrogance; wealth or not, pampered lifestyle or not, we see him scold his fencing teacher when he goes easy on him. Fabian isn't blinded by his privilege (or at least not entirely) - he genuinely cares about being the best, and he'll give up the luxury if it means greatness.

Fabian is a showman because he's deeply anxious. Bill and Hallariel clearly love their son, but being the only child of a world-famous pirate, tasked with being their emissary to Solace for future generations, is an unbelievable amount of pressure. Fabian has to be perfect to the world outside. He can't just be good; he can't just be great; he has to be Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Son of the Famous Bill Seacaster!

Fabian is a showman because he has to figure out who he is, somehow. Who is he, outside of his father? He certainly doesn't know, but suddenly he realizes he has to know, for his own sake. So he does what any kid does when they're trying to figure out their identity - they act out.

Finally, what I understand about Fabadaine that nobody else does

Fabian Seacaster and Adaine O'Shaughnessey are the children of the wealthy; the important. They're both second generation Solesians, sent out to represent their families. They're both ambitious people who are trying to achieve great things outside the expectations of their parents. They're both proud and straightforward, prioritizing their values over social niceties.

Adaine and Fabian both carry the swords of their dead fathers.

To put it simply - Fabian and Adaine are really good foils for each other, and I dislike when their dynamic is reduced to classic highschool boyfriend/girlfriend tropes.

As an example, a number of fics I've read have Fabian pursuing Adaine, and that simply doesn't hold up. Let's be honest here - Fabian has terrible taste in women, and has a bad track record of making the more self-destructive choice whenever romance is on the table. I have no doubt he likes Adaine, but he would also know that she'd hold him accountable and challenge him when he makes stupid choices. No, Adaine is the one initiating here.

The thing that really draws me to this pair is because both of them need and want to be challenged, but each of them has a different attitude towards challenging others, and it makes for an active dynamic that can evolve in a lot of interesting ways.

You know what, check back later. I need to write fic about this.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #adaine o'shaughnessey #fabian seacaster #fabadine

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 3

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6  | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, eventual drinking and drugs, a little smut but nothing crazy (yet), a bit slow burn but not really.  

word count: 1,509

Over the first month, your friendship with Pedro only grew stronger. You were afraid once the production set was moved to the country, he was going to just disappear, as you were no longer roommates. You’d be lying to yourself if you said he didn’t make you feel anything, especially with how charming and flirting he was. You both had shared a lot of personal stuff over smoking joints and you were already used to hanging out together after a day of filming. But today things were going to be different, because the producers had organized a little happy hour for the crew.

Speaking of them, you had asked Pedro to keep your friendship on the low, at least during the job. You knew what everyone would say and think, mostly about you alone, so you were looking after yourself. He understood that and apparently didn’t care to be sneaking out like a teenager to spend some time with you.

“There you are”, Pedro happily greeted you on the corner of the happy hour room, about two hours into the event. “I almost didn’t get the chance to see you today. How’s everything going?”

At this point, you were certain the director hated you, but thank God he was the only one. Everyone else seemed to really like you and your work, which helped a lot with your anxiety.

“He spent the day trying to drive me crazy… Again”, you told Pedro. “You?”

“I would definitely rather be directed by you, if I’m being honest” he said in sympathy. “But yeah, it won’t take long for me to tell him to fuck off. Super nicely, of course.”

You both laughed. You could see he had been drinking and so did everybody in the room. Somebody turned up the music and Pedro dragged you to the improvised dance floor. You danced for about half an hour, until you saw him going to talk to Donna, one of the producers. They seemed friendly— too friendly, if somebody asked your opinion. You noticed it before, how close they acted sometimes, but at the end of the day, it was none of your business. Flo, the make-up artist that got you the job, got your attention and you walked to her.

“What’s up with that face?” She shot you the question. Flo was in her mid 40s and you got to know her in your first gig, since then she was always trying to connect you with people. You really liked her and, most importantly, trusted her. “You looked like you were about to commit murder on the dance floor. I know Dave is giving you a hard time, but honestly he is doing this to every single soul.”

“I was just wondering, is Donna taken?”, you asked as if you had no intention behind it.

“Yeah, I think so”, she told you. “Why? You gay too?”

“Someti— wait, what?” You stared at each other for a few seconds. “Is she?”

“As far as I know”, she said simply. “And by that I mean I’ve known her for about 10 years now. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, you didn’t. I mean, good for her, right.”

You decided you need to put your shit together now on. You excused yourself and went to get another drink — you can be a new woman tomorrow. You took some shots and got a drink to hold while you watched everyone dancing and having a good time. You tried to force yourself to stop thinking about your crush on Pedro.

“I need professional help”, you whispered to yourself.

“And why is that?”

“Shit, Pedro!” You jumped, realizing he was right by your side. “You scared the shit out of me, you shithead.”

“Wow, language, sweetheart”, he laughed at your reaction, putting his arm over your shoulder. “What are you up to?”

“Not much, just enjoying the free drinks”, you replied, also enjoying the proximity of his body. “I can see you’re enjoying them yourself.”

“Nah, I’m thinking about getting out of here, people are starting to get too drunk and God forbid I witness anything I can’t unsee”, he was being playful and seemed happy when he got a smile out of you. “Care to join me? Or you already have plans for tonight?”

“Yeah, you know me, Miss Popularity herself”, you both laughed. “Seriously, though. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Is it okay if we leave together? Considering your privacy policy”, he whispered in your ear. Only if he knew how weak that makes you. You just nodded. “After you, mi princesa.”

Fuck you, Pedro Pascal, you thought as you made the effort to move your shaking legs. Two options: first, he had no idea of his effects on you, or second, he did know that and he just liked to torture you. However it is, you were not willing to make a move to figure it out. 

The location of the shooting was a huge farm, so you walked together through the open field, towards his cabin. You got inside and took your shoes off.

“Hey, mister ‘I’m just a common worker as everybody else’, tell me again why exactly you are the only one with a private hot tube”, you teased him. He laughed. “Is it because you’re such good friends with Donna?”.

“So that’s what it was about back in the happy hour?” Pedro looked deeply into your eyes. “Such a jealous little girl, uh?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You can’t deny your brain formulated that sentence, but the alcohol spilled it out your mouth.

“Answering your question, I’m not really friends with Donna, but her partner is one of my closest colleagues in the industry”, he said in a patient tone. “And you’re welcome to use the hot tube whenever you feel like it.”

You could feel your cheeks burning. Fuck.

“I didn’t mean to— to be honest, I don’t even know what I meant, so don’t mind drunk Y/N”, you breathed out strongly.

“Why don’t we forget about it and instead go chill in the hot tube?” He offered you a smile. Pedro was so easy to deal with, always trying to make you comfortable. “I have more of that nice whisky you like.”

You quickly put on your bikini in your room and head back to Pedro’s cabin. You could hear the happy hour turning into a party on the back, as you joined him inside the tub. You did your best to not stare at his toned, tanned body. He was smoking a cigar and handed you a glass.

“You know what’s funny”, he started, you already knew you wouldn’t find it funny at all. “This is the second time I see you in a tub.”

“Well, fuck you very much sir”, you held a serious face before letting a smile scape. “That was traumatic.”

“Why is that? I would say you made quite an impression”, he laughed, something different sparkling in his eyes. “Would it bother you if I said I still think about it?”

You felt your body hot, as if the water was on boiling point.

“God”, you whispered. He never took his eyes off yours. “I don’t know what to say, Pedro.”

“It’s a simple question, sweetheart”, he replied, coming a little closer. You got chills all over your body. “Honestly, I don’t know if you only see me as this friendly, older, disgusting man—”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” you cut him before he could finish. “Feel free to think about whatever you like.”

“Good”, he said quietly, his body even closer, but still not touching yours. “Tell me what you were doing on the tub that day, sweetheart.”

“I-I was, uh,” you felt like you were about to explode, your brain trying to process if this was really happening. “I was touching myself.”

“Finally, princesa”, he let out a deep breath against your neck. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to hear you say this, to be sure my memory wasn’t fucking with me.”

He touched your waist with his hand, putting the cigar away with the other one. You felt delirious.

“What are you going to do now that you know?” The question popped out of your mouth.

He grabbed your arm to move your body, making you sit on his lap. Face to face. He was hard as fuck.

“I will take you back to your cabin, give you a goodnight kiss…” He made a pause. His stare was deep down your soul. “Come back to mine and think ‘bout you while I mind my own business.”

He was dead serious.

“I’m too horny to go to sleep”, you cried to him, all your blood concentrated between your legs. You moved on his lap, rubbing against his cook.

“Trust me”, he said as his hands firmly held your hips down, making you stop and yet feel him ever harder. “I feel the same way.”

He gave you a little forehead kiss.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

CHAPTER 4 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86​ (edit: i’m not sure why i wasn’t able to tag everybody i’m trying my best here)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

[blainesebastian]

touch

words: 1,183 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “Austin dating a girl not as touchy as him? He tries to tone his pda down for her but she actually doesn’t mind it at all when it comes from him” warnings: none notes: thanks so much for reading and for everyone sending in asks lately! appreciate ya’ll :)  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted, @rairaielv

It’s not that you've got anything against PDA, it's not that at all. It's just...not your thing. Long story long, a lot of shady shit happened in your past with exes that you've accepted now (it's not that you're okay with it, you actually understand now that you can't assign yourself blame). The only thing you can do productively is accept that you were with a man who didn't love or appreciate you and that the only time he was comfortable showing intimacy, or his definition of it, was when he raised his hand at you.

You can accept that it wasn't the love you deserved and that while you can't change your past? you can influence your future.

Which is where Austin comes in.

You and your boyfriend have completely different love languages, which is fine, it's almost like you connect even better that way. Yours is most definitely words of affirmation and Austin knows how to read you like an open book, fingers along the pages and dragging against the letters. The softest words spoken into the shell of your ear, endearing nicknames and boasts of encouragement when you need it the most...he just always knows exactly what you need to hear.

When it comes to Austin's love language? it's undoubtedly touch, which somehow makes the most sense to you. In your opinion, it's the warmest of the love languages, and Austin is everything to do with that—he's the most genuine, kind, and thoughtful, it radiates from him like an aura. It seeps through every small touch that he has. A hand along your lower back or moving up and down your spine in comforting circles, trailing along your shoulder blades or rubbing the tense muscle at the back of your neck. Lingering presses of his fingers on your thighs, between them, the way he tugs on your elbow or gently clasps your chin to keep you close, to kiss you. His touches are always, always, playful, intimate, loving.

And that was incredibly hard for you to get used to...something you're even still working on because deep wounds don't always heal or scar over like they should.

You’re not afraid of Austin and you welcome the times he touches you, it’s more about the involuntary actions of your body that you can’t control. He knows more than enough about your ex, so he understands—but it’s when he comes up behind you, surprises you, when he moves too fast in your peripheral vision…you flinch. Can’t help it.

It drives you absolutely crazy that this is your body’s natural reaction.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” You say quickly, your hand resting on your chest as your heartbeat throbs against your eardrums.

Austin shakes his head, crouching down to begin picking up the big chunks of ceramic from the mug you’ve dropped. “Don’t be—it’s my fault. I didn’t see you had earbuds in.”

And like—that shouldn’t matter? It shouldn’t matter that Austin came into the kitchen and began talking to you when you got home but you couldn’t hear him. It shouldn’t matter that he reached out to touch your shoulder to get your attention because you’re…you’re literally in one of the safest places you could be. You keep waiting for the day where you’ll move past your trauma? Or maybe get used to it to the point where it doesn’t impact your current relationship.

Yet it’s been two years and that hasn’t happened.

Austin can tell you’re frustrated about it and as he cleans up the mess on the floor, he reaches out and squeezes your ankle, “Don’t worry about it.”

You roll your eyes, not at him but at yourself before letting out a breath from your mouth and fluttering the hair that’s framing your face, “You should let me get that.”

He puts the shattered pieces into the trash and brushes his hands together, “Nah all done.” He leans against the counter next to you, reaching into the cupboard to hand you another mug to get some coffee.

“That was my favorite mug.” And now you’re slightly pouting, thinking about your collection of mugs that Austin has to put up with.

The one that broke was a soft gray with cows on it, flying saucer at the top. When you filled it with hot liquid, neon green beams would appear and hover over the cows as if they were going to take them up into the saucer. Clearly a classic.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your nose, “I’ll buy you another one.”

You smile a little, can’t help it, turning your head so you can kiss him gently. You really do love him. You’ve noticed that sometimes, and maybe it’s not on purpose, where Austin tries to tone down how he touches you. That’s actually one of the last things that you want.

“I know I still have my moments,” You offer after a second, pouring yourself some coffee. You add a spoonful of sugar and a splash of cream, taking a sip. Austin takes the mug out of your hand, stealing his own sipful. “But you don’t have to change how you are around me. I…actually feel really grounded when your hands are on me.”

Austin smiles just a little because he’d…never ask you to explain yourself or somehow reassure him but you also at the same time want to make sure he knows that? You mean what you’re saying. You’re still working on a lot, but nothing ever feels as perfect or complete than when you’re in Austin’s arms. You don’t care how cliché that sounds.

He turns a bit so he’s facing you, cupping your cheek before leaning down and kissing you. It’s fuller than before, a bit longer, laced in intimacies that you know like the back of your hand, reaching for him in the dark. His thumb brushes along your cheek before he pulls back.

A warm hum leaves your lips and you nip at his lower one before his gaze takes you in, a sparkle of deviousness that you recognize in the depth of his blue eyes.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a preference, would you? ‘Bout where you prefer my hands on you?”

A laugh flutters in your chest because he can be so corny sometimes and it’s utterly amazing he says some of this stuff with a straight face. Shaking your head at yourself because here you go playing along, taking his hand and having it touch your face again. You press a kiss to his palm before moving his touch to your waist, your lower back, until it’s sliding up and underneath your thigh as you lift your leg to wrap around his waist.

“Here’s good too.” You whisper, right against his mouth.

Austin smirks, stealing a soft kiss before he lifts you up into his arms in one fluid motion, carrying you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Your laughter echoes against the walls of your home and when your back hits the mattress, you definitely guide Austin’s hand down, right between your legs.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

[lixiebokie]

sorry i love you

genre: lee felix x reader, hwang hyunjin x reader college au; dancer!felix x artist!reader x artist!hyunjin, fluff, angst

masterlist

—————————————

chapter 1: dorm parties

“do you think everyone has a soulmate?” felix thought for a moment popping another cherry into his mouth.

“i would like to hope so.” he responded eyes not leaving the view of the open city from the small window of bedroom. he watched as the car zoomed past and people walked past. “i hope i have a soulmate.”felix broke his gaze now looking at y/n. “are you serious? ofcourse you have!”

you were 15 then. everything was so different. felix was so different. 15-year-old him would have never threw a house party like this. so full that the wriggle past people was almost impossible or loud booming rave music that you both would make fun of together.

but everything had changed. of course it had you were no longer teenagers, now young adults who had classes tomorrow morning but in lixs famous words ‘deal with it in the morning.’

“excuse me.. sorry..”

“hey move the fuck out the way!” nessa shouted as y/n watching the crowd of people part and nessa walked through. the scene was what she imagine moses would look like parting the sea. she was always so confident but no matter what she never switched up no matter how much attention she got.

unlike felix.

“abit harsh ness.” the other girl rolled her eyes playfully.

“if you want a job done you have to do it.”

y/n still doesn’t know how she manage to land a best friend like nessa kate.

if life was a movie she’d be the it girl. everyone loved her, never afraid to speak her mind yet still able to keep her opinions respectful until it didn’t need to be.

“so, you’re going to find a cute boy to talk to and i’m going to find minho. we’ll meet back in 40?” she watched her hair flick around as she turned as if she was looking for someone.

“minho? why?” y/n asked. it was obvious nessa had a thing for him but that was something only y/n knew. everytime she seen him on campus she’d send him a sweet smile or a shy ‘hi’ if she was feeling confident. usually followed by y/n trying to dodge felixs eyes trying to catch hers. the rest of the group shit on felix for ditching them for him how would they react if nessa started dating him? especially hyunjin..

“i just want to talk to him..” she shyed away looking off to hide her smile.

“hm or kiss h-“

“okay bye love you. ttyl!”

——

felix looked gorgeous tonight. dyed blonde locks pushed back with a few strands hanging over his eyes. black outfit tightly wrapping his tiny figure, his sleeves pulled up that the veins in his arms were visable.

his freckles were y/n’s favourite thing on lixs face. they weren’t as visable as usual but still could be see up close.

he was just.. stunning.

when felix had found y/n’s eyes he couldn’t help but smile across the room to her. he lifted his arm motioning her to come over to him.

“im so happy you’re here.” he shouted over the music close to her ear. she was tense from how close he was and his hands on her arms holding his balance.

“it’s..full.”

“i know. crazy..” the song changed and so did felixs mood. his mouth widened into a smile and his eyes went big showing the blue contacts he’d put in.

“this is my song!” he shouted loud enough that she could hear clearly over the music.

one thing about felix that never seemed to change was the love he had for dancing. the song was familiar, his first or second dance recital he had perform this song with a few of his team mates.felix took a few steps back letting go of y/n’s arms and began to recall the moves. they weren’t perfect, but how perfect could they in a room crowded with people. but almost accurate.

felixs dream had never to be a dancer, it was something he did for fun. just for fun. he wanted to be a baker. open his own bakery on lonely street, the street opposite the beach so he’d have the view of a life time while doing what he loves.

so when he changed his culinary major to dance everyone was quite shocked. something was off about it. that was until he told the others about how his new friends had offered him a place on their dance team. also known as the schools dance team and one of the most talented in the country.

y/n watched as a circle had formed around felix as he kept dancing. he turned to her showing a smile after seeing the attention he’d gained, not missing one move. finally finishing he stuck a pose as people whistled and cheered for him.

“that was good, blondie.” minho wrapped his arm around the shorter boys shoulder.

“thanks min.” minho pulled back now looking towards y/n would still awkwardly stood with them. he was intimidating, leader of the dance team, there was rumours that even if one mistake was made he have a show made of you.

hopefully felix was able to keep up..

“oh, um this is y/n.” goosebump rised where ever minhos eyes landed on her. he looked back up leaning forward to shake her hand. “she’s my friend.”

friend. yes not best friend this wasn’t high school anymore.

his arm slapped the top of his thigh as he pulled back, straightening his back and looking back to felix.

not even a hello?

“i should go find hannie before he tries to swing off anything.” minho stepped back rocking on his heels, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“good idea, i’ll find you later.” felix nodded and the older awkwardly walked off in a swift manner.

“he’s.. nice.” y/n stuttered out trying to make some sort of small talk but also wanting to get that awkward encounter out her mind.

felix turned from back around his shoulder. “he’s just shy.”

“lee minho, shy?” felix nodded.

“believe it or not he didn’t properly talk to me until i joined danceracha. hannie had to do all the talking.”

and the tension was back.

no matter how close her and felix were nothing could stop the thought that they no longer knew each other. y/n couldn’t even remember the last time a conversation was held for longer than five minutes.

felix wasnt like nessa.

he let the attention get to him.

it wasn’t bad at first, puberty hit and he started getting flirted with, going on dates. it was whatever but then he got cozy with the frat boys and switch his major from culinary to dance. two things he loved but something in the way he followed lee minho around campus seemed to be strange. then felix started partying, doing frat things even when he wasn’t apart of it.

he didn’t care for uni anymore it was more of a live life now thinking about it later mentality one felix never use to have. live fast, love dance. the moto of his dance team really reflected his new way of living. none of it affected y/n as much as the others hated it. well except she was slowly becoming more distance with the boy she was in love it.

“i should go find-“

“actually i wanted to ask you something.”

felix interrupted before she could walk off.

yes? she wanted to ask. anything for you felix.

but instead she turned back around and just looked at him, waiting for him to finish what he wanted.

“the girls dance team, you know the one hyunjins sister is in, wants a new logo. i showed them a few of things you’ve drew and they’d love to meet you.”

y/n sighed. does he really expect her to want to do more drawing on top of her uni work?

“you don’t have to but i thought it would be nice. and i’m friends with some of them. it might be nice to get close with some of them, it must be tiring only having nessa for your girl problems.” is he serious right now?

y/n shrugged. “couldn’t you ask hyunjin?”

“you think hyunjin is going to agree to work with ‘preppy bitches’?” felix air quoted hyunjins words before throwing down his hands looking with a dumbfounded expression.

chan: haven’t seen jinnie for a while is he with you?

y/n glanced at her phone then looked back up at lix.

“ill think about it”

“great!” felix answered before walking off to meet minho and the rest of dance friends.

you: no, i’ll go see if i can find him.

it was a surprise hyunjin didn’t end up like felix. he was just as attractive: tall, long healthy brown shoulder length hair, dumpling face with a piercing gaze and great sense of style. but hyunjin didn’t let just anyone get close to him.

he wasn’t shy for say, just not outspoken.

“hey have you seen hyunjin?” y/n asked walking up to seungmin surrounded by his music friends. he shrugged. “check lixs room?”

“oh y/n!” she could tell the voice out. she was caught up to by a few girls on two or so one being yeji, hyunjins younger sister.

the two other girls she recognised as girls on her team.

“felix told us you’re designing our new logo. that’s so neet!”

“well you know me.” she awkwardly laughed with the girls as they looked at one another. she couldn’t believe felix had already told them she would do it. even after minutes prior telling him she wasn’t sure. if he didn’t want to let anyone down no way should that have anything to do with her.

“come get a drink with us?” yeji linked her arm guiding her to the kitchen.

“i really shouldn’t.. im suppose to find-“

“it’s just one, then we’ll let you go. promise.” in the kitchen there was lots of girls all wearing the same dance jacket.

she started to feel nervous as they got closer and the girls all turned to smile at them. their was also a boy, dark hair and small frame. he stood with them but went quiet when they reached them.

“everyone this is y/n. she’s gonna be designing our logo.” the girls all showed her welcome and even a few gave a hug to show their appreciation. there was no backing out now.

she’d rather stress and overwork herself than have 15 angry dancers on her back at all times especially when one was her friends sister and someone she use to be quite close to.

yeji had spent about 20 minutes talking to her about how her uni life was going so far and how she was enjoying everything and her new friends. every other minute she was receiving texts from chan asking her were she was, how hyunjin was. she found other times herself watching felix in the corner of her eye as he spoke to a group of girls. some old one direction song blasting through the speakers next to do the drinks made it almost impossible to hear anyone.

“it’s been so long since we spoke-“

“listen yej i appreciate this but i really need to get to hyunjin.”

“why is something wrong?” he eyes turned doe like and big at the mention of her brothers name. face suddenly filled with worry.

“no he’s fine, just gonna check on him.”

“ahh true, he’s never been a party person. how are we even related?” she laughed looking into y/n’s cup.

“you’ve had barley any drink. want me to go check up?”

she passed her drink to her. “no ill be fine, it was nice catching up.”

——

“found you!” y/n peeked in finding hyunjin sat on felixs small bed. legs crossed with his sketch pad rested on them.

he gave her a small smile as she walked in quietly closing the door.

“just had to escape your sister and her friends.” y/n joked and sat down next to him.

hyunjin rolled his eyes and scoffed. “what about felix?”

“hm? what about him?” y/n peeked up at his name making hyunjin chuckle.

he closed his sketchbook putting it to the side and resting his weight on his arms.

“you spoke to him?”

y/n hummed looking down at the creased duvet. playing with it between her fingers.

“yeah, i spoke to minho aswell. it was terrifying.” hyunjin laughed.

“you spoke to anyone tonight?”

“vanessa.” hyunjin answered pressing at his tiny phone typing a message to someone. “ and chans up my ass making sure i’m okay.”

felixs room was nothing unusual. white walls and laminate floor, a box for his jewellery which stood on top of his drawers of clothes, on the ground next to it a neat folded pile which needed to be put away. but one thing that stood out was a small cork box placed on his desk leant against the wall.

it was full of random shit, a cinema ticket for fast and furious, some photos jotted around of him a dance shows and with the dance team and some of his parents.

not far in front of it stood a framed photo of felix and minho. they were dressed up in one of their dance uniforms. much like the solider uniform cheryl cole wore in her fight for this love music video.

y/n picked it up taking a closer look. felix seemed so happy around minho liked he’d found the older he always wanted but never had.

“what you got there?” hyunjin asked looking over her shoulder.

y/n turned to him not putting down the photo. “you think we were abit harsh on him?”

hyunjin went to scoff but sighed after seeing her sad expression.

“hey i remember this night!” hyunjin avoided and instead pointed to a photo seemly hidden by the photo frame.

she placed it down pulling the photo off its clip.

it was a photo of her. it was from hyunjins eighteenth a night she didn’t remember much of but was one of the best nights of her life. her arms wrapped around felixs neck and his on her waist. both squished together in a big hug but still smiling at the camera. felixs smile wider from his lack of intoxication and eyes red from the flash.

y/n smiled down fiddling with the ends that had creased over time. she felt like she was in that scene from mean girls.

but felix was cady and he wasn’t madly inlove with her like cady was for aaron.

HJ’s 18th

my bff 4 life

was scribbled on the back in felixs swirly writing.

no wonder it had been hidden, felix must have been so embarrassed it wasn’t a good photo to begin with, eyes presented red from the flash and all fuzzy from nessas shaking hands.

y/n felt angry for some reason. it was hidden. the only photo of the group on his stupid cork board was out of sight.

replaced with lee fucking minho.

she threw the photo down making it fly off his desk behind. she didn’t see it land anyway, now truly out of sight.

“i don’t understand why you still like him.“

y/n turned leaning on the desk. what wasn’t there to love about felix? he was kind, and loving. he always put her first, he was ambitious and a great baker. only, only half of that was true now. was she often wondered was she holding onto someone who was no longer there?

“the same way you like nessa.” she shurgged still leaning on the desk behind her.

“except ness isn’t some attention loving-“

the door opened and felix stumbled in. interrupt hyunjin mid sentence.

“please down tell me you were hooking up in my room!” he pinched his nose teasing them.

y/n smiled awkwardly but hyunjin wasn’t as impressed.

he picked up his sketchbook and walked out before felix could say anything else.

felix sighed walking over to his bed to pull out a storage box.

“so, you and hyunjin?”

“it’s not like that..”

felix grabbed rumidged through the box “then what is it?” he asked glancing to her. he grabbed something out the box and pushed it back under the bed. “i thought hyunjin was into ness?” felix propped up his feet so he could hug his knees.

“what are you doing in here?”

“um.. last time i checked this is my room.” he teased rising to his feet. “so?” she sighed. felix had no right to now be interested in hyunjins personal life after bailing on him after 5 years of friendship to play buddies with the dance team.

and hyunjin wouldn’t be happy finding she was going around telling everyone his business.

“i don’t know lix.” felix hummed raising his eyebrow but shurgging off showing he wasn’t as curious as he made out to be.

“oh that reminds me!” he walked to his bedside tide taking a envelope out the drawer.

he came closer to her until he was in speaking distance holding out the card. “happy early birthday from me and the dance team.” she looked to his hand hesitating to take it but she wasn’t going to leave him like that. “i have a comp on your birthday dinner, and i don’t think your friends would want me there anyway.” your friends not our friends. that had just shown felix had completely block the rest of them out of his new stylish life.

it was true, when making invitations to her birthday dinner seungmin had taken felix off the guest list and nessa had to persuade him to put him back on when reminding him of how special her and felixs friendship was but if the group could have it their way, lix would not be there. looks like today is their lucky day.

felix continued on. “but we should go out one night, me and you? to celebrate. not every day you turn 21.”

she nodded taking the card from his hand. “well i better go get this to yeji.” he held up a cropped dance jacket, red with the girls dance team name on the back in diamonds. “she left it last time she was here. so i’ll see you?” and with that felix was gone.

last time yeji was here? excuse me?

🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣🥟🐣

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[gartenofbanny]

Loo Loo Land is the second episode of Helluva Boss and is in my opinion the episode where everything started to go downhill for this series. It was the first episode that was actually emotional, but the way it handles the overall plot is mediocre at best. So today, I'm going to discuss why it's the most overrated episode in Helluva Boss as well as why it's redundant.

Rushed Character Development

Loo Loo Land rushed Octavia's character development and her relationship between Stolas as well as Stolas' relationship with Octavia. It didn't rush Stolas' overall development because he's a character who isn't defined by a single relationship, unlike Octavia.

It's revealed around the time of the episode's release that, Stolas having an affair with Blitzo led to Octavia questioning whether or not Stolas would leave her with him. Before that time Stella and Stolas were at least neutral with each other since Octavia says "When I was a kid and my parents didn't hate each other" so around Loo Loo Land's release, Stella wasn't retconned into the shitty character she is currently. So before Stolas met Blitzo they were a functional family, but after Stolas met Blitzo they are now dysfunctional and Stolas was the cause of that.

So when Stolas and Octavia talk, he promised her that he wouldn't leave her behind and that he loves her and she essentially forgives him for what he did. This was all done in the span of 1 minute and 20 seconds and I gotta ask why was this development so fucking rushed?

Stolas literally ruined his family's life and Octavia just forgives him after he made a promise that wasn't even kept later on. That's just very fast-paced and rushed there's literally no way a 17-year-old would forgive a father for that in reality. In order to make this sort of long-term just have Octavia be skeptical of Stolas' promise and spiteful towards Blitzo since he was the guy who led to her mom being crazy and Octavia being depressed. Just having Octavia forgive Stolas is lazy and will lead to not much in the future because believe me it didn't lead to much because her development was already done. You'll see what I mean later on.

Overwhelming amounts of info

Loo Loo Land just forces a shit ton of information down our throats that either had no build up or was just unnecessary.

Now here are the things we learned that had no build up:

Stolas has a daughter named Octavia who's a depressed teen

Stella is an asshole but wasn't a one-dimensional villain as of that episode's release time

Stolas has a messy relationship with his daughter

Blitzo used to work at Loo Loo Land alongside Robo-Fizz

Robo-Fizzarolli entirely

Now here's some of the unnecessary information:

Loo Loo Land is a bootleg rip-off of Lu Lu Word, a theme park run by Lucifer that wasn't mentioned in HH by Charlie, his daughter.

Moxxie is afraid of mascots for some reason, why even add that when you can just put it as Trivia or a fun fact for the character

And lastly, Octavia was afraid of Robo-Fizz, but isn't anymore

So yeah that's a lot of information some that just came out of nowhere and went nowhere, some that was unnecessary, and some that had no build-up or were fast paced. In the second episode of the entire series, no less. Instead of answering questions that the fandom had, Loo Loo Land just immediately gives them an overwhelming amount of info that just leads to more questions that still haven't been answered to this day.

Seeing Stars

So that's half of why I believe it's overrated, but why do I believe it's redundant? Well, Seeing Stars exists.

Loo Loo Land and Seeing Stars both have the same concept just different execution. Octavia runs away due to Stolas being a bad father, IMP or Stolas goes out to look for her, Stolas finds her, they reconcile, and something is on fire later on. Seeing Stars is Loo Loo Land, but way worse and this leads me to question what's the point of Loo Loo Land when we have Seeing Stars? Seeing Stars is basically Loo Loo Land 2.0

This is a callback to my previous statement, Vivziepop developed Octavia and Stolas way too fast and as a result, she doesn't know what to do with their relationship. They expressed their problems, talked, and resolved them in the span of 1 minute and 20 seconds near the end of Loo Loo Land when it should've been at least a couple episodes long.

Octavia has a couple years amount of trauma on her, that trauma just can't be solved with a talk, a hug, and an eventual broken promise.

So in short, the inclusion of Seeing Stars just shows how Loo Loo Land rushed the development between Stolas and Octavia to the point where the writers just did it again eventually making Loo Loo Land a redundant episode.

Loo Loo Land isn't necessarily a filler episode, but it might as well be.

Conclusion

Loo Loo Land at first was the "perfect Helluva Boss episode", but now it's just another Helluva Boss episode to me. While this one isn't as insufferable as some other episodes, it certainly was a big missed opportunity to actually give characters some decently paced and thought-out development. Anyway, that's all I have for today. Thank you all for reading and I hope you all have a nice day!

#helluva boss #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop #helluva boss critique #helluva critical #vivienne medrano #helluva criticism #helluva critique #loo loo land #Youtube