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rithmeres · 8 months

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i don’t think i’ve rewatched atla since becoming a committed pacifist and i just finished what was probably my tenth rewatch and i have never loved aang more. i've seen it so many times but i still came away with a new appreciation for the way the end of the story was handled. aang is the only survivor of a genocide and he is clinging to the last remnants of his culture and religion, and everyone is telling him the only way to save the world is to kill the dictator whose regime is responsible for the genocide, but to do so would abandon the deeply held beliefs of his people. if aang goes against his beliefs and kills ozai, his people's way of life dies completely and sozin wins.

aang knows it would be wrong but he can't see another way out so he prays for an answer, and the universe hears him and the spirits send out the lion turtle, and the creator answers him. and here's the thing that i never put together before today: aang would not have been able to energybend ozai if he had given in and wanted to kill him. the lion turtle tells aang that only the incorruptible can bend another’s energy, or else they will become corrupted themselves. and i think that aang, because of his love for the fire nation as he had once known it, was never corrupted by personal hatred for the fire lord or the fire nation. he was able to expertly hold two conflicting beliefs in harmony better than any adult could, the belief that ozai is a horrible person and the world would be better off without him and that he's still a human being with a life that is sacred.

and i don't think it's a matter of selfishness like some people make it out to be. aang is not some immature little kid who doesn't want to kill because killing is for bad guys. he's an incredibly wise and spiritual person who was shaped by airbender beliefs and upholds airbender beliefs, and he can see beyond the scope of this war. the balance of the world depends on the existence of the four nations, and aang does not just represent the air nomads, he IS the air nomads. he's all that's left.

despite many people’s interpretation of the four past avatars’ advice, none of the past avatars outright tell him to kill ozai. they tell him to be decisive, to bring justice, to be proactive, to be sacrificial. but none of them tells him definitively to kill him. he doesn't disobey or ignore their advice, he follows their ancient wisdom while still staying true to his beliefs. yangchen actually comes the closest to outright telling him to kill ozai (even more than kiyoshi, surprisingly) but what she fails to account for is that aang is not just the avatar, he is the last airbender, and being the last airbender is far greater a burden than being the avatar. no matter what happens, once he dies, there will always be another avatar. but if he is not careful to preserve the airbender way of life, there will be no more airbenders. yangchen could sacrifice her air nomad way of life for the sake of her duty to the world because there were thousands of other air nomads to continue their traditions. aang has no such privilege.

and it's not that he doesn't want to kill, it's that he actually doesn't think he can do it -- both that he won't be able to emotionally bring himself to kili someone, and, prodigy that he is, he doesn't have the raw bending skill to overcome a comet-powered master firebender. and then it turns from 'i don't think i can do it' into ‘i can’t do it.’ and when the avatar state gives him enough power to actually do it, he changes the answer to ‘i won’t do it.’ he overcomes all the combined power of his past lives to say no, i have found another answer and i will remain incorruptible. to kill is to maintain the power struggle of the fire nation and to reject air nomad wisdom and without airbenders the world CANNOT be brought into balance.

the only thing ozai cares about is power, and that's what the entire fight with ozai is about, physically and ideologically, because ozai only sees power in terms of force, fear, threats, and violence. to ozai, aang (and his entire people) are weak and undeserving of life because they are largely pacifists, but he fails to see the magnificent power that the airbenders do hold, spiritual wisdom and mastery of the self and contentment and joy and harmony and a deep understanding of the world that a man like ozai could never obtain. to kill ozai would ratify ozai’s worldview that power as he defines it is the most important pursuit in the world and the only way to assert one's right to be in the world is to be cruel and violent like him. i think to ozai, becoming powerless might be worse than being dead. he wants power, or he wants death, and aang gives him neither. it upends everything he believed in. aang, the avatar, but more importantly, the last airbender, armed by his past lives' power and his people's love and the spirit world's blessing and the lion turtle's omniscience (and toph's mastery of true sight through neutral jing), ends the war 100 years to the day after the air nomad genocide, in the way that his people taught him, with power that goes beyond force and violence, with spiritual wisdom, with an incorruptible soul, with mercy -- mercy that is not weakness, mercy that brings justice.

#they just don't make kids cartoons like they used to!!!!#also zuko said 'love and peace' in his coronation speech. i am squinting at bryan and mike. is that what it think it is #atla #aang #meta

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soapskneebrace · 6 months

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reviewing the prelude

Pairing: John Price x f!Reader Rating: briefly Explicit, then pretty much general audiences Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: Masturbation. References to sexual fantasy. Lots of pining. Another John POV! Author’s Notes: I swear to god we're getting somewhere I PROMISE MASTERLIST Now on Ao3!

There is no noise next door.

Silence, in Price's line of work, almost always precludes trouble. The quiet stalk of a fireteam toward an objective; the abrupt halt of an informant’s intel. Never good. Always the guarantee of a day’s bad end.

Usually, he can hear the creak of your mattress as you get up—the thing must be ancient, and he’s concerned for your back—and the rumble of your plumbing as you turn on the sink first thing in the morning. You’re always up about an hour and a half after he is, close to eight-thirty, and you usually meet him outside about an hour later. Slow riser, you are.

(He tries not to fantasize too much about tiptoeing around in the mornings as you snuggle in his bed, wrapped in his blankets as he gets breakfast ready for the both of you.)

But today there’s not a whisper of your horrible bedsprings from the other side of the wall. The pipes remain silent. When he steps outside today, he will be alone.

You’re gone for two days. He can handle that long. He can.

Still, he lingers in bed the first morning, agitated, too warm in the sheets but stubbornly trying to act like he’s still perfectly comfortable. It doesn’t work. The bed linens dampen as he starts sweating, and his morning wood is more insistent than it usually is. He sighs and gets up, lays the blankets back to let them air dry, and gets his day started.

Once he’s in the shower, and the water has warmed enough to step into, John angles the shower head to spray a little higher and leans against the cool tile wall. Hot water pounds his chest, streaming down between his pectorals and over the jumping muscles of his stomach as he takes his cock in hand and gives it a stroke from head to root. He closes his eyes.

John does not have any shame in jerking off, not really, but a niggling something always tickles the back of his mind when he thinks of you while doing it. Like he’s being too pushy, even in his own head, when he knows that you’re not on the same page as him yet.

He shouldn’t be thinking of your hand wrapped around him instead, as his fingers cover your clit and dip into your cunt, when he’s not even sure you will have him at all. John does not like to indulge in fantasy that cannot become reality.

I wanted to touch you. John snarls, bucking into his hand.

He hadn’t lied to you. He hadn’t. He can wait as long as you need. If he gets to have you, he wants you eager. He wants you certain. He wants you to relax into him without fear or doubt. Whatever he wants from you is secondary to that—he can’t enjoy himself, enjoy you, if you don’t trust him.

Would you trust him if you knew you inspired his hand to wrap around his cock?

He doesn’t know. He’s not sure. All he knows is that after he left that night, you did the exact same thing he’s doing now. That has to mean something.

He remembers it—your distant cry making it to him through drywall, insulation, and the patter of his own shower, and if he closes his eyes he can almost fool himself now, as hot water slides down his back and chest, that he can hear it again—

I wanted to touch you—

He comes, short and hard, palm sliding fast up and down his shaft, groaning roughly as his cum hits the tile. Water streams down around his face in steady rivulets, joining it.

He wants you to trust him. He wants you to let him spoil you rotten.

Turning the water off once he finishes his shower, John keeps thinking as he absently towels off. He keeps getting the sense that there’s something he’s missing.

If you want him—and he knows now, you do want him—why haven’t you said anything? He thinks about all of the times he’s tried to flirt, tried to make his interest known, only for you to treat it like a joke. Incorrigible, you call him, as if his overtures are the result of some unsatisfied appetite. As if you haven’t, from the very start, given him every reason imaginable to want you.

He studies himself in the bathroom mirror as he touches up his beard, remembering the linger of your gaze across his body. He is not a vain man, not quite, but even he might like to preen a bit over how good he looks for pushing forty. He can’t keep up with Ghost at the racks, nor Gaz on the track circuit, and Soap has him beat at the punching bags, but Price has logged every personal best within the last three years. His shoulders are broad, his chest hard and defined, and his waist tapers nicely down to wide thighs and full calves.

He runs a hand across his stomach. He’d never managed, though, to get the cut look he sees in perfume ads and superhero movies these days. Is that what women like now? Is that what you like?

If it was a complete lack of attraction on your part, he’d understand. But Price is a details man. He misses nothing, especially when it comes to you. The way you look at him, the way you move around him reveals more than he knows you ever intend to. He hears your breath shorten when he’s close, sees your pupils dilate, your brows soften. You don’t lean away when he leans in.

He remembers your gaze again, the first morning and many mornings after, and snorts at himself. Attraction, he’s fairly sure, isn’t the issue.

So what is, then?

Rather than spend the morning moping, and waiting for the ambiance of your morning routine that simply would not come, John finds a clean pair of sweats, laces into his trainers, and goes for a jog. Running has always helped him think.

Part of him wonders if his fixation is inspired in part by a long dry spell. Price hasn’t been with anyone in a long while—months, actually. His last encounter had been with a woman he’d been casually seeing in between deployments.

She’d been nice enough, certainly eager for him. They would meet, have drinks, maybe a meal, and have sex. He’d spend the night and leave early in the morning. They didn’t talk much, not at least about anything serious. She never asked about his work. She never really asked much about him at all.

Which had been the arrangement. Price had been candid about his situation from the beginning—his work came first, and he had little room in his life for much else. He couldn’t offer her much in the way of long-term commitment when he had to make peace with the real possibility that each deployment was one he might not come back from. She’d seemed to understand. It had taken Price a while to figure out that she just…hadn’t really cared.

It was more likely, he knew, that she simply could not grasp that he could die. Few civilians could really wrap their head around that fact. He couldn’t really blame her for that.

But he couldn’t deny either that seeing her had started to make it feel like his insides were slowly decaying. All he was to her was a big, rough man who would throw her around in bed and wouldn’t bother her with trite things like domesticity and mortality. A fantasy. Nothing more.

He’d broken it off in person, frank and respectful, and she’d taken it as well as he’d hoped.

Then she’d texted him a few weeks later inviting him over for drinks. He neglected to respond and blocked her number.

The cool morning air is sharp in Price’s lungs, painfully welcome, as he counts his breaths in the back of his head. He’d given up after all of that. He didn’t need sex. He didn’t need a relationship. If the walls of his flat closed in around him when he was home, alone, well—that was the sacrifice, wasn’t it? The price he paid to be able to go out into the world and fix things that other men only complained about after watching the news.

It shouldn’t matter that these days those problems didn’t stay fixed anymore.

Price finishes his circuit and comes to a gradual stop back at his front doorstep, panting hard, hands on hips as he heaves and wonders if maybe he should cut back on smoking.

He looks to your window, dark and shuttered. You always have a hot mug of coffee pressed between your palms.

He could try coffee.

The day passes. John spends some time getting his affairs in order for the end of his leave, reads the latest book you’ve lent him (a retrospective on the rise and fall of the American cattle boom), spends an hour at the gym, two at the pub, and comes home again to dark windows next door.

It’s dull. He misses you. And once his front door closes behind him, hours of silence loom in the periphery.

He’s settling into his armchair for a game on TV—championship league, nothing worth paying attention to, John just can’t stand the quiet—when his phone, deep in his pocket, vibrates. When he pulls it out, his heart leaps.

It’s just a text message. He unlocks his phone and navigates to the chat. You’ve sent a photo: a glass, filled with some sort of liquor and a couple of ice cubes, set on a rickety old plank of wood that must be a table.

Ordered this in your honor. Pretty good! Not sure of the brand. Can’t remember the one we got either

John smiles. He can’t help it. He even laughs a little, and taps on the picture to zoom in—your hand is in the frame, laying gently alongside the glass, nails painted a pretty light color and a thin silver ring around your index finger. He takes this in with the voracity of a man starving.

Macallan, he replies. The best. That looks good though

Three dots dance as you type. My coworker says it’s Johnnie Walker

I take it back, dump that swill on the ground, Price types, grinning harder.

It’s really fine! you protest.

He imagines your expression, the kind draw of your brows together in spirited defense—an expression he’s seen on you many times, advocating for some character or another that he has developed a grudge against.

God, does he miss you.

Fine for uni lads maybe, he sends.

You do remember who I’m supervising on this trip?

John snorts. Point taken. Then, impulsively, I’ll get you something even better when you’re home.

Home. When you’re home. As if home is one place, and not two, separate places merely conjoined.

You spoil me John

He sends back immediately, I’m trying to

There’s a lag. John realizes belatedly that perhaps he’s doing it again, coming on too strong. He can’t help it. When he knows what he wants—when he knows he can pursue it—he does not bother with half measures. He has been through and done too much to hedge his efforts while knowing how easily things can escape his grasp.

He has to remind himself that holding onto you too tightly, though, could cause you to slip through his fingers.

Then, finally—I don’t know why

Bells ring in John’s head. Can’t a man treat a woman he fancies? he asks.

Dots jump for what feels like several minutes, disappearing several times. He imagines you typing rapidly, that worried look he’s seen so often creasing your brow and tightening the corners of your mouth.

Eventually, a cascade.

I don’t know WHY you fancy me

There’s nothing really interesting about me

I’m quite boring

Not like you

You’ve been so to many places and done so many things and I’ve never even left the country and I don’t see how you could even like talking to me much less do anything else

I teach lit and read books and that’s all my life is and that’s not really sexy

You must have better options

I may be a little tipsy sorry

John’s frown deepens with every successive message.

This is it. This is the answer to his question, or it’s somewhere in there. He’s been wondering all day—now, this is his chance.

I’d like to call you, he replies. Is now a good time?

A brief pause, with John’s stomach hanging suspended in the air the whole time.

Then, Yes

He dials you. You pick up on the first ring.

“Hello,” you say.

I am no longer utilizing a taglist for this series. Please feel free to follow me, turn on my post notifications, or subscribe to this series on Ao3. Thanks!

Bonus A/N: I'm going to take what I intend to be a very short break from Neighbors to finish up and post the first chapter of the Soap series I've been promising literally since March. I hope y'all will look forward to that!

#price #price x reader #john price x reader #john price imagine #john price x you #john price call of duty #price x you #price x y/n #john price x y/n #call of duty fanfic #cod x reader #cod x you #captain john price x reader #captain john price #please excuse the corny fucking title i couldn't come up with anything better #og post #neighbors au

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cvntrlseecvntrlvee · 2 months

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home is where the heart is

↠ pairing: wonwoo x reader ↠ genres: fluff ↠ word count: 900~ ↠ a/n: thinking abt bestfriend!wonwoo today 🥺 also ty to @hannieween who always reads all the little drabbles i type into her inbox, that’s how we ended up with this. she also helped write part of it, the an at the bottom will explicitly say which bits!! hope you guys like it uwu

bestfriend!wonwoo who keeps you company after your break up with your shitty ex boyfriend.

bestfriend!wonwoo who lets you lean on his shoulder while you guys watch the latest episode of bake off and you’re ugly crying with a tub of ur favourite ice cream.

how he tries to distract you the next day by inviting you to play mario party because some of the boys are over and he doesn't want you to wallow in your room by yourself.

the way, after the boys leave, he takes you into his arms while on the couch and letting you snuggle into the warmth of his chest as you sniffle a little. wonwoo smells like fresh laundry and he rubs a comforting hand up and down your back.

to you, wonwoo was home.

this is basically yours and wonwoo’s dynamic haha.

and he would never admit it out loud, but he honestly loves it. he loves as you ramble mindlessly, asking him pointless questions about nothing and everything at all. he remains quiet, but every now and then he’ll say is that so? setting you off on another tangent.

you laugh at your own jokes, which makes him laugh as well. it's the kind of laugh that makes his nose scrunch and makes him push the rim of his glasses up a bit.

and when ur away for the weekend, visiting ur parents, and wonu is home alone, the silence is deafening, and he misses you.

he misses you during breakfast, how you'd grumble about having to go to work and rant about the woes of capitalism and the five day work week.

he misses you when he's rewatching the previous episode of bake off on the cold couch alone, and how you'd be telling him about the history of shortbread and something about an alliance between scotland and france.

he misses you when he's out walking the dog after dinner and how you'd be talking his ear off about every little thing that happened to you that day, in chronological order.

wonwoo's life is quiet and greyscale when you're not there and he misses the colour of your laugh and your smile and the sound of your voice.

one night, he finally convinces you to go out to the movies with him. you've been feeling better lately, and you can't remember the last time you cried about your ex.

he buys you the biggest tub of popcorn, making sure the worker slathers it with extra extra butter (even though he knows its gonna give him a tummy ache later). and he watches you fondly as you try to choose between the buncha crunch or mike and ikes (his two favourites) before settling on both.

he also gets you a cola slushie, but your hands get cold from holding the cup, making you clasp them together between your thighs when you finally go to sit down, and he wishes, god how he wishes, he could just grab your hands to warm them up a bit.

you guys decide to see the latest action movie, a genre which you love, but sometimes you can't handle the blood and gore that comes with it. so when the bad guy's about to get sliced to hell, wonwoo quickly throws his hand up to cover your eyes.

you grab his hands to move it away because im a big girl, wonu, i can handle a little blood (except your pants are on fire and you absolutely cannot) but he knows this and does not budge.

and when the scene is finally over and he moves his hand away from your face, you're still holding on to it, not letting go

wonwoo sends you a look but you've got ur eyes glued to the movie, as if holding his hand is a normal occurance (it's not) and you're not freaking out like wonwoo currently is (you are, in fact, freaking the fuck out).

wonwoo settles back in his seat, loving the way your hands feel around his and laces his fingers with yours. you keep his hand in your lap, squeezing everytime sometimes stressful or surprising happens on screen and wonwoo rubs back and forth on the back of your hand when you do.

when the movies over, you still don't let go of his hand, and neither does he. not when you’re picking up ur bag to sling over your shoulder, not when he's picking up the empty food boxes to throw away, and not when you're walking home together in the cool of the night, as you rehash the movie ending, swinging your hands between you when you get a little too excited with your theories

you're both still unwilling to let go of each other's hands when you make it back to your shared apartment, as wonwoo keys in the door code, and it isn't until you're in the hallway, in front of your two bedroom doors, that you realise neither of you want to ever let go.

so you don't.

you let wonwoo hold onto you tightly while you tell him you had a lot of fun tonight and he replies saying he always has fun when he's with you. and you get on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek, both of your cheeks warming up.

and it isn't until then that wonwoo let's go of your hand, choosing to instead grab your face with both of his and leaning down to kiss you sweetly

wonwoo tastes like a mix of movie theater butter, fruity candy and salted chocolate.

and best of all, wonwoo tastes like home.

a/n: this is my first time writing something in this sort of format! let me know what you think!! also the first part aboutt he rambling and the bit aboutt he cola slushie are courtesy of v, she's really fab and you all should go read her writing 👀👀👀

here are some lil extra bits that i didn't put into the drabble but i still think are cute to think abt hehe

gif 1 by @jeonsupershy // this wonu when he finally gets the girl he's loved all his life

gif 2 by @meowonhao-main // this wonu when you shyly nod yes to wonu asking you out to a real dinner date

this wonu (yes, im obsessed w this photo leave me alone) when you climb into his lap to snuggle after a really shitty day at work

this wonu when you whine that his kisses are too sweet and you want him to kiss you like a man

this wonu when he's about to ask you to marry him and legally be stuck w his loser gamer ass for the rest of ur life

u when u say yes because he's YOUR loser gamer ass and u love him so SO much 🥺🥺🥺

#seventeen fic #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fanfic #writing #mine #title: home is where the heart is #author: cvntrlseecvntrlvee #band: svt #member: wonwoo

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heartririmu · 1 year

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LUXIEM BOYS & READER ON THEIR PERIOD

pet names, gn afab reader. tw: blood mention & slightly suggestive content (shu and vox)

a/n: i just.. think they’re neat. this got super long bro LMAOOO. anyways periods suck ass hope y’all r well ily

Luca

— surprisingly (or unsurprisingly) very attentive and knowledgeable on what to do when your time of the month hits

— pads? tampons? he’d gotten those stocked up in bulk weeks in advance, don’t even worry babe. they come in all types of brands and even for specific needs (heavier flow, specific ones for overnight use, etc)

— he’s sending your favorite snacks and plushies of your favorite characters in a care package to your house in under an hour

— luca’s a good boy. he doesn’t get too upset if you need your space to deal with your pain, but he’s also one who wants to stay near you the entire time (something something overprotective puppy boy something something)

— also he’s got towels and such to put on the bed if you just wanna lay there and fight through your cramps that way

— heating pads? he’s got em. a warm water bottle? he’s also got that too! another way to warm up though is to just let him rest his hands against your tummy and hips, luca naturally runs very warm and it’s pretty soothing for your cramps

— stays with you as long as you need him to. he’ll be there to hold your hand and whisper comforting words as long as you need, mafia duties be damned because for the foreseeable week, luca is all yours

— “eh? work? don’t worry ‘bout that, i took the day off.. and maybe the rest of the week. you’re more important right now, alright? just relax, babe.”

Mysta

— he orders all the stuff you need via online, because he’d be too flustered to go out and buy them in person

— mysta knows what a period is and he understands the basics of it, however he does not like that it occurs monthly and he feels really bad that you have to experience it :(

— “seems kind of shit that your body wants you to have kids when you don’t want that. fuck periods, dude.”

— he cannot handle blood at all, he’d get so dizzy if he caught sight of it. if your relationship is still relatively new and you bleed onto the bed, you’re on your own for cleanup i’m sorry 😭

— he’s a sweet boy, really! it’s just he’s never really had to deal with that sort of thing before you?? it’s a new experience and it scares him sometimes

— if you want cuddles, then mysta is down 100%! anything you need to feel comfy and ease your pain he’ll do

— he runs naturally colder than others do, so if you need a heating pad he’ll get you a hot water bottle and other things like that instead.. but if you don’t mind his coolness then he’s all over you for some comforting snuggles

— when your cramps get so bad you cry he’s there to wipe your tears and hold you against him til they subside enough for you to move properly again

Ike

— ABSOLUTE KING! he takes care of everything like you legit do not even have to get up for most of the day bc he’s got you

— he brings any hygiene items you need to you directly, and he makes you food + warm drinks to soothe your cramps

— ike gets insanely flustered when buying pads or tampons for you, but he would do so anyways because he wants things to be as easy as possible for you

— HE READS TO YOU OMG!! he’d read some classic poetry or old children’s books.. something simple and soft toned that can put you to sleep

— he 110% refuses to let you do any work whilst you’re on your period. the pain is unbearable he’s sure, so you should rest instead of stressing yourself out with work!

— legit he does your work for you if it’s extremely pressing, ike would never allow you to work if you felt physically incapable

— “dearest, please. is it really that important for you to finish this document today? .. okay. let me see, i’ll finish it for you. go on and get some sleep, alright?”

— he makes sure to have an abundance of your favorite snacks and foods available for you whenever you want

— strokes your legs/hips to comfort you. he’s a touchy boy, but he doesn’t want to be overly affectionate just in case you don’t feel comfortable with being smothered

— also if you have mood swings or cry easily during your period, he’s the most equipped to deal w/ it

— like you start sobbing/tearing up, and ike is at your side IMMEDIATELY, cupping your face in his hands and wiping at your tears with his thumbs whilst cooing sweet words and shushing you

— “it’s alright, dearest. i know it’s uncomfortable, i’m sorry, i’ve got you. do you need anything? painkillers? on it.. you’ll have to let me go so i can grab them, though—”

Vox

— ough talk about being in good hands

— mans been alive for, well… forever? he knows a thing or two abt periods

— vox has stocked up on months worth of pads and tampons etc, all for your comfort

— he’s not super physical when you’re on your period unless you ask him to be? it’s not that he doesn’t want to touch you, it’s just that vox worries about causing you more pain somehow

— ^ illogical self deprecating thoughts about how he’s a demon and a monster, but he really can’t help it lol.. please reassure him that you want him to be near you :(

— he reads or sings to you if you’d like, his voice is such a big comfort ❤️ he could put you to sleep with it though so make sure you’re good to go for a small nap

— vox makes you anything you want to eat when you’re on your period btw, he likes spoiling you

— also like,, just a thought? imagine if he could smell your blood, so he realizes maybe a day or two before you actually start your period that it’s coming up

— (also you didn’t hear this from me but he gets kinda weirdly possessive of you when he smells your blood haha)

— he buys like an entirely new collection of plushies/pillows/soft things to sleep on? his mind basically goes “oh? body hurts? NESTING TIME”

Shu

— he somehow knows the schedule of your period better than you do? he tells you it’s because of “sorcerer magics” but you don’t know if you believe that

— he’s simultaneously insanely well prepared and completely caught off guard when it does happen though 💀

— pads? check. tampons? check. chocolate, your fave foods, comfort items? check check check

— however when you do start, shu’s calm and collected demeanor just shatters

— panic mode! baby boy is running around the flat, making sure everything is in order and that you’re as comfy cozy as physically possible!

— he’s not exactly experienced w periods? yk? so he’s nervy

— still, he’s super attentive like fuck 😭 he’s so sweet and gentle w/ you when you’re on your period that it’s kinda hot lmao

— shu’s naturally rather warm, his palms specifically are like heating pads

— imagine one of his hands just pressed firmly against your lower belly tho 😭 rubbing loving circles into your skin, being careful of his nails (fucking claws tbh). he’s not even meaning for it to be as suggestive of a gesture as it is,,,

— he gets flustered if you bring that to his attention.. he sorta laughs it off, even though his face is blazing and he’s avoiding eye contact

— “what?? nah, i’m just trying to help you with your cramps, i didn’t mean to make you feel like that or anything— but, if you uh.. need some help, then…?”

— just saying shu’s down to comfort you in any way that you want him to ;)

#x reader #fanfic x reader #nijisanji x reader #luxiem x you #luxiem x reader #nijisanji en x reader #tw periods #period tw #period fic #shu yamino x reader #ike eveland x reader #vox akuma x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #mysta rias x reader

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oftenwantedafton · 1 month

Text

Personal Space - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Rating -Explicit

Warnings - none for this chapter

Also available on AO3

taglist @123124133

Back inside the office, it’s as if none of it had ever happened. No insults hurled. No reprimands. No time spent outside, doing…whatever that was. You take charge of the next client. Steve’s pleasantly surprised by how well you handle the meeting. Maybe the harsh words have done you some good.

Maybe it wasn’t the words at all. Maybe it was the other…

There’s a bit of a routine to end the day. Coffee mug rinsed a final time. Blinds closed. Lights turned off. The schedule for the next day printed and left on top of his desk, the job hopefuls’ files pulled. You’re familiar with it now. Moving in sync. The last lamp is switched off, the room much darker now that the cozier lighting has been extinguished and the outdoor light is barred from entering. There’s a little illumination from a night light panel set low on the wall near the door. Enough to see by before closing and locking the office for the night.

“Do you have everything?” At least you aren’t lugging around that foolish oversized backpack anymore. The miniature version that serves as your handbag is much more tolerable. The top strap is hooked in your fingers. Raglan moves forward, thinking you’ll open the door.

You don’t. You remain standing in front of it. He’s only just realized you’re wearing a lavender blouse. Something you’d already had in your wardrobe, or a nod towards his favorite color?

“What are you…” The rest of the sentence is lost. You’ve dropped your bag. You’re leaning against the wooden surface behind you. Meeting his stare. So many shadows in the room now. Your face underlit from the wall’s fixture. There’s so little space between you and your mentor. “Move away from the door.”

“No.”

“Move…” It was happening again. His breathing going ragged. Yours matching his. Your palms resting flat against his chest. Lifting and falling in rapid succession. “Inappropriate…have you reassigned…” He cannot form complete sentences. The threat comes in soft pants.

“Is that what you want?”

He thinks on that. Isn’t that what he wants? To have you gone, to have his solitary routine returned?

“I want…I want…” His hand rests heavily on the side of your throat. Thumb pressing along your jaw. Your fingers clawing at him now. Nails scratching against poplin. What does he want? His mouth on yours. He places it there.

“Steve. Steve.”

It takes him a moment for the false name to register. The daydream dissipates. He’s still seated at his desk. The last client of the day across from him. You’re frantically trying to get his attention when discretion clearly isn’t working.

He clears his throat. Mumbles some excuse, leaning forward. Heat creeping underneath his collar. To indulge in the fantasy of it bad enough; to do it in the middle of a session with a client worse still. He’s always prided himself on his professionalism. Yet here he was, making an absolute fool of himself over some girl he barely knew. All because he’d touched you and…

His grip on his pen tightens. He was doing it again. Losing focus. You seem to realize he’s struggling and you take command of the conversation. A relatively smooth transition, all things considered. Placement found. Applicant dismissed. He releases his death grip on the writing instrument and flops back against the chair with a heavy sigh of relief.

The older man feels your eyes on him. “What?”

“What happened? You just like zoned out. Mid-sentence. I thought you were having a seizure or something.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Is he? No, not at all. But he’s not about to divulge the reason why. So he tells another lie. What’s one more on the already massive heap piling up?

“Yes. Just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night. Anyway, we’re done for today.”

There’s an eerie sense of deja vu as the office is shuttered for the evening. Except you’re not blocking the door. You’re hanging back, waiting to follow him through it. He tells himself he’s not disappointed.

The ride on the elevator is silent.

You’re parked directly next to him today. Serendipity or perhaps a deliberate move on your part. He struggles opening his door, distracted, watching you settle behind the wheel. You begin pulling down the decorations, removing everything he’d mocked earlier. His fingers cease their fumbling. He walks around his car, lightly tapping the key against the glass of your passenger window. You glance over, then hit the button to unlock the door.

Crammed back inside next to you. Knees hitting the dashboard.

“What do you want?” You pull the last of the clips off the air vents.

“You don’t have to do that. I didn’t mean…”

“Yeah, you did.” The rearview mirror is now unadorned. The cup holders are filled with the former decor. “Let’s see, what’s next on the list of my flaws. Oh yes. What’s wrong with my clothes?”

His head drops back against the headrest. It’s too short and it hits him at an awkward angle. “Nothing. I only meant you should wear things that are better tailored to suit you. It doesn’t really matter.”

“And that was nothing at lunch today too, right?”

“I…apologize for the inappropriate behavior. It won’t happen again, I assure you.”

“That’s what you’re apologizing for? Out of everything that happened today?” You scoff in disbelief.

He tips his head in your direction. Glasses sliding down with the motion so he’s looking over the tops of the frames at you. “Fine. I was unnecessarily harsh about certain things I said earlier.”

“That’s a funny way of saying you’re sorry.”

“I’m not sorry. You do need to toughen up. I’ve been too lenient.”

“I don’t understand. You told me to socialize and get to know my coworkers—”

“—Because they can be assets.”

“Is that all people are to you? Just tools to be used?”

“No one does anything in this life without motivation for personal gain.”

You look away, fidgeting with the last clip you still haven’t placed in the cup holder. “I think that’s a really sad way to view things.”

“I’m simply being realistic. Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. You don’t have to do all of this for my benefit.” He waves his hands. “Just don’t be so sensitive. People will take advantage and walk all over you.”

He reaches for the door handle.

“You’re the only person I have even resembling a friend. You told me to go back home to be with the ones I’ve left behind. There aren’t any. You’re it.”

“You should make another, then. I’m not what you’re looking for.” He shoves the door open and exits. So uncharacteristic of him, not to just reach out and take what he wants. But that was a trait he’d harbored when he’d had another identity, lived another life.

Now he is just the middle aged career counselor. Focused solely on work. Reclusive.

Alone.

***

You’re talking to someone outside Steve’s office.

A client who’s young, attractive, he’d recognized the man’s appreciative gaze on you. Speaking as if the older man wasn’t even present. Flirtatious smiles. Friendly off topic conversation that is now extending past the allotted visit, continuing in the hallway. Low murmurs and the occasional laughter. The career counselor grits his teeth. Shuts the applicant’s folder and thrusts it back inside the filing cabinet, slamming the drawer with more force than necessary. He gets up to make another cup of coffee, trying to casually view what is happening beyond the open door. You’re finally saying goodbye, striding back into the room. Today, of all days, you’re wearing the suit that compliments your curves, the hem of the pants and sleeves of the blazer just the correct length. A little narrow v of blank skin at the base of your throat he’s haunted by, trying to avoid looking at and failing miserably.

You seem to notice his stern gaze. “What?”

“When I said you should make friends, I didn’t mean the clients. It’s unprofessional,” he says disapprovingly.

“We’re not friends. We just met. We were only talking.”

“That was not ‘only talking’.”

“I have to socialize with someone, don’t I? Since you’re treating me like I have the plague.”

“I’m not. It’s called maintaining professional boundaries. Personal space, like we’ve discussed before.” He takes a sip from his mug. Watching you wilt a little. Quiet when you return to your seat.

He settles back into the leather swivel chair, placing his cup on the worn coaster. The phone rings. A new client coming in the next day. Reaching for the stack of Post Its to jot down the name. Jostling the coffee by mistake, reaching to grab it before it can spill, your own reflexes kicking in, moving at the same time. Fingers colliding. His friendly tone suddenly tight and cool. Controlled. Neither of you has moved. Still touching. Warm fingers, warm beverage heating the ceramic. He hangs up the phone, staring at your joined hands.

The social worker’s fingers slide off the mug, his hand settling on the desk. Yours curl around it. Small over large. Smooth over rough. He lets you turn his hand over, tracing over the creases of his palm, the callouses of his fingertips. Your digits weaving between his. Holding his hand properly. Interwoven. Linked. How long had it been since he’d held someone’s hand? Whose had it been? A child. His own; someone else’s. Led further into the restaurant, into the darkness.

“Steve.”

He blinks. Swallows. He shouldn’t be allowing this. How insufferable you are. Infuriating. You’re simply impossible to work with. He should have you reassigned to someone else. He should push you away.

He holds tighter.

***

You return from morning break the next day and place a small white envelope on the desk blotter.

“What’s that?”

“Wedding invitation. It’s this Saturday. Short notice, but it’s really nice they invited me.”

You withdraw the card inside and check the box announcing you’re attending.

Steve grunts. “Oh, yes. I received one of those awhile back.”

You look at him. “Are you attending?”

He scoffs. “Of course not. Why would I?”

“Because it will be fun. And they’re, you know, our coworkers.”

“Have you ever been to a wedding?” You shake your head. “They’re not fun. The catering is usually terrible. Sappy speeches. The time absolutely drags.”

“It says I can bring one guest.”

“That’s standard.”

“Come with me.”

A look of disbelief. “Why on earth would I accompany you when I declined the invitation myself already? I just finished telling you how much I dislike them.”

“Did you dislike yours?”

Raglan’s features darken. “Overstepping.”

You duck your head. “Okay, sorry. But let’s go together.”

“I’ll consider it.” He’s not sure who’s more surprised when the words leave his mouth. Why the hell would he do that? He has no intention of going. None. You smile for what seems like the first time since your recent confrontation. His weakness.

By the afternoon he’s agreed to accompany you. “Fine, I’ll go. But you’re in charge of the gift. I’ll pick you up. Be ready on time.”

He’s rewarded another smile. “Really? You’ll go with me?”

“I will attend.” As if there’s a distinction. Going but not necessarily as a couple, of course. Merely agreeing to also be present. Almost a coincidence, really. Nothing improper about it.

That’s the mantra that’s running through his mind.

***

It never occurs to Steve to consider what you’ll be wearing to the event.

So when you exit your appartment building in a sleeveless lace affair with a modest neckline and a hem that finally hits you properly he has to suck in his breath a little roughly. High heels. Hair styled. The most put together he’s ever seen you.

You tuck a gift bag behind your seat before you settle inside the car. He has to clear his throat before he can properly greet you. “Hi. You look nice.”

You grin, smoothing your hands over the lower half of the dress even though it doesn’t need it. “Thank you. Not immature, right? Not going to be embarrassed to be seen with me?”

You weren’t letting this go. Well, he can hardly blame you. “No.”

“No, not immature, or no, not embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“Neither. But we’re not…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Not going as a couple. Just both attending. Surely you understood the distinction. Well. He decides to leave it alone for now, for the sake of the occasion.

***

Once again Raglan finds himself occupying the last row, one in from the aisle while you settle into the folding chair beside his. It’s an outdoor wedding, beginning late afternoon into early evening. The weather is perfect. The career counselor folds his arms, fixing his gaze on nothing in particular while waiting for the ceremony to start.

He can feel the anticipation wafting from you. Sees you fidgeting and can’t resist hissing a reprimand. It’s like holding the collar of a golden retriever puppy, all full of nervous energy. A lost cause.

He doesn’t know the couple getting married that well. They’d met at work, and that was about the extent of what he was aware of. Lets his mind wander while the music cues up and the bride walks down the aisle beside her father. Very pointedly avoiding thinking about his own personal experience with getting married. It was a lifetime ago now. When he’d been someone else.

As predicted, less than ideal catering. Small portions. Bland food. Slice of cake so thin you could practically see through it. His face hurts from plastering a smile on it so often. Murmuring the same noncommittal greetings to everyone he encounters. Issuing obligatory congratulations to the newlyweds. People are starting to break off into groups. Casual music after the couple has their first dance. His attention wavering more and more.

“Do you dance?”

“Not to this contemporary selection, no.” His arms are folded across his chest again. Closed body language indicating he wants to be left alone. By the other wedding guests, anyway. The rest of the table he’s seated at is mercifully devoid of anyone else at the moment. No small talk has to be made.

“But you can dance,” you persist.

“You should go over there. Have fun.” He nods to the space that’s been set up as a dance floor.

“Come walk with me instead.”

He glances over at you. “And go where?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. It’s a country club. Plenty of places to go. I need to stretch my legs. Come on, Steve. Please?”

He considers the well lit area they’re currently seated in. Weighs that against being alone with you, somewhere cloaked in shadows. Surrenders with a sigh. “Alright. For a few minutes.”

You’re struggling in the heels. He recognizes it immediately. Waits while you stop long enough to remove them. Carrying them hooked on index and middle finger. Nylon covered feet now tredding on cropped grass. There’s water near this tee, faintly visible. The sounds of the party fading behind. It really is pleasant out.

“Okay. Now dance with me.” You bend to place your shoes on the ground.

“What? That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“No one can see us over here.”

“There isn’t even any music.”

“I’ll hum for you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

You move to stand in front of him. Reach for one hand. The other curling over his shoulder. His own unoccupied one sitting stiffly on your waist. He doesn’t want to do this. Why does he keep giving in to you?

He doesn’t recognize whatever melody you’re attempting to recreate. The entire thing is foolish. Turning you in a circle. An abrupt dip down that has you giggling like mad. And he’s actually smiling. Enjoying this. Being with you. Pressed this close against you.

You stumble a bit, wincing, your improvised tune abruptly ending. “Sorry, my feet are killing me. I feel like I’m getting a blister.”

“Sit down.” You struggle a bit in the dress. It’s a long way down for him. But you both manage. He taps his thighs. “Let me see your feet.” You shift, stockinged feet now in his lap. Hands gently probing, assessing. “No blisters yet but you should probably keep the shoes off as much as possible. You’re not used to wearing heels, are you?” He hasn’t paid much attention up until now but he thinks you always wear flats to the office.

“No. And they’re brand new. I just got them because they matched the dress. I thought they were pretty.” He hums, maybe in agreement, maybe in disapproval. “That feels nice.” He hasn’t stopped touching you, now massaging your sore extremities without even realizing what he’s doing.

His hands abruptly abandon you. “Anyway, you’ll be fine,” he says dismissively. You sigh, moving until your legs are stretched in front of you. Your bare shoulder close enough to nearly brush against his clothed one.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I can’t promise I’ll answer.”

“Why do you always wear long sleeves?”

“Overstepping again.”

“You told me I needed to be more aggressive with the applicants. Firm. Decisive. Direct. Focused. Getting to the point.”

“True, but I’m not a client. At least you’re retaining something,” he adds. Not mocking. Maybe a little proud.

“It doesn’t bother me if…”

“If what?”

“If you have some, I don’t know, some condition you’re ashamed of.”

“It’s not a condition.” He hesitates. Fumbles with the button of his shirt sleeve, shoving it up. Reaching blindly for your hand and guiding your fingertips to his forearm.

“Scars,” you realize aloud. “What happened?”

“Accident at a previous job. And no, I’m not giving you any more information than that.” Your fingers trace the furrowed skin. At first curious. Now the touch has evolved into more of a caress. It feels good. He doesn’t want it to. Swallows loudly when you lift the appendage. Allowing you to manipulate the limb. Mouth grazing knuckles. Fuck. Immediate heat to his groin. He needs to stop this, right now. “You shouldn’t…I’m not who you think I am.”

“What do you mean? Steve?”

It’s exactly what he needs. Bringing him back to reality. The person that you want doesn’t exist. Not really. It’s the facade you like. Not the man underneath. You don’t know who he really is. Can never know, because discovering that means a return to what he was before.

“We should probably leave.” Dragging his arm free from your warm touch. He hates it. Absolutely despises himself for not pressing you down beneath him and kissing you under the stars. But at least you’re safe. That was more important.

He knows you’re hurt, confused. That happy little bubble you’d recreated popped again. Stiff goodbyes to the bride and groom before leaving. A silent ride back to your apartment.

“Thanks for going with me.”

“I’m…glad I did. Genuinely.” It is the truth. He’d enjoyed himself, in spite of everything. Because of you. He likes being with you.

“I don’t understand you.” You reach for his hand again, and he allows it. Because really, at this point, what does it matter if it happens once or twice or a dozen times? He’s already crossed a line with you he never should have.

“Why do you fight yourself so much?” Your voice is quiet.

Because that hand you’re holding so gently has done terrible things. Because there is so little keeping me from doing what I want, from tearing right through this fragile barrier between us.

Those are the real answers, but he can’t tell you that. So he simply says “Because.” Which is no answer at all. He stares at your still joined fingers. “It’s not a rejection based on your merit as a person. You deserve to know that.”

“Is it because we work together?”

“Well, that’s a definite drawback. Workplace relationships are never a good idea.”

“The age gap?”

“Are you calling me old again?”

“Maybe.” A small smile.

“That’s another concern. But that’s not the main reason.”

You shift in your seat, turning your body more to his. “What is the main reason?”

“I can’t tell you that. Not any differently than I already have.”

“But you do like me.”

“You’re…tolerable, at times.”

“Tolerable.”

“Yes, I like you,” he admits, his voice tight. His gaze shifts to the windshield. It’s too difficult to look at you. To see that hope. That desire he’s certain is mirrored on his own features.

You reach for his glasses, slipping them free before he can stop you. You carefully fold them and tuck your arm behind your back. You know what you’re doing. He knows it, too. Playing along. Leaning. Grasping. Tugging the gold framed lenses free. Your face tips up. That ripe mouth he wants to defile within reach. So close. Just the slightest movement would bring his lips to yours. Touching you. Tasting you. The barest little shift is all that’s required.

He leans back, away from you. “You should go inside and soak your feet and get some rest. I’ll see you Monday.” Staring very hard at nothing. It’s a cold dismissal. Contrasting so starkly from the warmth stoked inside of him. He heaves a shuddering sigh when you finally exit his car. Watching your retreating figure. How much he wants to chase after you. Drag you against him. Surrender.

And you would, too. He knows you’d succumb to him. Do whatever he wanted.

If only he’d ask.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #dividers credit @saradika-graphics

64 notes · View notes

tokio-motel · 8 months

Note

yo idk if this will send cuz im at school but could i order erm🤓 headcannons with tokio hotel(separately) with a bf who literally cannot handle yelling or arguments between them like for example in an argument reader was already holding in tears and he was trying to keep his voice low as well but then (insert tokio hotel member) raises there voice and starts crying or smth but still tries to keep talking cuz he REALLY does not want to make them feel bad

this is based off of me but i swear im not a crybaby😩

TOKIO HOTEL X MALE READER: ARGUMENTS

nah bro that's crazy cuz I relate to this sm omg 💀

BILL:

・Bill hates arguing, but once he's in the mindset he defends himself alot.

・Kinda bad at taking signs, like if your voice hitches slightly or if you sniffle.

・He doesn't really notice it when he raises his voice

・Ig it's a singer thing 🤷🏻

・Once he sees you kinda freeze up and your eye get glossy he wants to smack himself.

・His heart shatters as he watches the tears start to overflow.

・If you continue talking he just kinda looks at you, stilling his movements.

・His eyes start to get glossed over too

・If you shake when you cry he almost immediately tries to pull you into a hug.

・If you don't wanna talk to him at the moment he just comes by later with some of your favorite treats and sits by you

・Kisses your forehead over and over, running his fingers through your hair as he repeatedly apologises.

・Cuddles you throughout the rest of the day 🤗

TOM:

・I write Tom as a 'fluffy' person but irl he's so different...

・He gets extremely defensive and can talk in arguments for hours.

・Like Bill he's not the best at reading signs since he so caught up in his own emotions.

・He doesn't understand why your being so quiet, probably calls you out.

・This is the point I the argument where he reaches his peak, starting to raise his voice louder and louder.

・If you take a shaky breath and wipe away a tear in your eye or if your eyes get glossy he just kinda pauses.

・Looks at you for a minute before inhaling deeply.

・Stays silent for a second before he speaks in a quieter tone.

・If you keep talking he does aswell, but he still keeps a soft tone.

・He's kinda bad at apologizing so he doesn't know what to do

・Mutters a small 'Sorry.'

・Sheepishly rubs his neck, avoiding eye contact. After apologizing he prob walks away.

・Later after he relaxes himself he comes up to you and actually gives a sincere apology that he probably spent 30 minutes rehearsing. Take your hand in his as he sits next to you.

GEORG:

・Not as aggressive as Tom, but still gets defensive

・He's better at noticing signs, like if you shake or your voice cracks slightly he tries to ease himself and calm down.

・He takes deep breathes as he tries to ease himself and tone of voice but it goes up without him realising.

・Guess what he does next....... Raises his voice!!! 😱😱

・Once he does this it stays like that for a few minutes.

・At a certain point you get emotional and let out a soft sob.

・If you try to cover it up and keep talking he doesn't respond, just staring at you.

・Eyes flicker back and forth from yours.

・Takes another deep breath before he suggests you both calm down, sit, and talk about it.

・He tries to understand your side of the argument and listen to you.

・After your talk he suggests watching a movie or something to ease your minds.

GUSTAV:

・Bro hates arguing. Like he tries to avoid it at all costs.

・Like normally you guys just talk it out and everythings ok 😍

・not today

・It must be a pretty serious topic for him to get so worked up

・Almost never raises his voice at you, so this was definitely a shocker.

・If he screams/raises his voice he immediately pauses after, watching the emotion on your face turn into sadness.

・If you start to cry he takes a shaky breath, looking at you with concern.

・Hes so mad at himself that if you continue to talk he doesn't process it, just looks at your broken expression.

・Like Georg he asks to talk it out in a quiet voice after your done.

・Holds you close to him, hugging you as he apologizes. Giving kisses to your cheeks and wiping away tears.

・He can't look at himself in the mirror for a good two days.

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quicktosimp · 3 months

Text

Sit, Stay, Good Boy

Summary: Aonung is acting like a brat again; it seems he forgot his last lesson.

Here's a visual of the genitalia: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53553106

Aonung/Na'vi!Sully!Reader

Warnings: 18+, Impact play, Cock Torture, Dom!Reader, Sub!Aonung, Humiliation, Degradation, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Alien Genitalia

“Damit!”

Turning my head, I look over and see Lo’ak; he was holding his nose, blood poured through his fingers.

“Lo’ak, are you okay?” I scrambled to my little brother, pulling his hands away so I could assess the damage.

“What happened this time?” Kiri asked, following closely.

“Ma’Itan!” We both parted for Sa’nu as she pulled Lo’ak further into our marui.

Lo’ak didn’t fight Sa’nu as he tried to wave us off, “I’m fine. Fishlips is in a mood today, and apparently, I got in his way,” His voice mumbled by his hand.

Sa’nu managed to peel his hand away, showing us the start of purple bleeding from the bridge of his nose and into the corner of his left eye, and it is already swelling shut. Rage flashed through me. This bastard targets my brother whenever he’s in a mood, and I am sick of it.

“That cursed boy keeps doing this! I do not know why Jake will not take these matters to the Olo’eyktan, but if he doesn’t, I will deal with your father myself,” Sa’nu grumbled as she weaved through the salves and ointments on in the rafters.

“It is alright, Sa’nu. Aonung is mostly on good terms with me. Let me see if I can get to the root of this. It would be better to handle this ourselves than to disrupt the Olo’eyktan,” I explained softly.

Neteyam has always been known as a strong leader, but as his twin, I was meant to be the soft healer, but it wasn’t underappreciated when it turned out I was an excellent diplomat. My calm demeanor has always been good when I have to butt into things.

Sa’nu frowned, her brow creasing with worry, but it was Lo’ak who spoke first, “Bad idea, Sis, he’s already hit one of us today. I don’t want you to be next.”

“Ma’Ite, I agree with Lo’ak. The Olo’eyktan’s son has already struck your brother today; I cannot promise that I will be able to handle this rationally if another one of my children were to be harmed,” Sa’nu explained worryingly.

I walked over and hugged her, “It will be alright, Sa’nu. Aonung has done nothing more than send barbed words my way. I do not think Aonung is barbaric enough to lay a hand on me,” I was soft but firm in my reasoning.

I could feel Sa’nu’s sigh against my braids as he hugged me back, “You are far too stubborn. Even if I told you not to, you would still go and meet him.” She pulled away, holding me in her outstretched arms, “But you will take something for your protection,” Her words were final.

I smiled and nodded my head, “Of course, Sa’nu.”

“I still don’t like it, but if Fishlips does anything, make sure you get him good, Sis,” Lo’ak grumbled.

Sa’nu sapped her head at Lo’ak, “You will do well not to antagonize him; if I find out that these brawls have all been started by you, not even Eywa will be able to find you,” Her words were harsh, but her eyes betray her concern.

Using the distraction Lo’ak provided, I slipped away, all the while grabbing my weapon. It is my favorite, made of braided pa’li hair that is connected to a hand-carved wooden handle. I spent hours carving and painting it to my liking. Sempu said that it was similar to a tawtute weapon called a whip. I love it nonetheless. I use it for many things, such as dancing and reaching for things. I even used it to grab onto branches out of my reach and swing through the forest with it. But for now, it will have a different purpose.

I walk the sandy beach of Awa'atlu. Many others wave at me, and I wave back. As the calm Sully who helps and plays with the children, I was accepted quickly along with Tuk. Others looked on, seeing me as friendly and relaxed. Not one of them knew that I was on a mission. And not one could comprehend that the following actions could be my own.

I walked further away from the village to a quiet, isolated spot. Forgotten by many, but it is a place that I know Aonung visits when he’s upset. Looking around, Aonung was nowhere to be found, so I settled into some of the rocks nearby and waited.

It wasn’t long until I heard the sound of feet on the sand. Peaking around, I see Aonung, his face marred by this anger. To others, his face would bring fear, but I felt nothing but righteous anger for what he did to my baby brother, but I held those emotions under a tight, calm facade, and I will not budge from it.

Unknowing of my presence, Aonung walked by my hiding place, and I struck. Using my whip, I wrapped the length of it around his ankle and pulled. Aonung quickly fell, his face now buried in the sand. As he recovered, he spun around, snarling until he saw my face. His face turned to one of fear as his ears pinned back, and his tail became stiff.

“Please, I’m so-”

“Shut up, I didn’t say you could speak,” I snapped at him, my face completely cold.

Aonung audibly shut his mouth quickly as he looked up at me, waiting for my next move.

“Now sit pretty,” I commanded him.

Aonung moved into the proper position, on his knees, legs spread, ankles touching, arms behind his back, and his chest pushed out.

“You will nod your head yes or no to my questions, understand?” I questioned blankly.

Aonung quickly nodded his head, afraid of angering me anymore.

“Did you hit Lo’ak?” I asked him, already knowing the answer.

Hesitantly, he nodded his head yes.

“Did you approach Lo’ak first?”

Again, he nodded an affirmative.

“Did Lo’ak antagonize you first?” Knowing that Lo’ak would have retaliated, I love my brother, but he’s stupid.

Slowly, he shook his head.

“I see. Last question: did you strike first?”

Aonung’s eyes widened as he stared up at me. I waited for his response, giving him the time to answer. And he did, slowly nodding his head, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re being a good boy for me and telling the truth, but that doesn’t excuse your actions. You sought a fight, and you struck my brother unprompted,” I wrap the length of my whip into a coil and hold it out so the handle is facing Aonung, “Tell me, how many lashes do you think you deserve?”

Aonung leans in and kisses the handle before muttering, “25.”

I sat and looked at him stonily, not allowing him to see how shocked I was. 25 is not a number I would have thought of, with my hand maybe, but with my whip, absolutely not.

I brought the whip under his chin, lifting it up into an uncomfortable angle, “You really are trying to be a good boy for me. But I will not accept your ridiculous request. I will just have to think of something."

I circle around him, watching his reactions. Aonung sitting in his proper position, not moving a muscle. Thinking about a suitable punishment. This has been an ongoing problem; thus, the punishment must reflect that. But 25 lashes with my whip would cause far too much damage. It would leave him bloody and raw. But if it was over several days…

“Stand,” My voice was firm.

Aonung stood quickly, his arms still behind his back and his feet shoulder-width apart. I trailed my fingertips across his shoulder blades and down his back. While mostly gone, there are traces of my previous marks, sealing my theory.

“I’ve come to notice you act out every time you’re almost healed. So, to save my sanity and my brother's face, we will be working on a new routine. Every night just after eclipse, you will join me here and will take five lashes or 15 spanks. This will continue until I can trust you to behave yourself,” I back up and point to the rocky wall, “Remove your tewng and assume the position.”

Aonung quickly obeys, untying the straps of his tewng and folding it neatly before he walks over, kneeling in front of the rocky wall and placing his hands high on the wall, giving me the perfect angle for his back.

I readied myself behind him, unrolling my whip, “For tonight, I will add five additional lashes for the stunt you pulled today. You will face a total of ten lashes tonight. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Sumtsyìp,” Aonung responded dutifully.

“Good, now count,” With that, I raised my arm and cracked the whip.

The resounding sound was loud as the braided pa’li hairs met his skin.

“One,” Aonung said, attempting to sound unbothered.

I raised my hand again and struck the whip.

The muscles of Aonung’s back flexed as he gritted out, “Two.”

Once more, I raised my hand, but I flicked it twice this time, sending two lashes back to back.

“Three, four!” Aonung’s voice was louder as he fought to stay in place.

I quickly laid one more on his back before he could catch his breath.

Aonung moaned as he stuttered out, “Five!”

I walked closer to Aonung, needing to asses the physical damage and his mental state before continuing. Upon closer inspection, Aonung’s back had five red lines crisscrossing along the back, raised but not broken. Aonung heaved in a breath, his chest stuttering. I grabbed his chin, making him face me, and the sight broke my heart. Tears were streaming down his face as he sucked in sobs. I caressed his face as I brought my lips to his in a tender kiss.

“You’re being so good to me, Aonung,” I gave him gentle praise, “You don’t have to worry about anything, just let me take care of you,” I kissed him sweetly again, soft but passionate, before I pulled away, “Are you good to continue?” I questioned him, needing to know before I continued.

“Ye-yes, I I’m good,” Aonung stuttered out, his voice low.

I caressed his face one last time before I backed up, assuming my previous position, “Five more to go.”

I raise my arm higher, aiming for untouched skin, flicking my wrist so it lands across his upper back.

“Eywa! Six!” Aonung’s voice was high and whiny, making me wonder about his intentions.

Deciding to test my theory, I aimed lower, down near the tailbone; a quick flick and there was a new mark.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Seven!” He moaned, rolling his hips.

I couldn’t stop the giggle that left my lips, “Is my naughty boy acting like a slut?” I asked him.

“I’m sorry, Sumtsyìp, I didn’t mean to,” Aonung tried to apologize.

“Don’t worry slut, I’ll take care of it after,” I slipped back into my unfeeling roll with ease, quickly aiming for his back twice.

“Shit! Fuck,” He moaned, making my cunt throb, “Eight! Nine!” He remembered to count.

“Good boy, I almost had to give you more,” I praised coldly, “Now turn around and face me, hands behind your head,” My instructions were clear.

On his knees, he slowly turned to face me, his arms behind his head, chest pushed out. Aonung’s pretty little slit housing his sex organs was relaxed, the tip of his cock peeking out.

“You really are my little slut, but don’t worry. I’m here to take care of you; I always am,” I said softly before quickly whipping across his slit.

Aonung’s eyes went wide as he knelt over, his face in the sand, as he gasped for breath. His legs shook, but that didn’t stop his hips from rolling. I watched him with amusement, waiting for him to count, but it seemed that while lost in his sea pain and pleasure, he forgot. While thinking about how I was going to punish him for miss counting, I expected the lashes on his back. Raised, and would leave bruises, but no slit skin, and not a drop of blood. Absolutely beautiful.

“Sit up,” I demanded.

Slowly and shakily, he does. Leaning back up on his knees, I could see now that his cock had slipped out, hard and covered in sand.

I sneered down at it and toed it with my foot, “That thing is going nowhere near me, covered in sand. But if you must, you can take care of it yourself.”

Aonung looked at me as if I was Eywa herself, “Thank you, Sumtsyìp,” And his hand drifted to his cock, the base of his cock is the same light blue as his skin, lightening into a pretty baby purple at the tapered tip of his cock; the shaft is covered in spines similar to that of his kuru. Aonung started at the base, gripping it firmly before slowly moving upward, the spines flexing and bending under his touch, then moving back down, away from the tip, which I had struck.

“Oh fuck,” He moaned breathlessly, his head tilted back.

His mouth opened wide as he licked his lips, making me eager for more. So, I closed the distance between us and threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling him to my relaxed slit. I didn’t even have to ask before Aonung latched on; his free hand came up and wrapped around my hip, holding me in place. All the while swiping his tongue across my slit. The wet muscle was eager to enter into me.

“Such a good boy,” I growled, pulling his hair more, giving me a whimper in return.

Always crafty with his tongue, Aonung pushed through with ease, wiggling his tongue around my insides. I moaned as I rolled my hips into his face, covering him with my slick. Thank Eywa Aonung doesn’t have a gag reflex; his long tongue is able to slide deep inside me while my inner tendrils wrap around his tongue and trail into his mouth. My tendrils wanted to lock him inside me, thinking that it was a mating. Each wiggle and thrust of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure through my body.

“Oh, that’s my good fucking slut,” I groaned.

I could feel Aonung’s hand working underneath me and the moans that traveled through my core. I looked deep into Aonung’s eyes, his big blue orbs filled with lust, love, and devotion, as he pleased me, and I knew I would give him the world in return.

“Cum for me, Nung,” I ordered softly.

Aonung’s eyes widened as his body shook, his hips thrusting erratically. His spurts of cum landed on my leg and foot. By Eywa, his moans and deep vibrations are mixed with the sounds of his whines, feeling like a tawtute vibrator but playing my favorite song.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Nung,” I rolled my moaned as I came. I rolled my hips as I rode my high. My thighs shook as Aonung continued to pleasure me. All I could think about was his tongue and sparks of pleasure that flowed through my body as I gasped for air.

“Such a good boy, such a good fucking boy for me. My slut, no one else's,” I growled as I ripped him away from

my slit, bringing his face to mine.

“Yours, always and forever yours,” He whispered reverently, his eyes telling the truth.

No matter how many bumps we encounter, we will always have each other.

Taglist: @loakstahni

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#aonung x female reader #avatar #avatar way of water #atwow #smut #avatar the way of water #aonung #avatar twow #avatar 2022 #aonung x y/n #aonung x you #aonung x reader #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung #ao'nung smut #ao'nung x you #ao'nung x reader

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bengiyo · 5 months

Text

Last Twilight Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week, Mhok took Day out of the house to handle his withdrawal from university. The dean only allowed a temporary pause, encouraging Day not to give up on schooling or his future. While at school, Mhok made Day take him around a bit, but also helped shield him from encountering some of his friends before he was ready. Later, they went to a busy market to search for a book Day wanted on what was absolutely a date. Unfortunately, Mhok lost focus at one point and started fighting Porjai’s fiancé when he realized ole boy was stepping out on her. Mhok managed to find Day through the help of the hot pink shirt they had bought earlier, and then went home to Day’s worried family. The mom tried to fire Mhok, but Day stepped in and refused to let Mhok go.

“Do you even know how to flirt? I bet you don’t,” into Mhok putting the bowl of jasmine flowers in front of his nose. You both are fooling no one.

I like that Mhok is still taking Day out on trips, and I’m glad we’re using the He’s Coming to Me car.

Oh no, the intentionally bad singing. I almost never have to mute the singing, but did so here.

I love the dynamic between Porjai and Mhok. We almost never get to see exes with a functional friendship. That Mhok will likely end up with Day, and projecting a bit because of Namtam, we have bisexual exes with a good friendship. That feels special.

Day seems insistent about this friend thing, and it clearly touches Mhok.

Look at Day trying to get some details on Mhok by calling him Porjai’s boyfriend. He’s clever, but so is Porjai.

I’m always happy to see Film. I like this character already. She’s got a little bit of a chip on her shoulder that makes her seem tough.

I’m glad Day’s sense of humor has returned and he can tease Gee. That’s a good sign.

I like the show introducing new social challenges for Day every time he steps out a little bit to do something again. Telling Gee led to going to the gym, which led to an invite to a team event, and now he’s been faced with a fan.

I am very much looking forward to Day meeting August again.

Sea really has a great smile. He’s grown a lot as a performer since Vice Versa.

I also won first and second place trophies in national competitions. I feel for Day here.

I feel like I saw a recipe for this soup earlier today but cannot recall the name now.

This soft hands scene is GAY as hell!!

Mhok and Keng about to be like Kim and Sheego: ON SIGHT.

SHE’S PREGNANT!!

Did the badminton team host their goodbye party at a gay club??

Okay, I like Khaw asking Day about porn. That’s probably dude behavior. Quickly communicates the past relationship and their attempts to be more comfortable with each other.

Mhok really is so tactful when it comes to Day. Showing up in the bathroom and clearing up that social situation instantly was so well done.

No, Day, please don’t make Mhok sing again. I’m enjoying the flirting enough!

I fully expected Mhok to sing the romantic song from the car and was not wrong. Oh, Aof.

I wonder how badly Day and August parted that he was so nervous about running into him today.

Just throw him into bed sweaty and in his outside clothes??

Oh, whew, we’re making Day change at least.

Mm, I’m feeling emotional about Day trying to privately see Mhok’s face and not give himself away.

Yep. Mhok was in prison. He’s definitely a light sleeper, and definitely knew what as happening.

Oh, hell yeah! August shows up next week!

This really is one of my favorite shows airing right now. Aof has a strong handle on the pacing of relationships, and he loves when relationships work towards emotional closeness after another boundary is crossed.

#last twilight #last twilight the series #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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utilitycaster · 5 months

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As a fellow DM, weren't you at least a little irritated of how Matt handled the shard situation? He once was so open and receptive when it came down to a players choice influencing the campaign, but now he let Tal roll and even after he succeeded he was like "nope, not gonna happen".

Nope!

It was, and I cannot stress this enough, really clear this was a terrible fucking idea. I know a lot of people started to nitpick how Matt said this "might" and "may" shatter Ashton instead of "definitely will", but like...as I said before, as someone with a severe allergy, I don't eat foods that say "may contain peanuts"; the idea that it was a massive risk was abundantly clear, and frankly the fact that in-world Ashton went “well, I’m built different” instead of “hmmm maybe I shouldn’t do Thing That ‘Might’ Make Me Explode” is highly relevant to the discussion. It's no different to me from how DMs (myself included) will often say "are you sure?" to mean "hey pal, this is a really bad idea FYI.” The successful saves mean “this did not kill you permanently.”

I also strongly suspect that Matt and Taliesin discussed this because Taliesin seemed pretty unsurprised by the top of the episode when Ashton’s Con score was reduced. I don’t know for sure - I’m hoping either Matt or Taliesin will be on the next 4SD to talk about it - but that’s the impression I got. If I had to guess I would say it was a choice between “the powers are somewhat nerfed because you already have a shard in you,” or “hey do you want the opportunity to do a much needed dramatic breakdown,” and I know which one I’d take. I could be wrong, but if this was the case, it would be a very thoughtful way to DM this.

Setting aside any DM-ing experience: I’m interested intellectually in what might have happened had Ashton successfully absorbed the shard, but also, I have watched that first half conversation literally every day since it aired except today, because I am on a train and my internet is unreliable and it’s not out as a podcast yet. I’m an episode 2x72 and C1 Feywild arc girl. I would like to see my favorite character have a complete breakdown at some point in the campaign. This is probably my favorite episode of C3 so far. I think this makes for a far, far superior story than the alternative and is not only giving a much needed shock to the Bells Hells character dynamics on the whole, but is also opening up some room for another character to take the shard and, now, for cool things to happen during the Feywild retreat. If Delilah eats the shard? If Fearne learns some deep secrets? If Chetney makes a deal with Morri? That is going to be because Ashton was rejected by the shard, and I’m far more fascinated by those possibilities than “Ashton gets super powerful, learns nothing.”

To that point: I know as always that it’s hard to convey tone via the written word on anon, but this feels frustrated toward the campaign in general, and while I do have my thoughts about the railroading earlier on, there’s actually only a few points where I really feel Bells Hells were outright shut down and honestly they were relatively minor (I do not personally mind the solstice episode cut scenes; that feels right for an event of that magnitude). I think it’s valid to feel that way, but I guess the best way to put it is that if you’re frustrated on the whole this feels like an odd place to vent it, and if you’re mad because Ashton is also your favorite character, I am interested in my favorite characters in part because of their development and their dynamics with others in the party. I am not here to watch the Ashton Is Super Cool And Everything Works Out Well For Them show; I’m here to watch the Ashton Goes Through It show.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag

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axailslink · 1 year

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Are You Ready?

Shuri x FEM reader

Summary: you find yourself falling in love with the princess I mean how could you not? She's gorgeous and smart. The princess thinks you're bullshitting and has been pushing away her feelings in avoidance of getting hurt. She's afraid you'll run in fear of commitment.

Shuri stands in front of you looking at your wrapped sprained knee you could see the way she wanted to say so many things but she stays to herself. "I'm being careful" you spit out to cut the tension currently suffocating you in the room. "Careful would mean you wouldn't be in my lab you are the most clumsy Dora milaje member I know" you smile so big as if you were taking a family picture but she didn't return it causing you to groan. "Oh c'mon it's nothing but a sprang" you shrug Shuri has such a big heart she cares for everyone but it squeezes your heart knowing she cares for you just a bit more. "What if it's not just a sprang next time what if next time you're bleeding out on my table?" You jump down from the lab table and look up at her.

"Shuri I need you to stop caring so much you know it hurts knowing it's not in the way that I want" she sighs and rolls her eyes "this again?" Shuri looks frantically between both of your eyes trying to read the truth as if it's written on a book in your beautiful alluring eyes but this only causes your breath to falter as you look at her eyes in return. The space between you two continuously grows small you want to pull away but it seems so alluring as if magnets were pulling you two together. "Shuri I cannot handle another rejection from you" she lets out a deep breath that fans against your lips "then you should pull away" you grab her shoulders and at this moment you wish you would stop but you can't help yourself it was everything about her you just want her to feel as loved as you do.

Your hands climb their way up to her face and she looks as if she's on the verge of tears eyes glassed over and squinted trying to keep them at bay. "If you want me to stop I will" she says nothing because in truth she knows she deserves this she deserves to be loved to be happy especially after everything she's been through but she can't help but punish herself but while doing so she's also punishing you for loving her. "God damnit Shuri just say you want this too please your silence is deafening" Her body noticeably tenses when you say those words you lean up quickly peck her lips expecting this to be the last time. You couldn't keep doing this you refused to keep hurting yourself until she was ready for you. "Thanks for nothing" you grab your spear and leave the lab leaving Shuri alone she hits the glass table next to herself with more force than intended and winces as she waves her hand.

You meet with Okoye as you leave the lab and you immediately straighten up you couldn't have her thinking you're distracted even though you are very much distracted. "I'll be gone on a mission today you'll be sparring with Shuri as replacement" you almost visibly groan no matter how subtle your change in body language was she noticed "is that a problem?" You look at her with pleading eyes. "Yes... Maybe... Sort of? Me and Shuri aren't on good terms right now I'm pretty sure she doesn't even want me sparring because of my leg" Okoye that little evil smirk of hers "hm I don't think so she requested you and I mean right now you should stay here anyways wouldn't want a weakling to slow us down" you furrow your brows completing passing the main part of of her words and going straight to "weakling." "Weakling? I'm one of the only ones who can beat Shuri in fist fighting" Okoye nods "indeed you are but you're also reckless and distracted you always lose footing around her it's like you enjoy being under her foot." Damn you really were way more than down bad for her you were in love. "General...? Why didn't anyone tell me I was in love with Shuri?" Okoye grabs her spear and stays silent "you two are young. People shouldn't interfere in what they know nothing of" she palms your shoulder and makes her leave with the others.

You knew you took a liking to her but you didn't think you loved her you just stand still for a moment letting it all wash over you. What was your next move? You can't go see her with this realization you can't your mind will be everywhere except training.

You eventually decide not to go and embarrass yourself more you can't handle a lot of emotions right now you need to stay level headed for when you heal and can start your missions again.

The shower feels amazing on your back after such a confusing day it's like the cup of ice that makes it cool down just for a bit.

An abrupt banging causes you to jump out of the shower grab your towel and spear "the day just keeps getting longer" you wrap yourself in the towel and open the door just ajar and peek through the visitor pushes past you so fast your eyes can't make them out only until you hear her voice "you don't show up to training suddenly!?" You plop your back against the door and cross your arms over your chest. "Who the fuck you think you yelling at? This is my private space." She's taken back by your change in tone you're always so soft spoken with her even when you're upset.

Shuri sighs into her hands"I didn't mean to yell I just feel like I need to get my point across" "you can do that without yelling at me Shuri the queen of Wakanda when... when are you going to have time for a queen of your own? Hm I've showed time and time again just how much I love you just how much I'd give for you yet you do not reciprocate if I am not what you want just say it please because you are not the only woman in line." Shuri entraps you in the door of both of her hands beside your head "you are what I want but are you ready for what comes after sleeping with me?" She says letting one of her hands drop and loosen up your towel "I uhm" you swallow thickly as her hand travels under the loose towel now running up your thigh "are you ready to be my queen? My love my everything?" You choke on your words before you can even get them out "if not tell me now because being mine takes a lot of commitment" she says snatching the towel from around you and letting it pool to the floor "after four years of pinning of course." You gently pull her closer to you by her shirt and peck her lips "just don't run because I will find you" she smiles and glances at your spear "I know you will because you're one of the only women who can beat me in a fist fight" you groan embarrassed from what you told Okoye earlier "For her to be such a great general she talks a lot." Shuri laughs and agrees.

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herzgeist-writes · 6 months

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Hii Emi! It's me again and if you're up to i have another request! Obv a Law x yn where yn joined the heart pirates only two months ago and she is pretty shy and always worried to not be helpful to the crew. Law takes pity out of her of how cute she looks but what hits his heart is how kind and gentle this girl is and that makes Law slightly worried because he knows something is different and he cannot let himself fall in love because he needs to avenge Corazon

Pairing: Law x Cute fem!reader | Word count: 1.9k | Warnings: None

Synopsis: Welcome aboard the Polar Tang, (Y/n)! The Heart pirates took you in with open arms without regret to this day. You are one of the kindest and most gentle people the crew ever faced, growing fond of your sweet and humble behaviour. Over time, Law takes notice of your modesty and fights against his own emotions you awaken in him, before they become too much to handle. Is a dark and sinister man such as him actually able to develop romantic feelings? He highly doubts it. Yet so he thought.

A/N: Kurage! Of course I'm up for it! It's Law we're talking about ఌ Avast, another fluffy OneShot, thank you for the request dear! (Sorry it took a bit longer, I was on holiday) Hope you like it!

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

„Hey (Y/n), could you grab me the tool kit from the boilers below? I must‘ve forgotten it down there.“ - „Sure thing Uni!“, as one of the newest crew members of the Heart pirates, you‘re highly determined to be of support wherever you‘re able.

Since two months aboard the Polar Tang, you learned rather quickly how kind and contributory Trafalgar‘s bunch is. Safe to say, you‘ve grown fond of them and vice versa.

They appreciate your zeal, though you do not possess the ability or skill to know the ropes around the submarine, so the mechanics assign you to simple tasks.

Besides sweating in the sub‘s belly, doing mechanical works, kitchen and laundry duty are also a great way to warm up to the general feel of being part of a crew.

After a quite dramatic rescue, where Law saved you from slave drivers, you can‘t rid the sentiment of the Surgeon of Death behaving hostile towards you.

Of course he is known for his aloof and petulant manner, but you start to recognise certain differencies in his conversations between you compared to other members.

If you ever talk to eachother that is, for it being a rare occasion. It honestly is a shame. There is still so much you want to say, so much you want to ask, yet he avoids you as soon as you enter the frame, walking a B-line to his office.

Don't get him wrong though, Law sees you, oh and how he does. The way you talk, how you behave and hold yourself. Not just captivated by your sweet and adorable appearance, it is your whole demeanor, your big heart he had the chance to behold the past two months.

This is bad, beyond grave. There is no way he actually likes yo-

Absolutely not. Everytime he passes by you, these thoughts intrude his very being, it is then where he's ought to better ignore or run from those feelings, before anything unpredictable happens. Or did it happen already?

To you, the question still remains, have you done something wrong? Aren’t you working hard enough? Whatever it is, you struggle to find the reason behind his mysterious attitude. Be that as it may, you make it your goal to reach your Captain with hard work, rather than straight up walking up to him and find a conversation.

And today is one of those days where you can prove it, to earn your superior’s attention. The Polar Tang docked at an abandoned isle floating somewhere among the waters of the Grand Line. To Law’s calculations, there is an estimated poneglyph hiding on this island. Thus the Heart pirates prepare for a day out in the field, exploring the jungles and noting everything suspicious or fascinating regarding the void century’s history.

At the coast, everybody gathers before proceeding into the thicket. The Captain calls out: “Keep your baby snail transponders ready at all times. If you detect anything remarkable, give me a call immediately.” All confirm his command with a booming ‘Aye’ and thrust their fists into the air, to commence the expedition in brimming motivation. Split up in parties, the groups divide and go seperate ways for a more efficient search.

You follow one team and hold out for mystery. The snail in your hands oogles you, it’s eyes slightly uncanny and bizarre. Yet, the resemblece to Law is immaculate. The already mentioned eyes faintly squinted in an exhausted manner, with dark circles underneath, the white fluffy hat and of course the goatee. It’s almost too accurate. Concentrating on the path before you, you take a good look around.

But to your foolhardy day dreaming, you now walk alone. Where are the others? In panic your gaze scans the area, worried you might not even find your way back to the Polar Tang. How long were you in dream land, (Y/n)? Anyway, you are on a quest, therefore you are tremendously firm about your decision to make your Captain proud.

May sound easier than done, for you tread through the dark and sinister parts of the jungle, feeling cold and uneasy as you hear an alarming rustling very near you. So you pick up the pace, close to running through the lush green thicket, almost toppling over your own feet. Anxiety fuels you with energy, motivating you to rush further into the forest’s heart.

The sun’s rays fade the deeper you go and finally you come to a stop, even unable to see your own hand before you. “Shit, where am I?”, you utter lowly to yourself, scared you might have ran a tad bit too far. A sharp and stinging spark in the distance blinds you. Curiosity gets the better of you, now following the only source of light.

Slowly approaching the inexplicable in front of you, the blinding fortunately ceased and you recognise a golden orb with strange embellishment, if you wouldn't know any better it looks close to a map, deeply engraved into the material.

Like a moth to the flame, you hold out your hand to grasp the devious object. However, before you can sling your fingers around it, the ball disappears and gets replaced with: "A rock? What the-" - "Don't just randomly grab a possible relic, (Y/n)-ya . ."

Surprised, you let off a small squeak and immediately turn around to find yourself cowering away from none other than your Captain, who's brows furrow at you in annoyance.

With the orb in hand, he steps even closer to you, condescendence lifting his gaze as he rumbles: "And by the by, you're supposed to be with the others."

"I lost track of them, so I went on my own.", explaining yourself with an ever growing pout, your shoulders droop in ebarrassment. Quick to throw another question, a frown pushes the corners of Law's lips down: "Why did you run further into the jungle so absentmindedly? You should have called me."

In protest, you point out that your mindless flight response wasn't for naught, implying to show Law your capability by finding this golden ball, but he doesn't give in regarding that matter. All he deftly oversees and only tells you off.

Whose fault was it though? Hiding in the bushes, observing helpless and frightened little you, not able to stay quiet? Trafalgar Law sure doesn't fit the role as a ninja, at least not today.

"Listen (Y/n)-ya, a woman like you can't just wander around in unknown territory, practically diving into danger.", he lectures you with a sour tone in his raspy voice.

Shit, is what goes through Law's mind, as he realises what slipped out of him. Aware how to misunderstand his haughty opinion, he attempts to keep it together. It is incredibely difficult for him to stay focused around you. Why? Oh how he wishes he could just rush back to his office.

Something bugs you, why did he describe you as 'a woman like you'? Thoughts spin in your head and you twiddle your thumbs and twirl a strand of your hair in insecurity. Thus you muster up the courage to ask for the Captain to clarify what he means by that bold statement.

How much it takes out of him to keep his poise. Could you stop playing with this poor man's emotions? They're barely existant in the first place and you decide to pull his heart strings like that?

Indifferent as possible, Law blinks, time seemingly slowing down around you, for he takes a felt like eternity to answer. And finally he clears it up, shifting nervously in place: "Isn't it obvious? You are . . fragile, delicate even and new to piracy. Don't take life as a pirate too lightly, that is all I'm trying to say."

In strain, you contain yourself not to snap at your superior, so you out your concern: "Are you saying I'm not capable?" - "That's not what I said. I simply indicated, that you are too much of an amateur and could get seriously hurt, if you lack the vigilance. Other pirates might take advantage of your kindness and . ."

The Captain stops mid sentence, choking on a word that almost escaped his oddly dry lips. You tilt your head in curiosity: "And?"

A sweat drop builds on his temple. It just wouldn't cross his mind, why you are being so troublesome? Shaking his head infuriatingly, he mumbles: "N-Nothing. Let's just go."

Abruptly grabbing your hand, he pulls you along, leading you out of the dark parts of the jungle. Muttering his dissatisfaction and curses in disbelief, he stops, the both of you returned to the stone path.

Though his slender hands seem rough and calloused, you are surprised by the gentle and warm touch of his skin. Even after all those tough battles he fought, all the operations he performed, his digits carefully intertwine with yours, almost scared to crush you.

So he turns around to face you and commands you harshly: "Go back to the sub, just follow back this way and you'll be there in no time." - "Aye, Captain."

Law detects a tinge of shame and disappointment in your expression. How come his heart cannot stop beating out of his chest, as he speaks: "Before you go . . you . . did a good job, finding this artifact, it's a rather important object at that. So, well done."

Did your hearing falter? Your Captain just praised you! Out of joy you flash him a smile, showing him gratitude with a subtle nod and a small hum.

The brim of Law's hat casts a shadow over his face, making it impossible for you to see his blush that is being withheld from you.

After a good minute, you two come to realise, that you are still holding hands. "Umm, Captain? Could you-", you point out with a shy chuckle and Law basically yanks his arm away in a rash move, almost a tad bit too obvious, even to you.

In irk, he shoos you: "Just go already! I have other things I must attend to!" With his jaw tensing by the sight of you playfully rolling your eyes and going about your way, he clicks his tongue and continues the path ahead of him.

One last look over his shoulder, glancing at your delicate frame in the distance, once more the beat of his heart waivers. Truly, there is a certain appeal to you he wishes to familiarise further, nevertheless, he must not.

After all, Law has a goal, his mind is set, determined to avenge Corazon. It takes his all to commit to this plan, hence there is no space . . for love? Confliction restricts the Surgeon of Death's tunnel vision, professionalism slowly but surely fading by your 'intrusion'.

He must admit, he's fighting the urge to give in to your sweetness, surrender to his own emotions towards you. You peak his interest, though to his momentary disapproval.

But what if he is able to fulfill his wish? When the world finally reaches it's well deserved state of peace and freedom. Will he earn your attention, your affection?

What if . .

#one piece #one piece law #trafalgar one piece #law x female reader #law x fem!reader #law x y/n #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic fluff #one piece request #one piece requests #Sweet Surrender

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jeonghanspookie · 9 months

Text

The Truck Schedule

After the bird 'incident' that occurred yesterday, a team meeting had to be held.

All the team members in the building gathered around in a circle at the very center of the store. In the middle of the circle was Minghao.

As the HR rep, he had to be the one to call this very important meeting. (yay so fun)

Once everyone started to quiet down, Minghao took a deep breath.

"Okay" he sighed. "After an unfortunate incident that occurred yesterday," he paused, "Mingyu will be gone on a mental health leave for this week."

As the only people who knew what actually happened during the 'incident' the twelve pairs of eyes stole glances at each other.

The moment a pair would make eye contact their mouths would spread into a smile.

A few had to cover their mouths and Soonyoung had to fake a cough in order to hold in his chuckles.

Chan was on the brink of bursting out into laughter, but thankfully Seungkwan was their to nudge his side.

The rest of the team members present, outside of the thirteen friends, had no clue what went on yesterday. It was evident in their faces that they were concerned about Mingyu. (Although most of them were too tired to really care)

Hao carried on, "Since Mingyu is the one who runs the truck, we're gonna need to arrange for his absence."

The room filled with groans.

"I know it's very last minute, but the situation was so sudden" Hao explained, "I'll take any volunteers who can run the truck this week! I will leave a sign up sheet on the front desk in the office." he gave a big (fake) smile.

"Thank you for your time!"

"I cannot believe that Mingyu gets a whole week off just because a bird pooped on his shoulder!" Chan exclaimed.

Y/N thought back to the events of yesterday and smiled. "No yeah, if I was Gyu, I would be traumatized."

"So are any of you guys gonna run the truck?" Joshua asked.

Jeonghan was the first to speak up, "Well I would love to, really I would, but no one else can handle Guest Services. What a shame!" he pouted.

Joshua joined in, "Yeah and I'm only trained in the cafe so..."

The rest of the friends ignored the twos' fake sympathy.

Chan walked over to the list.

"Oh! It looks like Shownu already offered to take the truck for tomorrow and Thursday! And Johnny took Wednesday and Saturday."

Jun turned to Jihoon, "Do you want to throw the truck on Tuesday? I can help you too!" he suggested

Jihoon thought for a moment.

"Hmmm. I guess that'd be fine. But I'll probably need support in market afterwards."

Soonyoung's ears seemed to perk up to the mention of needing help in market.

"JI I CAN HELP YOU! PLEASE!" he desperately said.

Wonwoo looked at him puzzled.

"Why do you want to work in market so bad?"

Soonyoung stood up. It seemed like he was about to deliver a speech in front of a huge crowd.

"BECAUSE! I've only had shifts in drive up AND ITS TOO HOT TO BE OUTSIDE GIVING CUSTOMERS THEIR ORDERS! If i'm out in the sun for another day I will die of heatstroke!" he exclaimed.

"I WANT TO EXPERIENCE BEING IN THE COOLERS AND FREEZERS!"

Y/N gently pat his back affectionately.

"It's okay Soonie. I'll buy you ice cream after your shift today okay!"

After Soonyoung eventually calmed down after his little burst, the group continued to plan out the truck schedule.

"I'm in fulfillment this whole week. The batches don't even drop until the store opens so I'm sure me and Vernon can handle it! We can take a day for the truck!" Y/N cheered.

Y/N turned to Vernon.

"Vernon what day do you want to take?"

Vernon just shrugged, "I'm cool with whatever"

Minghao took a look at the list so far.

"Well we only have one day left to fill. Any takers?"

Chan quickly pointed to Seungkwan, who was literally minding his own business.

"I heard Seungkwan say he wants to volunteer!"

Seungkwan gave Chan the most bombastic side eye.

"I SAID NO SUCH THING! I HAVE NO TIME FOR THE TRUCK! HAVE YOU SEEN MY DEPARTMENT??!? I SPEND MOST IF MY TIME PICKING UP AFTER THE CUSTOMERS COMPLETELY TRASH THE PLACE!!"

Chan ignored his pleas and just gave Seungkwan a tight lipped smile.

"All I'm hearing are excuses"

"WHY YOU LITTLE-"

And so therefore an argument had erupted.

While Chan and Seungkwan were bickering the others turned to Y/N and Vernon.

Jihoon looked over at the two, "Can you guys really handle the truck on Friday?"

Y/N seemed to take offense to his comment.

She scoffed playfully, "Why? You think I can't because I'm a woman?"

"Nah Y/N I don't think we're concerned about you. It's Vernonie over here." Hao butted in. "I haven't seen him do much heaving lifting at work."

Joshua joined in too.

"Yeah to be honest, I don't think I see Vernon work at all. He usually does one batch and I swear he disappears for the rest of his shift!" he exclaimed.

This seemed to catch Cheol's attention. He made a mental note to check the cameras and see where Vernon would go off to.

Y/N shook her head. "Y'all are underestimating Kpoppapī. He's been working out."

Vernon nodded his head in agreement.

"Yeah. I gym."

"OKAY BUT HOW COME YOU WONT TAKE A TRUCK DAY HUH!" Seungkwan shouted.

Chan was quick to defend himself, "YOU KNOW ITS BACK TO SCHOOL SEASON! IM STRUGGLING IN THE SEASONAL DEPARTMENT! ALL I CAN SMELL ARE CRAYONS! CRAYONS!" he raised his hands like a mad man.

The rest of the group decided to focus back on the two arguing.

"Why doesn't Seokmin just take the last day?" Wonwoo suggested.

A loud gasp was heard from Y/N.

"NO! My little cupcake HATES running the truck" Y/N frowned, "I will not let that happen!"

(The favoritism is really showing)

Jihoon decided to speak up, "Well if I have to have Soonyoung help me in market, the least he should do is take a truck day."

"HOW DARE YOU!" Soonyoung said.

Hao seemed to agree, "Yeah that makes sense."

Soonyoung shook his head, "WHY DOESNT WONWOO TAKE A DAY!"

Soon more and more voices started to join in.

At this point there were 3 different arguments happening all at the same time.

"HOW ABOUT WE RECONSIDER JOSHU-"

While the whole group was busy arguing over who would take the last day, one person quietly made their way to a seat with the truck schedule in their hands.

Everyone else was too busy arguing to pay attention.

With a smile on his face, Jeonghan quickly wrote down a name on the very last spot.

Once he finished his task, he sat back and continued to watch his friends argue over the, now solved, issue.

He quietly snickered while rubbing his hands together like an evil villain waiting for his plan to be carried out.

On the schedule listed the following:

Mon - Shownu

Tues - Jihoon & Jun

Wed - Johnny

Thurs - Shownu

Fri - Y/N & Vernon

Sat - Johnny

Sun - Seungcheol

prev <- masterlist -> next

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not-poignant · 3 months

Note

Hi Pia! You said that you need another vacation after this vacation, so I am not sure, how puppy situation, even if it partual custudy, affecting you ( may be you in panic when he is there and then recovering when he is not, and then round and round? ), but really, If you need another vacation, I hope you know we will be here to support you for it!

It's been nearly 4 weeks now since we got Toby so I feel like I can talk about this with a bit of a clear head.

(Talk of like an actual PTSD meltdown beneath the read-more, including self-harm mention - nothing graphic. There's zero obligation for anyone to read this, especially for folks who don't think authors should ever be honest about being people with issues):

So, I've been kind of quiet about aspects of this, but I have like severe treatment-resistant PTSD and C-PTSD, and puppies specifically are one of my triggers (especially if I'm responsible for them). The reason for that is kind of awful, and I don't really want to talk about some of the things I've experienced/been through that led to that, so let's just move onto the next part. You're kind of right anon, there has been panic while he is here lol.

As a result, I had a severe meltdown the first time I tried to adopt a dog many years ago now. Could not last 24 hours, needed weeks/months to recover.

But I've always wanted to share my life with a dog and I've been in a somewhat better space over the past year or so, and I thought I could maybe handle it better. I told myself 'if I can just get through that 24 hours I'll realise it's okay and it will all work out.' Anon I cannot tell you where this thinking came from, but it was wrong. Idk why past me was kind of naive enough to think this way but here we are.

No, after that 24 hours, it got temporarily better, and then I slammed into consecutive meltdowns, each one worse than the next, until the people around me were afraid for my life. I am still recovering from some of the harm I inflicted on myself during the last three weeks and likely will be for some time to come. The combination of a really intense PTSD relapse, as well as not being able to handle (as an AuDHD person) intense changes to my schedule basically compounded and I broke.

I made the decision to rehome Toby, and first contacted the people around me. Glen's mum said she wanted a dog, and had been specifically looking into dogs like Toby anyway, and so we decided this would be best because then I could still be involved (I love Toby to pieces).

After getting some space, I finally started to adjust, and have gone back to having Toby about 4~ days a week, with a view to going to about 6 days, with one day spent with my mum, or Glen's mum.

Today is the first day I was able to handle having him on my own for around 9.5 hours. And I'm here and able to write about it, so that's progress. He'll be here all day Sunday, and then Tues-Weds-Thurs-Friday. And from there a decision will be made as to where I'm at with my mental health etc.

I'm a bit more hopeful now that I might be able to keep him, but my PTSD is still very very bad. I'm having some nights where I'm simply not sleeping until 7.30am (even if he's not here), and my hypervigilance is crazy. Like, I am having so many auditory flashbacks it's stupid. So this is why I've been saying this break hasn't been very restful or productive. Because my mental health tanked like I detonated a landmine inside myself.

I didn't actually plan the two week break for Toby! That was just a coincidence honestly.

Unfortunately I have a lot of health conditions that respond very poorly to stress, so I'm dealing with those now too. And then additionally, in all of this, I had a breast scan / mammogram / ultrasound that has confirmed a suspicious lump I found a couple of months ago (breast cancer runs in the family), and I suspect I'm going to need a biopsy. I'll find out on Monday if that's the case. That's been in the background and hasn't been helping.

There's some other stuff going on that's not really worth talking about because these are the main things, but that's a good picture I think. It turns out 'just getting through the first 24 hours' doesn't magically make a severe PTSD trigger go away. And that forced exposure is not 'exposure therapy' - that's just reinforcing a trigger.

Anyway! I feel like I'm through the worst of it, and I am seeing glimpses of how my life could be richer if I keep getting through this. But...that's why I think another break. *smiles tiredly.* I have to wait a bit now for the PTSD / C-PTSD symptoms to settle down, and I also need to see what's kind of worsened after this. Realistically, with a relapse to this degree, it could take between 3-6 months to really start recovering, or to at least get back to where I was before December.

I hope with all my heart I can get there with Toby by my side. I love him so much.

(I want to add that Toby has never ever been in a position of harm at any point, and in fact I probably put myself in harm's way for his sake, because I wanted to provide solid continuity of care - in case anyone was worried about that).

Er so yeah! But I've picked up my writing again this week and have been able to do some like...things I'd been neglecting, and I feel more human again, I just hope I get some sleep tonight

#asks and answers #personal #tobermory the cavoodle #that's also why i haven't always consistently been sharing photos #realistically he's spent about 4 days away from us?#and that alone has been enough to kind of help me sort my head out #when i realised it was PTSD that helped too #because i've been able to spot the severe hypervigilance for what it is #and sometimes just being able to name a thing helps #and finally intensive training with toby #has adjusted some of his behaviours very quickly #and he is now a very calm and well-behaved dog already #we just need to do more separation training and then i think i will finally start #settling a bit more #our vet's super happy with where he's at #but...um...you know it's never nice to make your mum cry #because she's scared for you :(#administrator gwyn wants this in the queue

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nonexistent-introvert · 1 year

Text

Apologies

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Joel was too harsh on Ellie and Jesse on patrol. You talk to him and help him make things better

A/N: I wanted to write angst but settled on a fluffier piece instead. Vulnerable Joel and Joel trying his best to be better. I just watched Avatar 2 so this may be inspired by jake being overprotective of his children too..

“I think I did a pretty good job at handling myself back there!”

“Yeah? It was reckless! You’re just lucky, if it was a bad day you could’ve gotten us all killed and trust me, you don’t want that to be on you.” Joel shouted back at Ellie. Ellie let out a huff, “But-” Joel looked away from Ellie, turning his attention to Jesse instead who was standing at the side, bracing for his turn. Joel pointed accusingly at Jesse. “What were my orders?”

“To be quiet. No guns.” Jesse repeated, lowering his head to avoid Joel’s burning glare. “And what did you do?” “I shot a runner.” Joel sighed, massaging his temples. “You know how much trouble that shot brought us? The clickers that it attracted? If it was a horde, we would have been infected or dead!” “Jesse only shot the runner because it was going for you!” Ellie shouted, unable to keep her mouth shut. “He had your back!” Ellie defended.

“ Both of you are not ready. I’ll tell Tommy.” Joel picked his gear up from the floor, turning to stomp out before Ellie could say anything, brushing past you who stood outside the stable. You came to welcome them back since it was Ellie and Jesse’s first patrol on the longest route, but when they came back with a scowl on both Ellie and Joel’s face while Jesse look deeply ashamed, you knew something had went wrong.

Your eyes scanned the two teenagers who stood in the stable. Jesse was in a daze, probably reflecting on his actions while Ellie paced around, kicking the bucket in a corner in anger. “Get your cuts cleaned up and rest up. It has been a long day.” You instructed the both of them. “You heard that didn’t you? What the hell is wrong with him!” Ellie cursed.You pursed your lips, “I’ll talk to him. The both of you did well today. I’m sure you guys have your own reasoning and judgement and that’s great, its not like you have Joel barking orders at you everytime. I’m just glad all of you made it back.” You reassured them, Jesse giving you a thankful smile before they left.

—----------------------------------------

Joel was sitting on the couch, mindlessly playing the guitar, his eyes in a daze. You sat beside him, propping your feet up on the coffee table. A silence falling between the both of you.

“You were too harsh on them.” Joel placed his guitar down, running his hands through his hair. “They were too reckless, everything went wrong. Another wrong step and we wouldn’t have made it back.” Joel explained. You let out a laugh, “Joel, we are in a fucking apocalypse. Everything is bound to go wrong.” Joel looked over to you at his side, clenching his jaw. “Well, it shouldn’t. I’m just making sure everyone makes it back in one piece.” “Joel, none of us survived so long with calculated moves, out there, it’s just us, no one to guide us, hesitation would have gotten us killed.” You reasoned. He crossed his arms, “What’s your point? I should go easy on them. Let them make all the mistakes and get them killed?” Joel sneered. You sighed, “Screaming at them won’t help, they already know what they did was wrong but it was a natural instinct. If Jesse hesitated on pulling the trigger… you would’ve-” You trailed off, not wanting to finish that thought. “All I’m saying is that you screaming at them only makes them doubt themselves more. We cannot afford to pay the price for hesitation out there.”

Joel leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. “I know, I just- Everything happened too fast, I was afraid that I might lose them and it would be my fault.” He finally admitted, his voice softening. You looked at him, understanding how he felt, especially when you almost would have lost him today. You didn’t say anything but put your arms around him, he leaned into your touch, letting himself lean back onto the couch. “I was terrified, Ellie was struggling against a clicker and I was being held back by another clicker. I couldn’t think, all i thought about was what if i was too late, what if again and again. I was drowning in my thoughts.” “Joel, you’re not alone. Don’t carry all the burden on your shoulders.” You said, touching his shoulders as he pulled you into his embrace. “I’m trying darling.” he said, burying his face against your neck.

—-----------------------------------

Joel downed another shot of whiskey, sighing to himself when Ellie shot another glare at him. You shook your head at Joel’s actions, excusing yourself from the conversation with Tommy. “If it’s affecting you that much, you could always just apologise Joel.” You signaled for a drink. Joel shook his head, “What if-” “Not this again Joel. Don’t let yourself drown in your thoughts again.” “I just don’t want to mess this up. Ellie and I have been on threading on thin ice lately already, i don't want to do anything to drive her away.” Joel had a worried look on his face, you gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. “At least you’re trying, I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.” Joel held your hand gently in his, “Would you come with me? For support? I think she won’t be that pissed if you’re with me.” You shook your head, giving him an encouraging smile. “She would think I put you up to it. Do it from your heart Joel. Bare your heart to her.” You advised. He merely sighed, kissing the top of your head lightly before mustering the courage to go over.

-------------------------------

“I don’t need a forced apology Joel” Ellie said. “It’s not. I mean it, everything I said.” Joel established, feeling hurt at how cold Ellie was to him. Ellie stared at him, pondering everything he said. “We’re good.” She softly said. Joel eyes widened, “We are?” “Jesse and I talked about it. We were kinda reckless.” Ellie scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “We’re sorry for not listening to you too.” Ellie apologised. Joel smiled brushing her off, “Then why don’t we have our usual movie night on friday? I found a copy of a superhero movie that I reckon you’ll like. The Avengers?” Ellie’s eyes shone, “No way! I recently found some comics on it. I’ll love to!” Joel chuckled, happy to see Ellie all excited. “Well see ya then.” Joel smiled, making his way back to you.

“She’s good for him.” Ellie concluded, looking at you who was sipping on whiskey at the bar. Jesse followed her gaze, humming in agreement. “The only person i know who can stand him, and also somehow talk some sense into his stubborn brain.” Ellie said, Jesse snickered. “Joel Miller, the most stubborn man and the strongest warrior i know has fallen in love, Can you believe that?” Ellie said. Jesse laughed, watching you hold onto his arm as Joel led you of the pub, bright smiles on both your faces. “Ah.. falling in love. I do hope they get their happily ever after, like the fairytales.” Jesse spoke in admiration.

“They will. Or else true love isn’t real.”

#tlou x reader #joel miller tlou #tlou #joel tlou #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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skoulsons · 1 year

Text

Analyzing time?? This one’s really long and it is 5am, forgive me

he was doing the nervous hand rub thing before they started talking :/

“It was Marlene. She hired us to smuggle her to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kid.” voice cracks :/ though it’s for Tess. Mans cannot process grief and is still struggling. I want to hug him so bad. “It was her dying wish, what the hell was I supposed to do?”

“We made it as far as K.C., and then, y’now, she saved my life there from another kid. Five years ago I would’ve destroyed him. But that had to shoot him to save me. Fourteen years old.” Second voice crack. Because she’s 14. Because she shouldn’t have to do that, like he told her in that store. She’s just a kid. A, supposed to be innocent and happy, kid.

“Because I was too slow and too fucking deaf to hear him comin’. And I saw…I saw a man kill his own brother to save her life while I just watched.”

Something he couldn’t move. Something he wanted to stop. And when he did find his feet and felt like he was able to do more than watch, he was stopped. He was prevented from getting to her. To protecting her. To cleansing that fear that was eating away at every muscle in his body. To grab her and check her and make sure she wasn’t hurt. How he couldn’t stop her from seeing Henry do that. Or how he couldn’t have stopped Sam from turning.

“And today, I thought that dog was gonna tear her apart because it smelled somethin’ on her. And all I did was stand there. I couldn’t…move.” And his voice is so shaky. Because the fear is too much for him. It’s been too much for him mentally, and now it’s even too much for him physically. Showing itself outwardly and coming out in little nervous ticks of anxiety, as well as panic attacks.

“I couldn’t think of anything, is- I just…I was so afraid.”

Now, let’s hope I can write out the thoughts my brain likes to tease me with but ultimately keeps a secret. It’s not just “I was afraid” or “I was scared” or whatever. It’s “I was so afraid.” I was petrified. He is so wracked with a constant overwhelming, debilitating, and exhausting fear over her and her safety. The thought of a dog smelling any infection in her and tearing her to shreds. Of how they were surrounded and Joel wouldn’t be able to take all of them. How they’d shoot her on site and she’d fall behind him while panic, fear, and anger rise in him as he bends beside her dead body. How he has a panic attack, right here, because he’s staring at this man with his rifle pointed right at Ellie, waiting for that dog to bark so he can fire. How Joel’s hearing goes out. How it’s all muffled and and morphed. How he thinks ‘this could be it, again’. How he knows this dog could smell it and that there’s no way, just like all the people before, to prevent it. But what brings him out of those rampaging thoughts and that panic is her laughing. Her. Those thoughts are calmed and taken under control when that wonderful, wonderful sound hits his ears. That sound he’s fallen asleep to. The sound that calms him down. Down enough to bring him out of a panic attack and enough to lull him to sleep.

“You think I can still handle things, but…I’m not who i was. I’m weak.” Joel miller, stoic man, who wholeheartedly believes emotions are a weakness. It’s what he’s built up against the last twenty years. And when Ellie comes and tears that down and makes him feel again, it’s so much. He used to be strong, ruthless. Now he’s vulnerable and weak. For caring about his little girl.

“Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up out of nowhere and…and my heart feels like it’s stopped.”

Oh to love someone so incredibly much that thinking about them and their safety and how you need to protect them sends you into a panic attack. As terrible as it is, that seems pretty profound to me.

“And I have dreams every night. (What kind of dreams?) I don’t know. I can’t remember. But I just know that, when I wake up, I’ve lost somethin’.

‘Somethin’ used to be Sarah, and now it’s Ellie, at least a few times. Maybe they take each others spots. Maybe Ellie dies the way Sarah does. Maybe Sarah gets torn apart by that dog. Maybe it’s their faces morphing back and forth in that grass as she cries and grips at him, costing his arm and neck in her blood. Maybe it’s Ellie calling him dad. Maybe it’s Sarah under that runners thrashing arms and teeth.

“I’m failin’ in my sleep.” WHAT THE HELL CRAIG. “It’s all I do. All I’ve ever done.”

It’s all he ever does. He’s a walking failure. He cannot be right, no matter how hard he tries. Even before the apocalypse, he forgot to buy pancake mix so that Sarah could make them birthday pancakes, and he forgot their cake. He never even got to get their cake. And he swore on his life he would. Another fail. Every person he’s ever murdered, especially the innocent. Every failed attempt at protecting someone. Tess, Henry, Sam, Tommy. All failures. It’s all he’s ever done.

“Is fail her. Again and again and again.”

‘Fail her’. Disappointment in his face at himself, almost. Because that’s who Joel Miller is. A failure and inevitably disappointed at himself for not being able to stop it. Stop Sarah, Tess, bill and Frank, or Henry and Sam. And now, stop Ellie. How, when the time comes, because it always does, he won’t be able to stop it. Because he’s cursed and all he can do, without a shadow of a doubt, is fail. And how her is turning into both of them. It’s a gray area. She’s a gray area. He’s having nightmares of both. He’s failing both. But we can barely tell the difference anymore. But it’s his kid. And a parent should never feel like they failed their child. And yet he does, a million times over

“I’m gonna get her killed, I know it. I know it. I have to leave her.”

‘Just like I killed Sarah’. And he can’t do it. He can’t stomach that. He can’t face that. He can’t look his other daughter in the eyes as she dies, too. Because he knows it’ll happen. He knows. He’s positive of her fate, and he has to leave.

“…You have to take her. You can’t tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you’re the only one I trust. If anyone else sees those bites on her, what’s under her skin…they’ll shoot her. It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you. I swear.”

He cannot stop talking about how much he fears. Even once’s she’ll be gone and away from being his responsibility any longer, he still worries. That if anyone finds out before the Fireflies, they’ll shoot her. How even though Tommy would be the one with her, he still has to say it. Still has to make an effort to tell Tommy how fucking much she means to Joel. And no matter where he’d go, she’d still be with him. What happened to her would still follow him. If she was okay would still follow him. She’d follow him to the ends of the earth. Her jokes, her laughing, her attempts at whistling and her incessant questioning. It’d follow him everywhere.

“I’ll take her out at dawn.”

And he exhales like he’d held his breath their whole journey there. Tommy agrees, thank goodness. She’s not his responsibility. Mere hours from now he’ll be let go of that job. Of that kid. Of that little fly buzzing in his ear. He’ll be able to go wherever: back to Boston, a house in Jackson, maybe the little sheep farm he talked about. But she’ll be gone. That’s what matters.

But as relieved as that sigh sounds, it’s not complete relief. He doesn’t want to do this. “Do you give a shit about me or not?” “Of course I do.” How could she ask that? He doesn’t want to let her go. He wants to hold her into his side and let his heart feel what she’s so graciously opened up for him to feel. To have her and keep going together. To be a ‘we’. To have his second chance at fatherhood and to let it hit him with all the force of a tsunami. But it all ties back to failure. He will fail her. “I made this decision for your own good” because I’ll get you killed. Because I’ll fail. It’s what I’m good at. Because it’s all I know how to do. It’s the one thing I can do, perfectly. I’ll fail at protecting you. You’ll die, just like the rest of them. Just like her. And I cannot handle that. So I’m leaving you. Because I love you way too much to put you through that.

#im fine.#it’s eating me up inside I haven’t stopped thinking #I was getting full body chills watching this scene over and thinking about it I just #THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME. AND THEYRE TOGETHER NOW BUT NOW JOELS HALF DEAD SND WE BARELY GET TO SEE THEM HAPLY #I don’t know man. im gonna go mad loving them.#the last of us hbo #tlou spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams

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