#its just a part of life and somewhat of an old friend

[turrondeluxe]

One question I would like to ask: [How do the turtle tots see their papa? (Part 1, because I can't put everything in here)] Do they idolize him as their hero, or as just their jolly turtle dad? You said the kids do end up learning ninjutsu. Dis they discover this by chance and wanted to learn, or did Mikey realized by himself it was a good idea to teach them? Did their perception of their father change because of it? And do they think Mikey it's a good sensei?

They adore their dad and love him very much!

They do idolize him, but just as a loving parent figure. After all, they can't truly envision the silly turtle that sings while cooking their meals in the hero light and they get truly flabbergasted each time Mikey tells them stories of his brothers and their adventures because they always forget their dad also lived them (Will get back to this in a bit, following the order of your ask ;] ).

The kids do know ninjutsu! They are all in completely different levels of it though.

Mikey wanted them to be able to defend themselves in case they ever got themselves in dangerous situations but he never does force them to practice into it more if they don't wish to. Uno and Moja are the ones who get into more advanced training from Mikey when older and they spar with each other and with Mikey constantly (Uno is the one who thought it would be cool of him to get better at ninjutsu, to be like his uncles, and Moja decided to get more training as well only because she didn't want Uno to get a big head about it, she always humbles him if needed be). Yi knows the basic of self defense and only uses her training from time to time just to burn off energy, Odyn trains with her on these occasions. Odyn does Not enjoy training much but he does know the basics of self defense and likes spending time with his siblings to goof around in training.

They do start training ninjutsu because of Mikey talking more about his brothers, Uno was the one who brought the idea of them learning in the first place. When teaching them Mikey always explains that what he's teaching them can harm others and for them to be responsible with it, he just wants them to be safe and to take care of each other. That last thought is something that stays with the kids forever. The kids are brought up in a loving and safe space so Mikey never truly has doubts if teaching them was a bad idea because the kids actually see training as a sort of way where they can burn off excessive energy to have fun and not as something they need to Not Die. The only problem Mikey sometimes has is when they get hurt during training (sprained limbs, moja hitting Uno a bit too hard without meaning to).

The kids perception of Mikey never truly changes from their loving papa, even after learning everything he went through, because they understand where he is coming from (a literal war, being a child soldier, losing his entire family). They love him the same.

The fact that they feel somewhat disconnected from the Mikey of their dad's stories and anecdotes is somewhat of a factor as well. They can't help to just feel like those are completely different lives of someone they know and love because, even after so much tragedy, they look at Mikey and he seems in so much peace now. They are happy for him And are there for him.

Mikey is the best sensei! He makes the trainings fun and actually enjoyable! They love their papa sensei.

The photo April found of Mikey and his brothers has been on their shrine at their home ever since the kids can remember. Since that (April sending Mikey the photo) happened when the kids were fairly small they can't truly remember when it happened BUT babies do sense and react to their parents emotional cues so the kids definitely started crying alongside Mikey as soon as they saw him crying (Mikey had the first ever turtle pile with the babies that day, it was nice). After this Mikey started to cry easily again as he did when younger so the kids are actually used to their dad being an emotional crier (any strong emotion) and hugger/smoocher in general since they grew up with him :'], Odyn is an emotional crier too! just like their dad!

The kids did not know of the way Mikey's brothers died until they were much older and emotionally stable. They grew up with stories of their uncles (visiting Donatello's grave specifically, playing heroes and using their family as characters) and they knew that they had passed on but they only learnt of how they died and the whole backstory (being raised as child soldiers, THE WAR, the way they got murdered, Mikey's solitude time just going around killing bad guys) until they were much older. As one would learn the whole family lore when adult.

Mikey was open about their family story because the kids are family too after all.

When learning all of it the kids were definitely shocked but, again, the view of their loving father didn't actually change in their perception. Yi and Odyn were just So Sad about how tragic the story of their family is. Not surprisingly, Moja and Uno were the ones truly angry at an outside force (the whole foot thing) completely destroying their family in a generational war but there's nothing they can do except be angry for a bit, after all by this time Casey Marie and April have won back New York alongside the revolution, Hiroto is long dead and the generational war is no more. They all cry together and have a turtle pile again that day :']

The kids know there's no more revenge to be had, and that every second they are alive living a happy life with their family is like saying "fuck you. I Win" to the generational war thing and that their uncles would be so happy to know that they grew up safe and in a loving manner.

#I LOVE THESE ASKS AUGH I GO CRAZY ANSWERING EVERY TIME #also sorry if its kinda late of me answering i was planning on drawing smt for it but my hand has been hurting a bit lately :'] #ALSO #something i didnt quite put but IM PUTTING HERE #its that #im latino so i grew up with the knowledge that life is a cycle and that death comes for everyone and that its nothing to be afraid of #its just a part of life and somewhat of an old friend #with also the knowledge that loved ones that are gone still look after us from a greater unknown that we will only know when it's our time #so i like to think the kids grew up with this knowledge from mikey as well #its just comforting to think of #fer talks #ask #peepaw and babies au

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (II)

Reader is cozying up to her unusual home, and her new friend decides to surprise her with a romantic gift. Or at least what he considers to be romantic: a small reminder that no one else can mess with her. Continuation to the yakuza landlord idea!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Content: Female reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, violence, death, mild gore

Tags: @depressed-but-make-it-cute

You search for your keys and open the postal box, retrieving a thick envelope. You've been living at the new apartment for several weeks now and truth be told, you could get used to this lifestyle. Your commute to work is much shorter, the path is never devoid of people, and there are multiple bakeries on the way back with some of the best pastries you've tasted in your life.

You turn around and look for Daitou, somewhat distracted and dreamy. It really feels like a Hallmark movie. A peaceful, idyllic life. Ah, there he is! The scarred man is standing guard before one of the stores. The curtains have been pulled, blocking any glimpse of the inside. You walk towards him with a certain joyful bounce in your step. As you approach him, you can hear muffled screams coming from the building. He notices you and flashes you a smile. 

"Don't come too close, I hear the owner's been avoiding his loan payment and getting all friendly with the neighboring Family. We're questioning him in the back."

"Don't you usually do the interrogations?" 

"Only if we don't need them afterwards. I'm not too good at keeping them alive, ya know?" He scratches the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. "Do you need anything?"

You open your mouth to speak, but it's a little difficult to formulate a full sentence with the interrupted moans and cries occasionally making their way out. The door is ajar and you avoid glancing in its direction, fixating on the man before you. 

"I...uh... just wanted to know if this letter is intended for me or the landlord. It looks like an official document."

You show Daitou the envelope and just as he is about to grab it, he notices the blood stains seeped into his glove. He quickly removes it, wipes his hand on his shirt, and nonchalantly plucks the paper from your fingers.

"That's for Boss. I'll pass it on, so don't worry."

You nod and bow slightly before hurrying back home. Well, doesn't make it less of a movie, you suppose. Just more of a thriller. Or something like that. You drop your bag, slip off your shoes and throw yourself onto the futon with a loud thud. The warmth of the sheets envelops you and the wails of the shop owner become but a distant dream. 

Without the worry of stalkers, or finding a roof above your head, you can finally rest. 

Tonight is rather dark, with the moon shrouded in heavy clouds. Daitou yawns silently as he observes the masked man testing out passcodes for the entrance. Every now and then he lets out a whispered curse, crossing out another number combination on his little crumpled note. It doesn't take a genius to figure out this is the famed stalker you'd complained about earlier. No one else currently lives in the building. 

Eventually, the keypad lights up and the door unlocks. The mysterious man lifts a fist victoriously and reaches for the handle. 

"Oop! Not so fast!" Daitou drops his heavy, sinewy arm over the man's shoulders, pulling him in a friendly embrace. Like two old pals meeting at an intersection. "Let's take a walk together, what do you say? (Y/N) sleeps until noon on weekends, no need to hurry."

With a grunt, the stalker tries to shove himself out of the tightening hold, but the yakuza doesn't budge. He towers over his new friend with an unfaltering, unbothered grin. 

"Now listen, I don't blame you one bit, ya know? I ain't blind, at least not in this eye", he continues as he points to the real counterpart of his glass prosthetic, "so I'm damn well aware of a pretty girl when I see one. And (Y/N)? That's some good taste alright." 

He gives the man an affectionate pat over the chest, pulling him away from the building into one of the side streets. 

"If you want, we can have a drink before the deed, I know a good place five minutes from here. We can share some stories of our favorite girl, eh?" Daitou looks at his watch, feigning mild concern. "But I'm afraid you're not leaving this neighborhood either way. In one piece, that is." 

His arm goes limp and the masked man is released from the iron hold, tripping over from the sudden lack of support. He crawls against a wall and fumbles for something, swiftly pulling out what seems to be a pocket knife. His breathing is erratic and he points the tip of the blade towards the yakuza, now with his features darkened by a frown. He sounds like an entirely different person and the instant switch to a ragged voice startles the stranger.

"See, the trouble is, I promised miss (Y/N) I wouldn't allow a fucking dog like you to be in her presence ever again. Sadly for you, I'm a man of my word." Despite the threatening tone, his posture is relaxed and he stands before the stalker with his hands bare. 

"If I were you, I'd use that little butter knife on my own throat. I don't go easy on horny cockroaches. Especially the ones that mess with my woman." His final words spill out in a bitter growl. 

A small animal in the trashing jaws of a predator. Blood splatters and pools in the asphalt cracks and drained hands claw at the walls, hoping for an escape. As despair sinks in, the alleyway becomes quiet again, save for the merry whistle of the remaining party. Daitou carefully ties the trash bags with the focus of a child wanting to impress the parents with a chore well done. Halfway through he stops and gasps, surprised.

"Oh man, did I really just say 'my woman'? How embarrassing." He blushes and shyly pushes the wrapped slabs away. "I haven't even asked her out yet, ya know? Better not rat me out, Mr. Stalker." He snickers at his monologue and continues the cleanup. 

"Can you really not refrain yourself from smoking in here?" You try to fan away the puff of smoke, scowling at the young blonde man sitting across the table. 

"Why do you even care so much?" Kazuya groans and stuffs the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray.

"I don't want my carrot cake tasting like tobacco. You're lucky the old man is afraid of you, otherwise you would've gotten your ass banned a long time ago."

"You know, I've been thinking about it lately - haven't you gotten quite the attitude? You have a big mouth for someone surrounded by dangerous gangsters. I could blow your brains out right now." 

He lowers himself in his seat and briefly lifts his shirt, flashing a carelessly tucked in gun. He stares at you for a few seconds, as if expecting a reaction, then lets out a chuckle upon seeing your indifferent expression. 

"Shameless. You could at least try to pretend you don't know I have a soft spot for you."

"Just a wild guess, but your Boss probably wouldn't appreciate you shooting civilians in the middle of a café. That's all." You respond with a shrug. 

Your banter is interrupted by Daitou's heavy footsteps nearing in your direction. Kazuya waves, signaling your location, and kicks a chair out, inviting his friend to join. 

"Where the hell were you last night? I thought you'd come with us for drinks after that long ass questioning."

"Sorry, I had to take care of something." Daitou returns an apologetic smile and tilts his head to gaze at you. "Which reminds me, I brought you this."

Your eyes widen in surprise and a faint red tints your cheeks. Was there some special occasion you didn't know about? He places a small box in your hands and leans back in his chair with a cheerful smirk on his face. Kazuya watches the interaction, equally curious as you. 

You open the mysterious gift, giddy with anticipation. The nauseating smell abruptly invades your nostrils and you can feel the contents of your stomach bubble up and pile at the back of your throat. You gag involuntarily and slap your hands over your mouth, as the box tumbles down. A single severed human finger and some teeth glistening with moisture roll out. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Kazuya jumps from his seat, toppling over the table in the process, and lunges at Daitou's throat. The latter can only stare in shock, baffled at a reaction he didn't foresee. There's genuine confusion shaping his features.

"But-...I thought..."

"What the hell did you think, that you'd show up with fucking human remains over some tea and cake?! Jesus, Daitou, she ain't our Lieutenant!"

"But I did- I did tell (Y/N) I'd..." he tries to find you with a pleading, worried look. 

Once the risk of vomiting on the floor has diminished, you shove yourself between the men and gently try to remove Kazuya's arm, still clawed around the other man's throat.

"Let him go, Kazuya. He didn't mean to scare me." You glance at Daitou reassuringly. "Does that mean the stalker guy is now a solved matter?"

The yakuza nods energetically, his eyes now sparkling with pride. He knew you'd understand. Once the tension is lifted, you quickly sweep the gory tokens back into their box and explain the situation to Kazuya. He collapses back in his seat with a frustrated sigh, facepalming himself. 

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I should've told you he's being serious when he says shit like this." He glares at his friend. "She didn't actually expect you to go ahead and do it, dumbass. Couldn't you just mention it or something? 'Hey, I took care of that pervert following you around'! You think she would've demanded proof?"

Daitou is nervously fidgeting with his glass eye, as if searching for the proper words.

"But you always say women will like you more if you surprise them with gifts." He concludes with a pout.

There's a prolonged moment of silence and you burst our laughing, as the blonde simultaneously lets out an exasperated whine. You cannot get over the bizarre sight in front of you: someone as massive and imposing as Daitou, cornered like a punished school boy. 

"See, this is what I've been telling Boss. You're a lost cause." Kazuya rests his elbows on his knees, closing the distance between him and Daitou and continuing with a lecturing tone. "If you got a crush on someone, you bring them flowers or something! What are you, a crackhead? Do I have to teach you basic manners?"

"More importantly, uh...what should I do with these? I guess jewelry made of teeth is a thing, but the finger? Won't it go bad?" you cautiously dangle the package next to your ears, listening to the rustle of its contents. 

Kazuya rips the box from you.

"I'm starting to suspect you don't have all the tiles on your roof either. I'll get rid of it, so you better pretend nothing ever happened. Are we clear?"

Both you and Daitou nod obediently.

On your way back, the man can't help the excitement building up in his chest. You liked his gift, didn't you? He hasn't done anything wrong. Does that make it official, then? As he ponders the implications, he peeks at your small frame, barely managing to keep up with him. Would it be alright if he reached for your hand? Is he supposed to ask first? All these steps confuse him to no end.

Nonetheless, he couldn't be more thankful for you. 

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #original work #oc x reader #male yandere x reader #x reader

[artificial-transmutations]

Insatiable

"You want... dick?"

Oh God, finally! It had been the most stressful and embarrassing fifteen minutes for Derek, but apparently, the old (and somewhat creepy) lady on the other side of the desk finally got what he meant.

"Yes! Dick, cock, penis, that's what I want. For my boyfriend." he added.

Communication has been... Difficult to say the least. Derek would normally never set food into a store like this. The small room was cramped with various utensils Derek couldn't even name. There was a stuffed alligator hanging from the ceiling, and a row of dusty jars was standing on a shelf right next to his ear. Derek was sure they contained old and wrinkly apples, mainly because he didn't want to think about what could be in them if it weren't apples.

However, as creepy as this place was, some of his friends had recommended it highly, because the owner of the store apparently could produce an aphrodisiac that put the blue pill to shame. Even if she looked like the embodiment of a voodoo lady, that was.

However, explaining what he wanted and that he wanted it for his boyfriend had been more than difficult. The old lady seemed to be hard of hearing *and* had a hard time grasping the concept of a gay couple. But, apparently, finally it clicked.

The lady shrugged her shoulders which made her large earrings shake.

"OK. Dick for boyfriend." she shrugged again, but began to gather... Something... From her drawers.

"I need..." she began, but Derek interrupted her.

"Some of his hair, yes." That part was clear to Derek since all his friends who recommended the place mentioned. It was probably just for show, but apparently, some hair was a required ingredient.

The old lady nodded and took the small plastic bag with Sean's hair that Derek had brought.

He was surprised when he saw her kneading a soft wax like mass with her bony fingers. Wasn't she supposed to prepare some pills or potion?

He was yanked back to reality by a short tug on his scalp though. The voodoo lady had ripped off some of his own hair, too.

"Ouch! What was that for?" he asked, although it hardly hurt.

"Need hair both" was the only answer he received.

Fascinatedly, Derek watched as the old lady formed a small humanoid doll from the substance. Of course. A voodoo doll. So much for any real surprise for Sean's birthday. Well, at least it was an original joke gift.

The wax figure was unmistakably male. On the one hand, it was obvious from the V-shaped body, the flat chest and the muscular frame that was emerging, but, most importantly because of the other detail the old lady included: the doll was very much anatomically correct, as it sported a large, erect phallus, proudly emerging from its loins. When she was satisfied, she carefully took out Sean's hair and dotted it on the small doll. Derek watched her put it on the dolls head, its chest and even under the figures arms.

Derek's hair, however, went to the pubic area and was used to form a large bush around the phallus. She even massaged some of the hairs into the rod itself.

When she was finished, she took a short look at the doll and quickly dipped it into a cauldron holding an ominous slimy liquid.

"Here, finished. It's 10 dollars."

"Ookay..." Derek began. "And how does it work exactly?"

"It just works. Trust. It's 10 dollars." was the only answer he got.

Derek shrugged and paid the old lady before taking the wet doll. Careful not to get the liquid on his clothes, he thanked her and left the building.

He drove home, a smile on his lips. Hopefully, his boyfriend would like the joke gift.

***

"What is that?", Sean asked curiously, as he eyed the little figure.

"Isn't that obvious?" Derek laughed. "It's a voodoo doll, and it's supposed to improve our sex life."

Sean raised an eyebrow. "Do you think our sex life needs improving?" he asked his boyfriend in an amused voice.

Before Derek could answer though, he laughed and said: "Thanks, honey". He kissed his boyfriend, and what was originally planned to be a quick peck on the lips turned into a long and sensual kiss involving tongue and roaming hands.

They both panted when they eventually separated.

"I can already see a positive effect.", Sean remarked. "Do you want to take it to the bedroom and help me with that?" he grinned and gestured towards a small but noticeable bulge in his pants.

Derek gulped. "Yeah." he replied.

They hurried to the bedroom, where their clothes came off in a hurry.

Sean was unusually active. Normally, he was a pretty passive bottom, which worked well for Derek, since he had the bigger dick and liked to top more. However, today, after some making out, Sean whispered:

"Let's try something new."

Sean's hand, which had traveled to Derek's ass left little room for interpretation on what he meant. He nodded. If Sean wanted to top, and on his birthday of all days, who was he to disagree?

They moved around, so Derek was on all fours and Sean positioned himself behind him. Derek closed his eyes in anticipation, feeling the cool air on his ass, the bed slightly dipping, and Sean's hot breath.

"I can't wait to get inside you." Sean breathed.

The next thing Derek felt was something hard, wet and hot against his asshole.

His eyes shot open.

"Is that your tongue?"

Sean hummed. "Yeah, and it tastes great."

He proceeded to lick Derek's butthole, occasionally even penetrating it with the tip of his tongue. Then, finally, Sean removed his tongue and left the stage open for his very erect cock.

Derek had expected him to use lube, but instead, he heard his boyfriend spit and felt a hot liquid hit his butthole. He didn't complain though. This was new, exciting, and he really wanted to see where this would lead. Besides, Sean's cock was small enough to not hurt much either way.

And, true enough, he slid into Derek with little to no resistance.

"You like that?", Sean grunted, and Derek could only moan in response.

Slowly at first, then faster and faster, Sean was fucking Derek. Horny as they both were, it didn't take them too long to simultaneously cry out in ecstasy, as Sean pumped his seed into Derek's ass.

As they were both lying on the bed, panting and recovering, neither of them noticed at first that some subtle changes crept over their bodies. Where Sean was growing a bit bigger overall, both in height as well as in mass, Derek shrunk.

At first it seemed that he was losing stature in the same amount that Sean was gaining - however, that quickly proved not to be the case: After a few moments, Derek had lost a good 25 centimeters of height and was overall thinner and leaner than before.

Sean, on the other hand, was somewhat more muscular and had gained about 5 centimeters in height, putting him at about 1,80 meters now. His changes would have been way less noticeable had it not been for another growth: On both his chest and under his armpits, a patch of dense black and curly hair had begun to sprout.

One thing however had not changed: The size of their slowly softening dicks. However, with their new body sizes, Derek's cock looked even bigger and Sean's even smaller than before.

They were both still catching their breath when Derek was the first to notice the change.

"What the-", he exclaimed. He sat up, looking at his body.

"What is it?" asked Sean, also sitting up. "Woha. Have you shrunk?"

Derek looked at him, confused and slightly worried.

"What? No! You have gotten bigger."

Sean frowned. "Really? I feel like I have grown a bit, but I think you have become a bit smaller."

Sean stood up and gestured his boyfriend to do the same. Really, while the perspective was a bit off for Sean, it was completely different for Derek. His eye level was about at shoulder-height of Sean now and he had to look up to see his face.

"I am shorter." he remarked, dumbfounded.

Sean shook his head. "But that's impossible."

"It is." Derek confirmed. "And why the hell do you have hair under your arms, too?"

Sean shrugged, confused, but then he looked down his own body.

"It's not just there! Man, my body feels *weird*. It's like it's not even my own."

"Tell me about it", said Derek with a grimace. "I feel like a dwarf!"

"Awww." Smiled Sean. "But if it's any consolation: You are a very sexy dwarf. You have such a cute ass." As if to make a point, he slapped Derek's behind lightly.

"Yeah, well, I have noticed your newfound interest in that area." Derek commented dryly.

"Hey, it's not like you can complain!"

Sean readjusted his dick, which hadn't returned to a fully flaccid state with all the talk about asses. It was true, though: Derek was really cute that way.

Derek meanwhile slapped his forehead. "Of course. It must be that voodoo doll. Let me phone the shop!"

"You mean like real magic?" Sean said but Derek was already dialing his phone. After a few seconds, however, he hung up.

"Damn, they're closed for the day already. I'll have to try tomorrow."

"Well, I guess there are worse things than being short for a day. Hey, how about we watch a movie and eat some pizza tonight, and tomorrow, you can go to that store first thing in the morning."

Derek broke into a smile. Sean was right of course. It wasn't like anything catastrophic had happened. Still, the implications, with voodoo magic being real and all that were a lot to think about it. But that could wait until tomorrow.

"Sure! It's your birthday after all!"

They put on some clothes and went to prepare pizza together. Their body sizes were becoming pretty obvious when they settled on the couch after dinner. Of course, their usual snuggling positions didn't quite work out and they had to arrange differently. Finally, they settled with Derek's head on Sean's lap, who took quite a bit more space on the sofa now.

This position allowed Derek to notice at once when, around after half the movie, certain parts of Sean stirred under his head.

"Are you seriously getting a boner from me watching a movie?"

Sean grinned. "Sorry. You just feel so nice down there."

Derek rolled his eyes.

"You know, I can feel a boner poking against the back of my head, too."

"Hey, it's not my fault when you look so cute!" Sean smiled and stroked Derek's hair.

"Well, the voodoo lady did say that the doll was supposed to increase our sex drive. I guess that part works. We can still watch the movie if you want."

"Actually..." Sean began, and Derek could feel Sean's dick quickly getting harder. "... I have a different idea."

Sean pulled his pants down a little, just enough to free his cock.

"Would you give me a blowjob?"

"Sure." replied Derek. It had been a while since they had switched things up, so he was more than willing to go with it.

Sean shifted, giving his boyfriend better access, and Derek scooted lower. He grabbed the shaft and gave it a few tentative licks, before starting to suck in earnest.

While Derek was busy working on Sean's dick, his own was straining his pants, and he opened them to jerk off. However, after some minutes of enjoying the sensation, Sean pushed back Derek's head.

"Enough with your mouth." he said, with his voice coarse from arousal. "I want that ass."

Derek didn't object. He stood up and let his pants and underwear drop.

"Wait a second. Let me get some lube."

"No need." replied Sean and Derek could see that he was right. Sean's cock was still wet from his blowjob and from the precum that was spilling out of the tip. With one hand, he spread his ass cheeks.

"Do it. Do me."

Sean didn't have to be told twice. He stood up and, after some brief repositioning, pushed his cock into his boyfriend's waiting hole.

"Oh God! You're even tighter than before!" he moaned, as he began to push into his boyfriend.

Derek couldn't answer from the onslaught of sensation, but Sean was right. It felt like Sean's cock filled him up like never before. Derek almost came from the sensation of Sean entering him alone.

When Sean began pumping, slow at first but quickly picking up pace, Derek was lost in ecstasy. All he could feel was his boyfriends cock inside of him, filling him from behind and rocking his world. At some point, he came all over the couch, but he didn't stop, because Sean didn't stop. He jerked his own cock more and more, riding the waves of his orgasm while his boyfriend kept plowing his ass.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, Sean's thrusts became faster, erratic. With one last push, he buried his cock in Derek's ass and spilled his load.

Both men saw stars after that and were busy catching their breath, when, again, a change washed over them. This time, Derek noticed as the world around him became bigger quickly.

"Wha... It's happening again!" he cried out, alerting Sean to the fact, too.

Sean watched as Derek got smaller... and *smaller*, still impaled on Sean's dick. His shrinking only stopped when he was about 50 centimeters in height, barely half a meter tall.

"Did... it stop?" Derek asked, with his voice somewhat higher and fainter than before. Sean's voice, on the other hand, sounded deeper and resonated louder when he answered:

"Seems that way. Wow, what a shock. Let's get you off of me, first."

Sean tried to lift Derek up from his lap but found himself unable to. Sean's dick was firmly lodged into Derek's ass now and no matter how hard he pulled, Derek wouldn't come off. in fact, when he felt the hairy root of his cock, he couldn't even find a gap between it and Derek's ass cheeks, so tight was the connection. It was like Derek was glued or welded to his groin.

"Oh my god." exclaimed Derek, when he noticed the same thing. "I'm stuck!"

"What should we do?" asked Sean.

"What *can* we do?" asked Derek, with clear panic in his voice.

"Okay, okay. Calm down. We're still good, right? Everyone is alive, nothing to worry about. Tomorrow, we will go to that shop and have this sorted out."

"You're right." sighed Derek, who was still trying to free himself. "It's not like I'm hurting or anything. This is just weird. And uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? What's wrong?"

"Everything." answered Derek, who had given up struggling. "The position, for starters. My feet aren't touching the ground."

"Oh." replied Sean. There was nothing else he could think of.

"It's not... *that* bad though", Derek continued. "It does kinda feel good to be this close. Like snuggling."

"Like snuggling?" asked Sean.

"Like really *close* snuggling. And you're pretty big right now, so I feel really secure."

Sean smiled, apparently having been successful in calming his boyfriend. He secretly had to admit that the situation was pretty exciting for him, but he didn't want to show it. Instead, he secured the small Derek with his arms and walked to the bathroom. It felt like carrying a small backpack in front of his body.

"Let's get cleaned up, okay?"

They did just that. Derek found that he could stabilize himself pretty well on Sean's body. And they both noticed that Sean, too had grown again. Now measuring about 1,90 meters and being covered by a considerate amount of body hair was certainly something else, but it paled in comparison to having his half-a-meter-boyfriend attached to his groin.

Not knowing what else to do afterwards, they went to bed. Sean carefully climbed on the mattress, making sure not to jostle his tiny partner too much. He positioned himself and put the blanket over him, with Derek safely secured underneath.

"Is everything okay?", Sean asked.

Derek was covered by the blanket completely but actually felt good. It was the safest feeling he had had for a very long time.

"Actually, yeah. I guess. Good night, honey."

"Good night, Derek."

After a few moments, Derek could hear Sean snoring and shortly after, he, too drifted off to sleep.

It was morning, when Derek awoke to a strange sensation. He felt really stiff, his back was straight, and he was feeling... horny. Of course, Derek had felt horny before, but this was no comparison. It was like "horny" flooded his whole system, from head to toe.

His mouth tasted like yesterday's blowjob... again. The salty taste of precum was on his tongue and his lips were tingling. He couldn't remember ever having felt that horny before, his whole body was just buzzing.

"Are you awake?" Sean's voice, deep and rumbling, startled him.

"Huh?", was his only reaction.

"Are you awake?" repeated Sean. "I'm horny as fuck."

"Uh, me, too." answered Derek, slowly regaining control of his voice. "Do you wanna..."

"Yes. Oh yes. Perhaps if I push you up and down my cock, we can..."

"Worth a shot." Derek confirmed.

Sean did just that. He gripped Derek under his shoulders, making sure that his small hands were not crushed, and slowly began lifting him. As before, Derek's ass was still firmly attached to Sean's groin, but the tugging sensation was enough for both of them to produce a deep and needy moan.

However, as Sean pushed Derek back and began to pull again, Derek interrupted:

"Wait! What if... we change more?"

Even though it took a considerable amount of will from Sean, he stopped for a moment. Derek was right, he knew that. But the urge was just too strong.

"Yes..." he half-moaned. "...but I need this."

"Sean, what..." Derek began, but Sean had started to tug Derek's smaller body again, and the rest of his sentence was swallowed by a needy moan from Derek as well. Fuck it, how much worse could it get?

As Sean moved his hands up and down Derek's body, he could feel more changes setting in sooner. The taste of precum in his mouth intensified and Derek found himself drooling up liquid that tasted like it as well. It ran down his body, which was, again, changing.

Derek's arms and legs shrunk into his body fast, faster even than the rest of his body, which was also getting smaller again. It was mainly frustrating for Derek since he couldn't reach his cock anymore, as his extremities got absorbed into his more and more cylindrical body.

Sean's movements changed once Derek's arms were out of the way. No longer was he tugging the much, much smaller man up and down, but instead he closed both of his arms around Derek's torso and started *rubbing* them up and down.

The feeling was incredible. Derek found himself drooling more and more, coating his whole smaller body with precum. As Sean pumped his hands up and down Derek's body, wet sounds emerged, just as if he was pumping a well-lubed cock.

The motions quickly became quicker and quicker, Sean's breathing heavier and heavier. Derek's breathing however stopped entirely, as his inner organs changed into the only thing that was important: the various veins and glands that made up a cock. His own cock and balls disappeared into his body as well - not that he needed them anymore. He didn't need a cock, he was *becoming* a cock. A large and hefty tube of flesh, firmly attached to manly Sean, who was grunting now, close to release.

Derek could feel a pressure starting deep within him, and, as his head changed into Sean's cock head, he *exploded* with his cum, spewing it from the slit that had been his mouth just a few minutes before to everywhere in the room.

***

Of course, the voodoo shop was nowhere to be found - or so Sean claimed. Derek had remained somewhat sentient, but unable to express himself other than through twitching and getting stiff. Sean was a man who had a cock with a mind of his own - literally. The new and enormous cock meat he called his own now was quickly becoming the center of his world. Not only had his cock a mind of his own, Sean was also more and more thinking with his cock. He was positively addicted to getting off and his libido surpassed that of the two men become one.

It didn't take long until Sean lost his job due to the fact that he just couldn't stop masturbating long enough to squeeze in eight hours of work. His environment degraded around him into a cheap and dirty flat. But all of that was hardly important. Sean was a stud of a man with a cock to match. And he knew how to use his equipment all too well. He was quickly getting known as the insatiable top, who sometimes brought home two or three guys at the same time. When he was not busy breeding some bottom, he mainly spent his time watching porn or idly playing with himself. One thing was certain: Derek had certainly got a lot of action for his money.

Time for a good old cock tf! This one is a bit more involuntary and a bit more focused on the actual transformation than my series Closer Than Flesh, which focused more on the story of *being* cockmeat. I'm sure I wouldn't mind either way!

Do you have any transformation you would want to see written? Don't hesitate to message me!

#male transformation #muscle transformation #inanimate transformation #cock tf #hairy

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

where you lead me, i’ll follow ; suguru geto

synopsis; opening up is hard, even under the comfort of a starry sky, seated next to your childhood friend. fortunately, suguru knows you like the back of his hand.

word count; 10k (dont even look at me i got carried away ok….)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers (eventually. probably.), hurt/comfort (mostly comfort tbh), fluffy overall!!, reader is silly and suguru is down horrendous, written with a no curses au in mind, i’m madly in love with suguru geto and it shows

a/n; nothing goes harder than sugu w/ the childhood friends trope i fear. the angst potential, the fluff potential….. the slow burn of it all……….. anyways can u tell i miss him :’3

time goes by so very quickly.

as you look up at the starry sky, the thought envelops you like a fuzzy tidal wave; heavy, suffocating, entirely unavoidable. these days, sinking beneath its weight is all you seem to do.

a sigh flows from your parted lips. soft and quiet, somewhat resigned. the midnight air tastes cold and crispy on your tongue, turning into a flurry of vapour as you breathe it out again, watching it dissipate into the summer night. beyond the boundary of your vision, stars burn in tandem. all you can see is the darkness of the cosmos, pupils dilating as you take in the immensity of the world, the little flickers of starlight that glimmer in that all-encompassing veil of black — blooming out across the galaxy. 

the moon is beautiful, tonight. 

a big blob of reflected sunlight, smiling down at you so very tenderly, so gorgeous that it makes your heart ache. shining with a hazy kind of brightness, soothing like the lilt of a mother’s voice. 

and there’s a comfort, in the familiarity of the sight. because the moon is always, always there. always shining down on you, always when you need it most, even when it’s carved into a crescent or hidden by a blur of clouds. a view that never ever seems to change, no matter how many years go by. 

what a lovely thing to be.

another second lost, as you gaze into the nothingness of space. time keeps passing you by, never stopping — seconds turning into minutes, minutes turning into months. that incessant moving of the hands of the clock; tick, tock, tick, tock. over and over again. 

and, really, it’s a little bit scary. you think you might be terrified of time. you’re so afraid, afraid of being left behind, afraid that the world will turn its back on you and then walk away. afraid that everyone and everything will change shape before you know it.

but even in this always-changing, turbulent mess of a life — 

one thing remains the same.

”ah. there you are.”

(that voice.)

honeyed and smooth, but still rough around the edges. just a little husky. deep and familiar, etched into your brain; even if you were to forget everything else, you’re sure you’d still remember it. that familiar, familiar voice. it sounds like moonlit nights, and sunkissed kitchens.

it sounds like coming home.

a turn of your head. it’s a subconscious reaction, as natural as the beating of your own heart, memorized down to the very marrow of your bones — muscle memory, to seek him out after hearing the low timbre of his voice. you do it as if it’s the only thing worth hearing.

and suguru is smiling, when your eyes meet his. that gentle upward tug of his lips, small yet sincere. the one that always puts your mind at ease.

a warmth settles in your chest, at the sight of him. hair down, cascading over his shoulders and back, a little messy; as black as the night sky. a stark contrast to the white of his shirt, old, oversized, with some indie band on the front.

his eyes glimmer like little pockets of stardust in the darkness of the night. cutting through the haze, into your very soul.

”… damn,” you click your tongue, faux pout playing at your lips. ”how’d you know i’d be up here?”

suguru shrugs. ”lucky guess,” he lies.

of course i knew, he thinks. finding you is his specialty. always has been. like that one time he found you hiding under a table at your twelfth birthday party, or the time he found you crying in the woods when you got lost on your school field trip.

finding you comes easy, to suguru. almost like he’s always seeking you out, subconsciously or otherwise, always paying attention to your movements. you go south, and he follows. you go north, and he’s already waiting up ahead.

he’s worried. just a bit, is what he tells himself, but truthfully it’s more than that. because tonight was supposed to be for you. for the both of you, a celebration of your shared graduation — but before he knew it, you had slipped away. seizing the opportunity as soon as people grew too sleepy to notice. 

(sadly for you, no amount of fatigue could ever distract him from the lack of your presence.)

you look small, suguru thinks, curled up with your knees to your chest. sitting all alone up on the roof of his home, a place you’d always go to on nights when you couldn’t sleep. together, sharing whispered secrets and hushed laughter until the sun began to rise again.

back then, it felt like the two of you were the only ones awake in the whole world.

(the safest world he’s ever known.)

the distance between you grows narrower, as suguru makes his way over to you — and it always does, at the end of the day. no matter how much time you spend apart, that uncomfortable distance always, always ends up broached. one of you always moves closer. as if it’s unavoidable, two planets spinning around each other’s orbit.

suguru plops down right next to you, crossing his legs and leaning back. his knee bumps against the side of your shoe, and his shoulder grazes yours. it’s natural, as natural as the glow of the moon, this closeness between you. it reminds you of the gentle lapping of ocean waves at your bare ankles; on mellow summer days, comforting and familiar. a warmth that never goes away.

a brief inhale, and your heartbeat settles into a tender rhythm again. the scent that always lingers on suguru’s skin drifts throughout the air, mingling with your own — it can be hard to distinguish between the two, with how often you end up wearing each other’s clothes, but you could never mistake it for anything else. cedarwood and earl gray, with a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. enveloping every single one of your senses, grounding you in a way nothing else can.

leaning just a little closer to him, subconsciously, you let a fond exhale slip from your lips. barely audible. and suguru mimics it.

”of course i knew,” he whispers, voice gone soft. ”i know you.”

(your chest tightens. it doesn’t go away.)

another tiny breath flows into the air, as you gaze up at the stars in wonder. ”… yeah.”

the silence between you is a comfortable one. always has been. a little fickle, always shattered by one of you before long — usually you, though suguru isn’t much better. 

but this time, he stays silent.

he’s waiting. you know he is, because he always does. he’s waiting, waiting for you to break the silence first. waiting for you to say something, tell him what’s wrong, explain why you’re up here instead of celebrating with the others. waiting for you to explain why your eyes have looked so tired, this past week.

(you’d like to ask him the same thing. he’s an idiot if he thinks a little makeup is enough to hide those dark circles from you.)

suguru is nothing if not patient. so he waits, unbothered by the silence. admiring the stars, and the flicker of their light. a vague worry simmers in his chest, however, and he can’t stop himself from glancing down at you every now and then.

an insatiable yearning to soothe you gnaws at his heart — but he can’t, not unless you let him.

a sigh drops from your lips, suddenly. deep and heavy, like a rock thrown into the depths of a lake. the silence breaks. 

”hey, suguru.”

the man in question doesn’t speak, only emitting an inquisitive hum. he doesn’t look at you, either; a form of respect. knowing you’ll find it easier to get whatever’s bugging you off your chest without him scrutinizing you. 

the pads of your fingers tap at the tiles of the roof. an absentminded habit, as you inhale a bit of the midnight air. it tastes like summer. ”do you remember how we first met?”

suguru glances at you, a surprised glint in his eyes. he can’t help himself — unable to resist the temptation of seeing your face, drinking in your expression.

then he chuckles.

”haha.. are you feeling sentimental?” he teases, a lighthearted sense of amusement in his voice. bubbling up like seafoam. ”did you come out here just to brood?”

the corners of his lips quirk up when he hears you huff, hugging your legs closer to your chest with a furrow of your brow. cheek squished against your kneecap as you meet his gaze.

”c’mon,” you whine, pouting childishly in a way you know will make him give in. ”just indulge me a little…”

suguru smiles. it’s soft around the edges, smoothed over with an unmistakable fondness — and he does indulge you. he always does. ”of course i do,” he assures you.

the silence that settles between your words is tender. a mutual understanding, of sorts.

of course i remember. how could i not?

”you broke into my backyard.”

a sigh. heavy and sharp, as it tumbles from your lips, and suguru has to bite back a grin. his eyes shine with something teasing, in the dark, when you shoot a glare his way.

”okay, first of all —” you begin, ”i didn’t break into anything. i climbed over the fence. peacefully.”

suguru raises a brow. ”that literally doesn’t matter? it’s still trespassing.”

”i was seven years old!”

”some criminals start young.”

another harmless little huff, as you halfheartedly try to sound annoyed. it doesn’t work. in an attempt to hide your growing smile, you tuck your face into your knees. ”whatever.”

then your gaze shifts. towards that expanding starry sky, the vibrant flicker of the moon, like a moth to a flame. helpless to its charms. it looks like a giant sponge cake, the kind you and suguru used to make when that was the only recipe you knew — you’d eat from the batter, and he’d scold you. then he’d do it too, when your back was turned.

a smile settles on your lips. in every star, you find a new memory; and the fuzzy nostalgia that engulfs you makes your heart feel bare. ”i just wanted to pet your cat,” you recall, softly.

suguru nods. gazing down at you, basking in the expression on your face — peaceful and relaxed, a little more yourself. so effortlessly pretty, bathed in moonlight. ”yeah. i remember.”

he allows the memory to sweep him away, for a second or two. recalling the sight of you, all those years ago, an unfamiliar child in his backyard. it was like you had just fallen out of the sky. quiet and meek, but looking at his cat with an excited glimmer in your eyes.

”you just pointed to her and expected me to understand,” he continues. a grin blooms on his face, hopelessly endeared. ”you were shy back then.”

a raise of your eyebrow. ”um? i’m still shy?”

suguru gives you a look. he doesn’t have to say anything — it’s written all over his face. the classic suguru look, the kind where you can tell he’s itching to say oh, really now? the kind where he tries to look judgemental, but never quite manages to hide the amusement in his eyes.

a small giggle leaves your lips, and suguru smiles, once more. so helpless in the face of your joy.

”then we watched movies at my place.”

you hum. ”it was fun.”

”yeah.”

another bout of silence. soft, terribly precious. the air is chilly, but not enough to make you shiver; a mild summer night, pleasant on your skin and light on your heart. a gentle breeze tousles your hair. in the distance, you hear cicadas buzzing — a familiar sound. unchanging.

(if only everything else could stay the same, too.)

”do you remember what movie it was?”

a lazy smile plays at suguru’s lips, when he angles his face to look at you. one eyebrow raised. ”is there a point to this, or —?”

”i just wanna reminisce.”

suguru pauses. your eyes trail across the view that stretches out before you, from the moon to the distant city lights, as you fidget absentmindedly with the strings of your hoodie. he thinks to himself that you look a little lost. gaze forgotten, within the depths of that endless night sky.

no more teasing, he decides, tactfully. instead, he opts to answer your question; softly, as if he could hurt you if he raised even a single octave of his voice. ”whisper of the heart,” is all he says.

a hum, as you nod. decisively. ”the best one.”

suguru turns his head away, and mutters something under his breath. but you can still hear him — and you know he wants you to.

”spirited away is the best one…”

out of the corner of your eye, you shoot him a thoroughly unimpressed look. he bites back a soft bout of laughter, teeth sinking into his lip gently, not enough to sting.

”you’re so basic,” you grin.

”you just want to feel quirky,” suguru shoots back, instantaneous. ”and you only like it because of seiji.”

”you only like spirited away because of haku!”

suguru closes his eyes, and leans back a little, crossing his arms in a childish fashion — and you know he only does it to make you laugh. ”i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies.

”oh please,” you scoff. ”you really think i don’t remember your queer awakening?”

”hm? what was that?” feigning confusion, he puts a hand to his ear. but there’s a mirth in his eyes, impossible to miss. ”you’re gonna have to come closer, i can’t hear you from here.”

another unimpressed look. you exhale, something in between a huff and a chuckle. ”if i get any closer i’ll be in your lap, dumbass.”

suguru bites his cheek, softly. gulping down the words that almost slip off his tongue.

(i wouldn’t mind.)

”sorry, say that again?”

a little push meets his shoulder, as you roll your eyes. ”yeah, yeah. whatever.”

the banter dies down, as fast as it appeared. then a smile breaks out across your faces, in tandem, the atmosphere shifting into something more sincere — and doesn’t it always, when you’re watching the starry sky with the one you love most?

when suguru continues, his voice has taken on that softer tone, again. the one he only ever really uses around you. ”i liked thinking of us as them,” he admits. ”me as haku, and you as chihiro.”

a soft blink. then your smile grows, sweet like syrup. ”.. hehe. that’s funny,” you cross your legs. palms flat against the roof, knee leaning comfortably against suguru’s. ”i always thought of us as seiji and shizuku.”

there’s something faraway, in your eyes. something suguru can’t look away from.

tentatively, his fingers dig into the skin of his palms, and he speaks. absentminded, a little uncertain.

”… they get married at the end, don’t they?”

a pause. then your gaze snaps over to suguru’s, suddenly mischievous — and he regrets opening his mouth.

”oh?” you purr, almost beaming. inching closer, like a predator sizing up their prey. ”oh shit? are you about to propose, mister geto?”

”i’m just stating facts,” he quips, hands raised in defense. desperately hoping you won’t notice the red tint crawling up his neck, obscured by the darkness of the night.

”incorrect facts,” you grin. if you notice the blush on his face, you don’t say anything. ”they get engaged. not married. big difference.”

suguru huffs. it’s small, as he tries to keep himself from smiling. the beating of his heart is faint, a tender rhythm, stirred by every move you make. he pushes the words he yearns to say back down his throat.

(i wouldn’t mind that, either.)

again, silence blooms. curling around the space between you. it feels nice, just to be like this; just you, and your very best friend, under the soft lighting of the moon. as if you’re the only ones who exist, in an otherwise empty universe — devoid of space and time. like the night could just stop, and stretch on forever. 

there’s an unspoken question in the air, though. one suguru is still waiting for you to answer. one you refuse to answer properly, until he does the same.

you’ve both noticed, of course. even if no one else has, neither of you could ever miss it. suguru has noticed the turmoil in your eyes, and you’ve noticed the fatigue under his. those little signs of stress, as everything around you keeps spinning on; as the future grows closer, with every passing day.

(it’s overwhelming, you both muse.)

— and finally, you’ve had enough.

”suguru,” you call out, and his gaze finds yours instantly. ”have they been stressing you out, lately?”

suguru blinks, eyelashes fluttering softly. a little sleepy. they.

then he smiles. maybe a bit weak, but still as sincere as always — resigned to the fact that he really can’t hide anything from you, after all.

(of course you’d notice it. he was stupid to think you wouldn’t.)

a hum, as he breathes in the air and then exhales it all. trying to formulate the words inside his head, turn the feelings into syllables. and you’re patient. silent, as you admire the way moonlight caresses his skin.

”i’ll manage.” is what he finally says, and your lips curl down into a frown. ”they’ve just been getting on my case, again. you know how they are.”

suguru closes his eyes, and you inch closer to him. barely, by a hair, just to let him know you’re still listening. that you’re waiting for him to continue.

it’s tough, for him. opening up, being vulnerable.

but he knows you won’t do it unless he does, too. so he takes that leap, despite the insistent voice in his head urging him to just keep it to himself.

”it’s just… all these expectations, you know?” he meets your eyes, a little sheepish. downplaying his troubles so smoothly, as if you wouldn’t notice. ”i’m used to it by now, but sometimes i guess it still gets to me.”

you hum, and he continues.

”i feel like i have to be… solid,” he decides on. ”put-together. responsible, and mature.” a sigh, as he wrings his hands together. ”and that’s fine — but it’s like they have everything planned out. like everyone does. how i should act, where i should go…”

suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, so focused on verbalizing his thoughts that he barely notices your fingers curling around his. but he still squeezes them, lightly. as naturally as breathing.

”it’s like my future’s already set in stone. and i’m just expected to follow it,” he looks up at the moon. ”which is also fine. i already know what i want to do. but somehow, all of it just feels so…”

he pauses. unsure of how to put it.

”… suffocating?” you finish for him. 

there’s a second in which suguru can do nothing but breathe. as if frozen, stuck in motion, caught off guard by how deeply your minds are intertwined.

— what a wonderful thing, to have someone pluck the words you’re afraid to say from the back of your throat.

a smile blooms on his face, and a gratitude shines in his eyes. almost overflowing. 

(you’ve always been the only one who ever seems to understand.)

”yeah,” he sighs, relieved. and suddenly his chest feels a lot lighter. odd, how just the tilt of your voice when you say a certain word can chase that discomforting sensation away. 

”don’t listen to them,” you say, assuredly, so softly it’s like you’re coaxing him into believing you. it works. ”they don’t matter.”

suguru chuckles, rueful. ”they’re my parents.”

”so? they aren’t you.” you nudge his side with your elbow. ”they have no say in how you live your life. you don’t need to live up to all those expectations, you know.” 

a soft little breath leaves your lips, and suguru wonders how you seem to always soothe his heart so easily. ”you just need to be suguru,” you mumble, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. ”that’s all.”

a moment passes. suguru parts his lips, closing them again when no sound comes out. and then finally, he speaks.

”… yeah,” he muses. ”maybe.”

”definitely,” you huff. ”trust your best friend. i know best.”

”careful,” he teases, tilting his head lazily to meet your gaze. ”you’re starting to sound like them.” the smile on his face only grows when you gape at him, wholly offended, as if you can’t believe what he just said.

”wha — suguru…” you whine, sleepy, clinging to the sleeve of his shirt. digging your nails into the fabric and tugging on it childishly. ”don’t say that. i’m nothing like them!”

a giggle pushes past his lips. ”sorry, sorry,” he soothes, ruffling your hair with his palm. rough hands, big and warm, that always seem to find their way to your skin. ”i’m just kidding. thank you. really.”

the smile that he gives you glows brighter than the moon. he squeezes your hand, softly — a silent i love you. eyes closed, formed into little crescents, and when he speaks he sounds so painfully sincere. 

”i think i’ll be fine as long as i have you,” he says. it comes out sounding something like a prayer. 

the words make your eyes soften. melting into a mellow hue, so full of affection that you can almost taste it on your tongue. 

”everything will turn out fine,” you murmur, consoling him. still not letting go of his hand. ”you have your whole life ahead of you, you know.”

he chuckles. the sound would be sweet if it didn’t have that teasing tilt to it, the one that tells you his amusement is at your expense. ”now you’re starting to sound like my grandma,” he quips, as if itching for something to bicker about.

but you only pout, and let your fingers slip from his. the warmth that leaves you is so jarring that you’re almost tempted to take his hand into yours again — but you just frown at him. ”i can never win with you, huh?”

suguru shrugs. ”need to keep you humble,” he chirps, pulling at your cheek gently. a lazy grin on his lips. ”we don’t want that ego of yours to grow as big as satoru’s.”

trying to keep yourself from grinning with him, you slap his hand away, playfully. ”that would never happen.”

”uh-huh.”

you give him a look.

”my bad.”

a moment passes. gradually, you feel your heart beginning to melt — just a little, but enough to get your voice hopelessly soft on your tongue. the glimmer of the moon embraces every cell in your body, painting over your features with a certain kind of bleeding tenderness. it’s hard to stop it from seeping out.

”you know that i love you. right?” tumbles from your lips, breathed out into the sky, words too heavy to be held back. ”even if your parents give you trouble, and everyone else, too — i’m still on your side.”

”always,” you promise, devotedly earnest. meeting his gaze. and suguru can’t look away.

something flickers, in the depths of his eyes, like a shooting star. something delightful.

he doesn’t quite know what to say. but he nods; almost meek, in a way, and it makes your chest ache. suguru’s always been the type to keep his troubles to himself, content with never letting anyone see into his heart — even if he’d like them to deep down.

if you can be there for him, even just for a night, then that’s more than enough.

he lets the silence linger for a while longer, soft breathing and the rustling of grass filling the space where your words would be. then he looks at you with newfound determination, suddenly, eyes shining in a way you don’t recognize. 

”— and you know that i love you, too.” 

a moment passes. 

an affirmative hum buzzes in your throat, and you give him the ghost of a nod, shying away from his deep gaze. hoping to escape the intimacy of the question. but he doesn’t let you, stare so heavy that you have no choice but to meet his eyes again, after he nudges your hand with his.

the words that fall from his lips surprise you. something akin to a pout plays on his lips, but it’s more serious than that — he looks dejected.

”… do you, though?” he pushes, a troubled frown on his lips. ”do you know that i love you? just as much as you love me?” 

at your stunned silence, suguru sighs, bringing a hand up to smooth over the crease between his brows. ”sometimes i worry that you don’t,” he admits. ”you always think too much. but i don’t want you to ever have to worry about that.”

his voice is firm, when he continues. ”i don’t want you to ever second-guess my love for you,” he declares, and you cower a little under the intensity of his gaze. playing with your fingers instead of looking at him. ”— so i want your answer.”

when his hand finds its way to your face, you stiffen, just barely. but it’s soft, the way he cups your jaw; the warmth of his palm smoothing over your skin. gentle, as he forces you to meet his eyes, tilting your chin up slightly. a bold move, even though physical contact is no stranger in your dynamic. you feel your heart pick up in speed. 

”do you know that i love you?” he asks, and it sounds almost pleading. you can only find it in you to stare. 

suguru’s eyes are filled with something, something you’d like to call love. and they’re looking deep into yours, almost as if coaxing you into drowning in their hue. mesmerizing. ridiculously pretty. if you stare into them for too long, you fear that you might never be able to look away.

but they’re sweet, and warm. painted over with worried hue, something very kind. familiar. the same eyes that have soothed you for as long as you can remember. 

in your flustered state, you can do nothing but blink dumbly — gaze darting from his eyes, to his forehead, to the sky, to his lips. 

he can tell the eye contact makes you nervous, but some part of him won’t allow you to squirm away. this is important. he needs to know that you know. he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep at night, otherwise.

finally, you squeak out an affirmative yes. and that’s all it takes for him to relax; in one smooth motion, his hand leaves your skin, a relief having bloomed in his eyes. 

”okay. that’s good,” he exhales. 

swallowing down a gulp, your gaze drifts away from the boy to your left. suguru is terrifying, really — doing stuff like that out of nowhere. you check your pulsepoint, discreetly, just to make sure your heart is still beating. 

”alright, then,” he suddenly proclaims, breaking the fleeting silence. ”your turn.”

a blink. your eyelashes flutter in confusion, as you gaze up at him, a question painted on your features. suguru glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

”you’ve been stressed, lately,” he remarks. stating the obvious so you don’t have to. with a soft gaze, eyes that shimmer with understanding. ”i can tell, you know?”

(yeah. he always can, can’t he?)

”… uh,” you croak. clearing your throat and attempting to gather your thoughts, hoping the words will find their way to your lips. ”well. i dunno, really...”

suguru emits a low, affirmative noise, not looking at you. opening up like this makes you feel so uncomfortable. but it’s suguru. you trust him. and you know he won’t let you get away from this, either; he’ll stay up all night if he has to. just waiting for you to put your faith in him.

a sigh leaves your lips, finally, and it comes out sounding just a tad exhausted. ”i… guess i’ve just been thinking, lately.”

and, really, it’s an understatement. thinking is all you’ve been doing, for these past few weeks. thinking of this, and of that. the past and the future. him and you.

suguru hums. an unspoken encouragement.

”everything is just so…” you move your hands, haphazardly, hoping they’ll make the words easier to say. but nothing comes to you. everything is all jumbled up, inside your mind, and it’s just — 

”overwhelming,” you finish. the word falls off your tongue like a tidal wave. ”everything passes by so quickly, and…” you bite your lip. ”i feel like i can’t catch up. i can’t visualize the future at all, and that’s…”

(it’s scary.)

”— it just makes me feel confused.”

suguru waits. patient, attentive, making sure you get all the words out before he speaks. as grounding as the moon, as warm as the sun. 

when you don’t elaborate further, avoiding his gaze, he opts to finally soothe you.

”that’s understandable,” he chimes, voice buzzing with care. ”you don’t have to think about the future right now. living in the present is enough,” a breeze drifts by, tousling his black hair. ”.. it’s for the best, really.”

a smile. it’s a little sad, as you wring your hands together. ”i know,” is all you can say. because you do. it just doesn’t change anything.

the sensation of your nails scraping against the tiles of the roof is discomforting, but you don’t stop. when you part your lips, your voice comes out tiny. barely above a whisper.

”i’m so afraid of change.”

suguru looks at you. his gaze softens, impeccably.

”everything keeps changing. all the time,” you bite into the flesh of your cheek, harshly. ”i hate it.”

”that’s understandable, too,” suguru soothes. tentative, as his hand goes to rest on your head, smoothing down your hair gently. ”change is unavoidable. but you get better at dealing with it.”

”mm, i know.”

”and some things stay the same, too.” 

you glance up at him, and his eyes crinkle. there’s something unspeakable in them, something that’s always been there. light and heavy, all at once. something a little bit too wonderful for words.

suguru smiles. almost a little shy, as he looks into your eyes. ”like you and me.”

…

a deep love unfurls in your chest, warming you up from the inside out. fuzzy and tingly. but with it comes a deep sadness, bittersweet, that you can’t chase away no matter how hard you try; like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe, no matter how many times you try to scrape it off against the concrete.

like you and me.

(he doesn’t know that’s what scares you the most. the thought of that one thing changing, while you just stand there, helpless to stop it.)

”yeah,” you breathe. a wounded little breath.

suguru notices it, despite your vague attempts to act like nothing’s wrong. he notices the fear in your voice, the uncertainty. and once again, he gets the impression that you look a little lost. like you aren’t sure where to plant your feet.

it bothers him. an itch he wants to scratch away. but before he can get to the bottom of it, you begin to speak, once more.

”with you, it’s like…” a breath flows from your lips, as you try to find the words. but this time, they come to you with relative ease. ”if i could do my life over again, and make everything turn out different… then i’d still always keep you.”

silence. you continue, suddenly a little embarrassed at the honesty in your tone. but it’s too late to back out now. 

”and even if everything else changes, if i could pick just one single thing to keep — then it’d be you, too.” the smile on your face is small, a little sheepish. “that’s how it is, so…” 

you trail off. not sure what else to say. suguru isn’t, either; he feels just a little bit stunned, in the face of your sincerity. yet he parts his lips, softly, words making themselves manifest before his mind can even begin to catch up.

”i don’t think i’ve ever told you this,” he begins, not entirely sure where the words will take him. blinking up at the sky, entranced, whilst you look at him quizzically. ”you always call me your guardian angel, right?”

the question makes your lips curl up. it’s a habit of yours, one that’s become almost muscle memory. you don’t remember how it started, but it’s in everything suguru does; from the way he can always tell when you’re feeling overwhelmed, to the way he never fails to bring you a coffee right before your exam starts. 

suguru is always looking out for you, even when you’re apart. like a guardian angel. yours.

you nod. ”because you are.”

suguru smiles, breathing out a fond chuckle, and then shakes his head. ”it’s the opposite.”

you turn to the man beside you, and he’s already looking at you. with his pretty, soothing brown eyes, and the barely visible dark circles beneath them. his gaze is warm and fond, grateful in a way that makes your chest squeeze tight. you melt a little, under its weight.

”you’re my guardian angel,” he says, sickeningly sweet. ”always have been. even back then.”

inhaling the mild air, suguru lets his eyes flutter shut. the taste reminds him of the summer vacations you used to have as kids, when you would ride your bikes to the nearest river and play all day. stopping by any ice cream stand you found on the way there; you always took a bite out of his without asking, and he always tried to get angry at you. but he never could. 

on your way back home, the sky was always dark. a soothing blue hue, stars glittering in the distance, while the moon looked close enough to touch. a night just like this one. you’d walk, together, talking about everything and nothing — sometimes he’d carry you on his back. not once did he drop you. 

a breath, deep and drawn out as he exhales, basking in memories you aren’t privy to. a saccharine smile painted on his lips.

”without you…” he muses, voice a little breathless. fond, and somewhat helpless. but he’s smiling. ”i don’t really know what i’d do, to be honest.”

a moment passes.

”it’s the same for me,” you echo, words escaping your throat before you even get the chance to realize their weight. gaze stuck to the stars, as always. ”i can’t imagine life without you.”

suguru doesn’t speak, afraid that his heart may crawl out his throat if he does. the honeyed smile on his face says more than words ever could, anyway. 

a small bout of laughter leaves your lips. sudden, sad, dripping with longing. it surprises you, catches you off guard — like something within you just overflowed. 

“you know what my biggest fantasy was?” you grin, ruefully. maybe just a little manic. ”i used to think about it all the time, when we were kids.”

suguru looks at you in silence, but there’s a confusion in the way he tilts his head.

there seems to be a knot of some kind, stuck in the very bottom of your chest. something that makes it hard to speak. ”i’d get on a train, and just kinda… leave,” you breathe, hoping it’ll unclog your throat. it doesn’t. ”you know? to somewhere far, far away.” 

and suddenly, the world grows just a little blurred. suguru can see it, in your eyes — you’re someplace else now. gaze trained on something he can’t see. there’s an amused touch to your voice, but also something rather pitiful. a childish wish that never came to fruition.

there’s regret, there, suguru thinks; something close to pain.

”maybe, like… a small port town,” you continue, closing your eyes. “with a cute little café close by, or whatever… somewhere you can see the sea.” 

another breath. you pretend it tastes like salt, like an ocean breeze. then you swallow the lump in your throat, and whisper. ”with you.”

when you finally muster up the courage to meet suguru’s eyes, they shine with nothing but pure understanding. he doesn’t say anything, but he understands. he’s always been like that. not a single word is needed for him to ground you, the way a rock always meets the bottom when it’s thrown into the depths of a lake. 

suguru’s comfort is as natural to you as the gravity that keeps the stars up in the sky.

the voice you’ve grown so used to hearing reaches your ears again, and it’s a low sound, a little raspy. but soft. achingly so, enough that you could almost miss it if you weren’t always so aware of every word that falls from his lips.

suguru looks up at the moon, in tandem with you, and lets the ghost of a smile show. ”… you know what my biggest fantasy was?”

his gaze is sincere, a little forlorn; hopelessly softened, as you meet his eyes. they’re painted over with something sweet, and something that looks just a little bit like regret.

a tilt of your head beckons him to continue, and the corners of his lips curl up further. 

”running away with you,” he breathes. ”anywhere at all. wherever you wanted to go, i’d follow.”

for a moment or two, all you can do is stare. 

you feel your lips part, but no sound comes out, nothing at all. suguru’s hair sways with the breeze, softly, and the light of the moon makes him look somewhat ethereal. like he could disappear if you blinked. 

the silence that blooms in the space between your words is fragile. precious, if a little overwhelming, as it stretches out before you — growing heavier with every passing second. so tender that it makes you feel sick to your stomach, as if the sound of the wind whistling could shatter it into pieces. 

(your heart aches, aches, aches.)

a weak laugh bubbles up from within your throat, something raw and tender hidden behind a veil of faux amusement. something vulnerable you're trying to cover up, like the glassiness of your eyes.

like a memory that never got to happen.

”what, so you’re saying we could’ve been by the seaside by now…?” you groan, forehead slumping against your knees with a bonk. ”what the hell, dude…” 

suguru lets out a chuckle, resting his jaw on the heel of his palm and looking down at you with a smile on his face. one that reaches his eyes, glimmering with something akin to starlight.

”we can still go there,” he consoles you, reaching over to tousle your hair with a palpable softness. ”to the seaside, i mean. i’ll take you.”

for a while, you don’t say anything. a pout plays at your lips, as you attempt to get your emotions under control. 

then you lean back, to lie down flat on the roof. the movement is so sudden that it stings a little when the back of your head meets the tiles, and you wince — a soft but exasperated murmur of careful comes from the boy on your left.

your elbows go to cushion your head, as you take in the immenseness of the sky. ”alright, then,” you hum. ”take me there sometime soon.”

suguru blinks. then his lips curl up. ”got it,” he chirps. mentally mapping out a nice spot, trying to remember the timetables at your local train station.

(next week, maybe. a picnic by the sea. he’ll make those sandwiches that you like.)

then he follows your lead, and goes to lie down on his back. right by your side, so close he can smell the fading scent of your shampoo, curled up right next to you. breathing out a sigh as he takes in the night sky in all its glory. 

there’s something tender, in the air. something that doesn’t need words. a kind of comfortable silence that you’ve learned to treasure, whenever suguru is with you.

so you simply stare at the dark veil over the city, in tandem with him — a pitch-black blanket sewn with stardust.

everything expands, before your very eyes; an infinite cosmos, with all the light you could ever want. the stars blink down at you, as if saying hello, mapping out the galaxy. you try to find the constellations you’re familiar with, the ones suguru have taught you about in the past, but nothing really comes to you.

it’s nice, though. just staring at the stars in wonder.

an exhale, as you breathe in, and then out. you part your lips to whisper, breaking the sleepy silence.

”the stars are so pretty….” 

suguru hums, the sound buzzing right by your ear. a soothing summer lullaby, that only you get to hear. ”yeah,” he whispers back.

a moment passes.

then you both part your lips to speak; smoothly, in a fashion that would be embarrassing if you didn’t feel so terribly safe in each other’s company. simultaneous, as the sentence tumbles from your throats.

”and so are you.”

silence. the seconds stretch on, and on. everything goes quiet.

you’re the first one to burst into laughter — deep, the kind that comes from the very bottom of your stomach. almost wheezing, as you try to catch your breath, arms snug around your shaking body. suguru follows close behind, trying to contain his laughter, but you can hear his little chuckles clear as day.

”eww, what the fuck?” you grin, shifting to lie on your side so you can get a good look at his face. ”you’re so corny!”

suguru snorts. ”i heard you say it too, dumbass.”

a little giggle flows from your lips, and you slump against his shoulder, still trying to control your breathing. suguru curls an arms around your midriff, bringing you closer. muscle memory, to make it more comfortable for you.

”haah…..”

the smile on your face shines brighter than the stars, suguru thinks, looking at you with a bleeding kind of fondness. as if you’re the only thing worth looking at.

”i hope things stay like this forever.”

the light of the moon shines down on the roof, bouncing off the white of your teeth. your canines shine in the dark as you grin, youthful — but there’s a sadness in your eyes, now. one that suguru will never fail to notice.

(one he’ll always yearn to smooth away, the same way his thumb always goes to wipe at any stray eyelashes on your skin, or crumbs at the corner of your mouth. muscle memory.)

”they will,” he assures you, reaching over to find your hand. enveloping it in his bigger one, cradling it, linking your fingers together and squeezing them softly. ”i’ll make sure that they do.”

a chuckle leaves your lips, but suguru thinks it sounds a little meek. like you still don’t believe him.

”i mean it,” he reiterates. more serious this time.

”i know,” you grin. ”but, i mean —”

a moment passes, and then your grin falters. ”you can’t promise that, though.” the expression on your face seems sort of pained, now, troubled by something. ”maybe we’ll move away from each other, or just drift apart, or —”

”that would never happen to us —”

”maybe you’ll meet someone.”

…

”a nice guy, or girl…” a sigh, as you run a hand through your hair. ”and then you’ll… i dunno. get married, i guess. and then eventually you’ll have kids, and buy a house, and —” 

a pause. in a smaller voice, you continue. almost childlike. ”you’ll leave me behind.”

suguru bites back a scoff. it takes concentrated effort. he turns to look at you, but you won’t meet his gaze, and a frown finds its way to his lips. ”… do you honestly think that’s what i want?”

another moment passes you by. more seconds lost, never to return. ”… isn’t it?”

suguru sighs, a little exasperated. maybe just a little hurt, too. ”marriage and kids aside…” he mutters, burning holes into your skin with his steadfast gaze. determined, self-assured. the tilt of his voice leaves no room for doubt. ”there’s only one person i love.”

resisting the temptation to keep your eyes away from him becomes nearly impossible — so you let your gaze trail over, and take him in. in all his glory, silky black hair framing his face, a soft look painted over his features. looking at you as if you matter, as if nothing matters except for you.

and again, something breaks out across the scope of his iris, a shooting star you don’t know what to do with. he looks so hopelessly sincere. 

for a second, all you can do is stare.

then you nod, solemnly. ”satoru, right?” you hum. ”you’re gonna break my heart if you keep bringing him up when we’re together, sugu.”

you don’t need to see his face to know that he’s giving you that unimpressed look, again. the suguru look. he rolls his eyes, and you bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling.

”i love him too, but that’s different,” he huffs.

”how so?” you prod, eyes crinkling. but there’s something a little meek about the question. he notices it, of course, because what doesn’t suguru notice?

something soft curls around his features, and a hum buzzes in his throat. a heavy tenderness bleeds into his voice. ”i wouldn’t die for satoru,” he says, simply.

a moment passes.

”… you totally would.”

”huh?” suguru blinks. ”no, of course not. are you insane?”

”suguru,” you sigh. ”you are literally the most self-sacrificial bitch i’ve ever met —”

”well, obviously i’d take a bullet or two, but —”

”what do you mean obviously —”

”— you’re the only person i’d die for.”

suguru is smiling, now. amused, sincere. almost on the verge of laughter, the sweet and soft kind that always turns your heart into a puddle. his eyes almost seem to glimmer, in the night, and it’s all you can see for a while. as you try to gather your thoughts, get the right words out.

”… always so dramatic,” you murmur, at last, a little gruff. his smile grows. you shift a little more, lying on your side to face him with a serious expression. ”don’t tell satoru that, okay? he already has it out for me. at this rate he’ll kill me and steal you away.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, deep and fond. you continue, a frown tugging at your lips. ”… and i wouldn’t want you to die for me, anyway.”

suguru lets a giggle slip, a bit too sleepy to hold it back. ”mm, i know. but if it ever came down to it, then i still would.” he shifts, too, lying on his side to face you properly.

”to me,” he exhales, and he’s so close you can smell the mint off his breath — ”as long as you’re by my side, i can make it through absolutely anything.”

the smile on his face is boyish. all teeth and crow’s feet, blooming in the light of the moon, a flower just for you. it’s perfect, you think. you don’t want a single day to pass without you seeing it. 

”me too,” you mumble, linking your pinkies together. a silent promise. ”so don’t die. ever.”

suguru’s eyes soften. 

then he hums, absentmindedly. ”… well. i mean,” he clicks his tongue. ”eventually i will. that’s not really something i have a say in.”

a roll of your eyes. ”alright, smartass,” you scoff, and suguru’s eyes crinkle with humour. ”just don’t die before i do, then.”

a hand comes to touch your skin. and it’s sudden, warm, but you don’t flinch away. suguru smooths over your cheek with the back of his hand, seemingly unable to stop himself. soothing, as he exhales a soft breath.

”… i think i’d prefer that to the alternative, honestly,” he admits.

you furrow your brows, softly. a part of you wants to protest, to call him a selfish prick — for even thinking the thought of leaving you behind without a best friend.

but something in you knows he won’t budge, on this one.

(it’s childish, in a way. stubborn, for him to take a joking conversation so seriously. but suguru doesn’t think he could even jokingly suggest that he’d survive without you.)

”seriously, though,” his voice takes on a firmer tone. ”i wouldn’t leave you behind like that. it’s us we’re talking about. you and me.” 

he says the words like they’re undeniable — because they are. there is no him without you. that’s always been the case, hasn’t it? 

suguru stops to think. do you not feel the same? there’s still a crease between your brows, a sign of worry that’s impossible to dismiss. he can’t help but wonder just how long you’ve been thinking about this; how many nights have you spent sleepless, thinking of the future? of the possibility that it entails your parting?

(the thought makes him feel a little bit nauseous.)

”are you afraid that we’ll grow apart?” he asks, into the haze of the summer night. it resounds in the air around you, softly spoken, gentle but coaxing. almost pleading you to open up to him.

and it’s a stupid question, really. 

of course you are. it’s the only thought that really scares you.

time moves so, so fast — always leaving you behind. who’s to say that suguru won’t do the same? that he won’t be taken away from you, swept away by that flow? into the future, while you stay glued to the past — stuck on the roof of your childhood, while he moves on to better things?

the night sky is infinite. sometimes, on nights that are a little too long, when your mind has grown a little too muddled, you think of suguru as a star in that sky. blinking down at you, while you can do nothing but watch. hopelessly out of reach.

gaze trailing down to rest on suguru’s collarbone, you swallow the lump in your throat. a little too vulnerable to feel comfortable with looking into his eyes, afraid of what you’ll see in them.

but he’s patient. waiting, always waiting, for you to catch up. for as long as it takes.

”… of course i am,” you mutter, at last. a weak little thing. farther down the street, a car swooshes by, drowning the sound — but suguru still hears it clear as day. ”i mean, it’s just…”

a meek intake of breath. you blink, desperate to chase away the glassiness forming in your eyes. trying to grasp control over your wavering voice. ”even if you say that we won’t… it’s not like there’s any guarantee. you can’t know for sure.”

suguru wants to stop you, right there. wants to ensure you that he does know, that it’s the only thing he’ll ever know for sure. just that one fact; you and him. never one without the other.

wherever you’d go, he’d follow — that’s how it’s always been. that’s all he’ll ever need.

but he knows you. knows you better than he knows himself. and he knows that he needs to let you speak freely, without interruption, until you’ve gotten every last worry off your chest.

so he settles for simply looking at you, curled up and biting his lip to stop himself from speaking. wishing he could smooth away the moisture in your eyes, already — but the tears need to fall first. he knows it’ll make you feel better.

”i love you,” you whisper, and suguru’s heart claws its way up his throat. ”i love you, and i want to be with you forever — but…” a shaky inhale. ”but i can’t get rid of that fear. the idea of losing you… i just can’t deal with it.”

”don’t you think i feel exactly the same?” he cuts in, softly. 

a beat. you glance up at his face, for a split second, and then back down to his collarbone. a little fragile, curling into yourself as if hiding. ”i don’t know,” you sigh.

(suguru’s heart breaks.)

”i know that you love me too, and all. and i trust you. but…” you trail off, swallowing thickly. ”you already have your future planned out, and everything. maybe i just… don’t have a place in it.”

suguru scoffs, unable to bite back the sound any longer. it’s soft, but frustrated. ”there’ll always be a place for you in my future,” he vows. ”i wouldn’t accept anything less.”

you cower a little, under the warmth of his gaze. sweet, but stern. so distinctly suguru that it makes you falter.

”besides,” he clicks his tongue. ”i don’t need to follow the future that’s been planned out for me. i just need to be suguru.” a warm smile. ”right?”

at the sound of your own words, a light flush blooms on your skin. but for once, suguru isn’t teasing you.

”and you just need to be you,” he continues, arm still wrapped around your midriff. trailing up slowly, so that his hand can smooth over the back of your head. ”that’s all.”

”as long as both of us do that — we’ll always be together.” he looks into your eyes, and you think you spot a constellation inside his iris. ”won’t we?”

another moment of silence, the familiar comfort that settles between you. there’s no pressure to continue — but you do so, anyway. muddled mind still spinning, worried about this and that, despite suguru’s soothing words. 

a part of you can’t put your faith in that kind of future. one where the two of you are together, that you could envision so clearly when you were younger — when him and you was all that you knew for certain. it’s not as simple as it was back then.

(but another part of you desperately yearns for him to prove you wrong.)

”… but,” you mumble, shaky. ”what if it’s not that easy?” a chuckle pushes past your lips, humourless. ”i mean, you can’t possibly… always stay by my side, you know?”

there’s something childish, in the way you say it. like you’re still kids, and you’re whining for him not to leave you behind. selfish, in a way.

what right do you have to chain him to you?

suguru emits a hum. his eyelids flutter shut, for a few seconds — and then he opens them again. 

”… alright,” he drawls. ”let’s make a promise, then.”

confused, you glance up at him. he just smiles — responsible, dependable. your very best friend.

”have i ever broken a promise i made to you?” he asks, and you pause.

”… no,” you answer, hesitant. voice still a tad meek, a little helpless.

(and it’s true. not once has he broken one. when suguru makes a promise, he keeps it. you’ve always, always admired that about him.)

”right?” he grins, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. admiring your moon-lit features. ”so let’s do it.”

a frown tugs at your lips. furrowing your brows at him, your voice flows out, uncertain. ”promise… what, exactly?”

the moon glows, big and bright. hanging in the sky, a beacon of light, the same as it’s always been. suguru thinks you look radiant, under its illumination — even though you’re nervous, and a little teary eyed. just a single glance at your expression is enough to make his heartbeat soften.

you look like what home feels like. 

he could never bear to let that go, to let you go. his very best friend; the one thing in his past he has no qualms about. the one thing in his future worth hanging onto, cherishing fully. no matter what.

suguru parts his lips, smiling. he links your hands together. ”keep being you,” he implores, steadfast. ”and stay by my side.”

a moment passes. 

something crumbles, inside your chest. unable to break away from his gaze, all you can do is fall deeper into the hue of his eyes, crinkling softly — in the same way they always have. he squeezes your palm in his, tightly. a silent promise not to let you go.

— and then you realize something. the same realization that always comes to you, at the end of the day.

the man in front of you is just the same as the boy you met, all those years ago. the same boy who saw you climb over his fence, and let you pet his cat, and watched whisper of the heart with you even though he wanted to start with ponyo instead.

the same boy, always the same boy, no matter how much time passes. even though he’s all grown up now, features more defined. voice deeper and huskier. hands larger, with rougher skin.

he’s changed, just like you have — but he’s still just suguru. just that cool, sweet boy. a dorky guy who never, ever lets you fall too far behind.

a tremendous softness seeps through your veins. a kind of love, old and matured, carefully nurtured. the blinks you indulge in are slow, and your eyes shine with tears. it’s overwhelming, seeing him so up close, but you still can’t look away. he’s so beautiful it hurts.

”suguru…” is all you can sniffle, meekly.

your best friend is still smiling, fondly. wrapped up in you, as close as he can be. a familiar warmth, like a big fuzzy blanket draped over your shoulders; smelling of cedarwood and earl gray, and just a hint of coconut-scented shampoo. tailor-made just for you.

suguru never breaks his promises.

”but… you can’t,” you croak out, gasping as if searching for air. ”you don’t know if —”

”i do,” he cuts you off, gently. ”i do know.”

a breathless inhale of air, as you grasp tighter onto his nimble fingers. you feel meek, lost. not sure where to put your hands, or what to believe. ”how?” you ask, terribly fragile.

suguru takes a deep breath. oxygen enters his lungs, exiting as he breathes out. a soft flicker of life. his thumb goes to wipe away the stray tear that trickles down your cheek, his touch delicate. and then comes his response.

”— because i need you the way i need air.”

and, really, it’s a sappy thing to say. a little pretentious. he’d feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the soft flicker of the moon, the intimacy of the moment. he simply couldn’t bear not to tell you the truth — even if you end up bringing it up tomorrow, just to tease him. he can deal with a little embarrassment, every once in a while. just for you.

fortunately for him, no thoughts of teasing run through your mind. maybe if you were in a better headspace, a little less of a wreck, you could muster the will to make fun of him a little. who do you think you are, shakespeare? i knew i shouldn’t have lent you that copy of romeo and juliet. — something light and amused, just to distract him from the rapid beating of your heart. 

but right now…

all you can do is take a deep breath. and you think you understand what he means, when that breath of life courses through your lungs.

”i’ll never leave you behind,” he continues, words so very self-assured that it leaves you reeling. rubbing comforting circles into the skin of your palm, without thinking. muscle memory. ”can you trust me on that?”

connected to his gaze, you stumble for something to say. anything. 

but then he smiles, again. that familiar, familiar smile. as soothing as a mother’s caress. and only one single word makes it past your lips.

”… okay.”

you do trust him. more than anyone else in the world. so you take that leap, no matter how frightening it is —

and the world narrows down to just the two of you.

just you, and him, in this one single moment. illuminated by the light of the moon, lying side by side and looking into each other’s eyes, on a roof you always find yourselves at one way or another. laughing and sharing secrets until the sun begins to rise; a silent promise that needs no words. 

(the promise of tomorrow. a summer that never quite seems to end.)

suguru cups your cheek. his touch buzzes with warmth, trickling down his wrist and through his veins — and you melt into his palm, eyes fluttering shut instinctively. the sight makes the corners of his lips curl up, hopelessly.

leaning close, he plants a kiss on your cheek. delicate, tender; his lips against your skin, a silent whisper of i love you. fervent, full of devotion. of a love that’s as steady as the sea.

”i’ll always, always be by your side,” suguru repeats, like a mantra. hoping you’ll feel his conviction through the whisper. ”you’ll always have me to fall back on. i promise.”

a little smile breaks out across your lips, meek and teary. as fragile as a sheet of glass, but still persisting in the dead of night. your voice wavers, as you raise your pinkie, right in front of his stupidly pretty face.

”pinkie promise?”

it’s a childish gesture. something to lighten the mood a little, make it all easier to chew. you expect him to roll his eyes, or raise an eyebrow, or tease you a bit. but he doesn’t.

instead, suguru raises his own pinkie, and curls it around yours. then he smiles. sweet and boyish, painted over with a rosy, tender nostalgia.

”— pinkie promise.”

and you believe him.

you believe him, because suguru has a way of making you do so, even when he has no idea what the hell he’s talking about. with that confident tilt of his voice, that makes it sound like he has all the answers in the universe — that flicker of genuine faith, in every word that falls from his lips, that tells you he truly does believe in them.

you believe him, because suguru is the only person in the world who’s never once broken a promise he made to you. not a single time. and some part of you suspects that if he ever did, he really would be okay with you cutting his pinkie off. a little frightening, the depths of his devotion. the pure loyalty that courses through his veins.

so you believe him.

you believe him because he’s suguru. and, just like you can't exist without him, he can't exist without you. never one without the other.

on instinct, you inch a little closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him extra tight. face hidden away in the crook of his neck, just like you used to do when you were kids. he’s bigger now, harder to properly embrace — but still so very, very warm. 

and he squeezes you back, just as tight. comforting and grounding, and so, so secure. tugging you closer, like he needs to have you near to properly breathe. like he needs to feel that you’re there to relax, melting into the hug with a soft sigh. relieved, that you’re still with him. relieved at the promise that you always will be. 

wherever you go, he’ll follow. to the roof of his home, to the seaside, to the ends of the earth. the same way every star in the sky orbits around the center of the galaxy, endlessly, before burning out into the night.

the smell of cedarwood and earl gray floods your senses, filling your lungs as you nuzzle into his neck. he’s warm, and soft, and your very best friend. 

you close your eyes. indulging in his body heat, every familiar sensation that’s been etched into your bones for as long as you can remember. and you can tell he’s doing the same — breathing you in, arms resting securely around your back, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

and maybe it’s true, after all. maybe suguru really does need you, just as much as you need him.

and maybe that’s all you really need to know.

the moon rests in the sky. smiling down at you, unchanging. a living proof that some things really do stay the same. 

— you hug suguru tighter, and decide that his presence is proof enough. 

#suguru geto my bicoded princess… #he could fix me. #sugu is suchhh a ghibli boy u cant convince me otherwise. his fave movies are spirited away and porco rosso #(and ponyo but hes a lil embarrassed to say it LOL… he was obsessed w sea animals as a kid. <3 now im just making stuff up but im right) #physically incapable of writing for suguru without giving him a silly reader…. unbeatable dynamic #i have other sugu childhood friends fics planned but some r. Angstier than others #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #geto suguru x you #geto hurt/comfort #geto angst #geto x reader #geto x you

[brain-rot-central]

Hey Jealousy

Rating: M/borderline E? (for now) Pairing: Spawn!A/Fem!Tav Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: NON-CANON, 18+, degrading speech, somewhat dubcon for certain parts but not totally?, adult themes, mentions of past sexual relationship, alcohol mention, alcohol use, blood mention, possessiveness, jealously, stalking, dry humping, ANGST, some fluff, bitter petty nonsense overall tbh

Summary: Astarion and Tav split at the end of the game due to a huge miscommunication. She tries desperately to move on, Astarion not so much. He finally gets ahold of her, aaaaand some messy feelings come out.

A/N - 1/28/24: Reuploading this! Not much has changed; mostly pulled it for grammatical editing purposes. Hopefully the story flows a bit better now!

The tavern is bustling with the usual weekend crowd. Upbeat music fills the air of the small establishment as this evening’s band continues their set. Drinks cascade like waterfalls into the hands and mouths of the tavern's parched patrons, each desperate for a distraction to drive out the unsettling reality of their lives, albeit for a few hours.

Astarion is perched in a corner of the tavern, circling the tip of his finger around the edge of his wine goblet. The unpleasant flavor of piss and vinegar lingers on his tongue from the spirit, mouth salivating. He sucks his teeth instinctively, trying to rid himself of the taste. 

Reaching into the pocket of his favored violet and gold doublet, he retrieves a small vial of crimson liquid. He pops off the stopper and deposits the contents into his cup, bringing the cylindrical glass to his mouth to lap up the small droplet that rolls down its side.

He hums in satisfaction as the sweet flavor spreads across his tongue, floral and lively, before returning the stopper back atop the vial. Using a single finger, he swirls the additive into his wine, bringing the goblet back to his lips for another sip. 

Ah, much better.

Surveying the bar, Astarion catches the attention of a young elven woman. She's aesthetically pleasing on the eyes - blonde hair with tan skin. Were he here for another reason, he may have tried his luck with her.

Astarion nods politely. The woman then rises from her seat, walking toward him. “Shit,” he mutters to himself, adjusting his positioning. He hurriedly repockets the blood vial within his doublet and hangs his head low just as she takes the seat at his booth, opposite him.

“Well, you’re certainly different from the usual fare,” she says, confidently. “Not often we get you teu-tel-quessir folk in here.” 

Astarion absently swirls his wine. She believes I'm a moon elf?

Assuming that she's a regular of this tavern, this woman may be somewhat oblivious. Were she not, she’d have realized this is his third visit this month alone.

Astarion decides to play into her little game - he’s compelled to see how long he can keep the charade going. “I’m but a weary traveler, just passing through,” he lies. It rolls off his tongue like the caress of an old friend. Creating a fictitious life for himself is something he’s had quite a bit of practice doing.

“Is that so? I, too, happen to be passing through here.” The woman places her elbows on the table and leans forward, giving Astarion better access to the cleavage threatening to spill over the top of her bodice. His eyes fall briefly to the woman’s chest, but he doesn’t look at her face. Not yet. “Got the room rented out upstairs for a couple more days,” she adds, tone hushed.

Sliding her hand toward his, she gently rubs her fingers over the ones he has encased around the neck of the wine goblet. Astarion shudders, not expecting such an intimate touch, and finally lifts his gaze to meet her own. “Care to make a few mistakes with me?” she asks.

Astarion snickers. He can tell part of her story is a facade, though he doesn’t care enough to discern which. 

“My apologies, love, but I’ve made enough mistakes to last a lifetime,” he replies. Pulling his hand from her, he grabs his wine by the cup, bringing it again to his lips. “I’ll have to decline.”

The elven woman softly hums in disappointment, standing up from her seat at the booth. “Such a shame,” she says, “you really are something beautiful.” She raises a hand to her lips, kissing the pads of her fingertips before extending them out toward him. Gently blowing on her fingers, she says, “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Astarion raises his cup to her and she walks off, returning to her group of friends on the far side of the tavern. He groans a sigh of relief.

Wasting little time resuming his attention on the crowd surrounding him, another is quick to catch his eye. He's seen her before - long auburn hair flowing down her back with streaks of blonde scattered throughout. She wasn't dressed in her evening best, but even so, the blouse and slacks she wore left little to his imagination.

She's sitting at the bar in the middle of the tavern, a young tiefling gentleman holding her attention at present. He’s not her usual type, Astarion notes to himself, though he remains transfixed on their interaction.This is the second man he's seen this evening trying their hand at impressing the young human woman. 

A smile forms on her lips as she converses with her current suitor. Astarion once again swirls his goblet of wine before bringing it back to his mouth for another taste.

He knows this woman, rather intimately, at that. He’s held her hair within his hands, traced the outline of her jaw with his fingertips. The smell of her skin is ever present in his mind. The saltiness of her sweat on his tongue as he lavishes her throat, the intoxicating roll of her hips against his as he bites down into the tender flesh of her neck… the rush of blood cascading down his throat.

He swallows thickly around the memory.

They've been together a handful of times throughout their travels to save the Realm from the threat of the Absolute, but that was neither here nor there, at this point.

The tiefling begins skirting his fingers along her forearm, and she leans into his touch. Astarion seethes from his place in the booth, a rush of warmth flooding his core and quickly spreading outward to each of his limbs. It’s been months since they decided on this new agreement, though his reaction is just as strong whenever another encroaches on her.

Astarion looks on as the red-head gently pats her companion’s arm before standing from her seat. His eyes follow her toward the back of the tavern. After downing the rest of his drink in one quick swing, he’s following her, careful to keep just enough distance not to rouse suspicion.

The music from the band thumps loudly in his chest as he draws closer to the crowd of people gathered before the stage. Lucky for him, they’re so entranced by the show that they hardly notice his mindless weaving, trying not to lose sight of his target. Astarion stops for a moment to refocus, looking around. It doesn’t take him long at all to zero in a glimpse of those fiery locks disappearing down a hallway off to the side.

His feet bring him to the start of the long corridor and he peers cautiously around the corner. The woman is not to be found, likely in the powder room. Astarion sighs, some of the built up tension beginning to wane from his shoulders, and comes to stand with his back against the window across from the facilities.

The residual tension within him is beginning to bleed into anxiety and doubt the longer he waits. His mind is rapidly exchanging scenarios, all of which cause his stomach to become unsettled. Gooseflesh spreads over his arms and the fine hairs covering them stand on end. Why is he doing this? They'd agreed to be friends and nothing more. It’s his fault for not being able to honor his end of the deal, he knew, but by the Gods, he simply does not care.

Since the first drops of her blood spread across his tongue, Astarion knew something within him changed. He wasn't sure if it was due to her being his proverbial “first,” but he felt… compelled by her from that moment forward. Bonded almost, in a strange way. 

In a sea of crimson, her blood would always sing loudest to him. It horrified him in the beginning, recalling memories of Cazador's puppeteering ways. The fear ebbed into compassion, after a time. As their physical relationship grew more intimate, compassion melted into an overwhelming desire to guard her. A want to protect what was his, finally his, after so many godsdamned years of pure, absolute shit.

Their… whatever it was they shared, was his. And he would gladly throw his life on the line any chance he could to insure its sustainability.

He catches a glint of red in his peripheral vision again. The human, oblivious to his presence, begins her trek back to her seat at the bar. The thought barely has time to process in Astarion’s head before his body reacts, reaching out to grab the side of her arm, pulling her back toward the wall with him.

“What the-!” the woman exclaims in shock. Her other hand comes up to begin swatting at the offending appendage. She stops midway as her eyes meet his face, recognition washing over her. “Oh, Astarion,” she says, voice flat, “what… what are you doing here?”

A practiced smile graces his lips as he releases the grip on her arm. “Am I not free to seek my own pleasure, darling?” An uneasiness begins to take root again, mind scolding him once the words leave his lips. What in the hells kind of question is that? 

Astarion clears his throat. “I was simply out for a drink before returning home when I saw what appeared to be a fire in the middle of the bar.” Unsure of what response he's hoping for, he's praying she doesn't catch onto his desperate attempt at recovery.

A quick blush spreads across her cheeks and she bows her head, giving a genuine smile. Astarion huffs out a breath in relief. 

During their time together, Astarion would often tease that her hair reminded him of a raging fire. Eventually, he adorned her with the pet name of “spitfire;” she thoroughly enjoyed solving the majority of her problems through brute force. She favored it, evidenced by a deep blush that would spread across her features.

Not unlike the one rising to her face at this very moment.

Were he honest with her, he’d tell her that this isn’t the first time he’s followed her since they parted - watched helplessly from afar as she rotated through potential nightly suitors. He chooses not to, however. Chooses to not tell her that he’s noticed every man she’s taken home has platinum hair. How they’re always of elven lineage.

She seems to buy his excuse as she visibly relaxes before him. “Oh, no, of course, Astarion,” she sighs. “It's uh, it's been a few weeks, hasn't it?” Her eyes are soft as she shifts her weight onto one hip. “How have you been?”

She's nervous, he can tell. She's doing that thing with her lip, chewing the inside of it. The rush of blood in her veins crashes and bellows in his ears as her blush settles deeper across the top of her chest.

“As well as one would imagine,” Astarion replies, “after having their heart broken.” There’s an air of nonchalance decorating his tone. A well-worn smirk tugs at his lips. He's fuming inside at the thought of another touching her, but he doesn't want to play his cards outright yet. 

No, he wants to see her squirm, wants to inflict just a touch of the torment he's experienced since their parting.

What a spiteful creature.

Her expression falls flat, jaw tensing. “I'm not sure what you mean by that,” she retorts in a meek tone. She pulls her shoulders back. "I-I thought we agreed to be friends, no?”

Astarion glances over his shoulder to see the young tiefling gentleman from before passing behind them. Their eyes meet, Astarion furrowing his brow. His jaw tightens, lips curling upward, and the peaks of his fangs are visible. He watches for the tiefling’s reaction, elated to find that the boy is clearly shaken by his display. The Tiefling turns to speak but decides against it, turning his back to the scene before him. 

Astarion sneers.

Yet another unworthy fool. 

Though… a fool who has touched her. Something he and only he should be privy to.

An inferno erupts within him.

Astarion grabs the young woman by the arm again and leads her toward the supply closet at the end of the hall, making quick work of the lock. Astarion scans their surroundings before opening the door and shoving her in, a small squeak pushed past her lips from the impact of his hand on her back. Quickly closing the door behind him, he yells, “Ignis!” a fireball lighting the lone torch in the room.

“Astarion, what-” she shouts in protest. Before the opportunity arises he’s back on her, pinning her in place to the wall with his hips. His hands fly up to cup either side of her jaw.

"Do you truly believe I meant that?" he growls low in his throat, their eyes meeting in a whirlwind. “That I only wanted to be friends?” he adds, mockingly. 

He's desperately searching her face for something, anything to show him he's not alone in this. Her tense expression stokes the fire raging within him.

Suddenly, he's spiraling.

The small voice in his head, his conscience, is yelling at him to stop - to pull back. She’s made it quite clear how she feels, you love-sick idiot. 

Logic fails him - he cannot form a single cohesive thought. Not when she's looking at him like that.

A doe caught unawares in the middle of a forest. Eyes blown wide, mouth slightly agape. Not unlike those he's hunted multiple times in the past. His chest heaves as he drinks in her expression, a wave of heat rising up within him. 

The compulsion is overwhelming, rapidly losing the battle with the rational part of his brain. Bitterness bites at the back of his throat like acid. 

He absolutely must continue.

“Is that why your home has become a revolving door?” Astarion says, watching her face shift. 

“Excuse me?” the human asks, offense evident in her tone. A rhetorical question, though he pushes forward.

“Of men who look just enough like me?” he continues, driving the thorn deeper into the woman's side.  

Suddenly, she’s stone, cold and unwelcoming. Her face twists into something sour, nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Astarion Anunín… Have you been stalking me?” she nearly yells.

Oh, he has her right where he wants her.

"The color of their hair does always match my own…” Astarion ponders aloud, head tilting to one side. “Have any of them fucked you as thoroughly as I have, darling?" he chides.

Pulling in a quick, ragged breath, the young woman shudders beneath him, her head falling forward. Her hips involuntarily twitch against the knee he’s suddenly wedged between her thighs and she whimpers, biting her lip to stifle the sound. 

“Astarion…” she groans, eyes falling closed. 

She’s upset, he knows. Yet, he’s privy to how she can barely resist the call of his body against her. Why not use that knowledge to his advantage?

A heavy flush settles across her face and she reopens her eyes, looking up at him through hooded lids. Astarion sees it then - the unabashed desire emanating from her. 

How ironic, he thinks to himself, that her eyes have a hunter green hue. At this moment she feels like prey, wrapped up in a delicate satin bow, all for him.

The remnants of his eternally damned soul sing in delight at her unraveling before him. Saliva pools thick on his tongue as he lavishes the thought of pushing forward, closing in on her.

Astarion leans toward her, cocking his head again to one side. “Hells, Tav… Did it really never occur to you that we made love the last time we were together?" he asks quietly, mouth hovering just above her lips.

Tav shivers beneath him, body writhing against the wall she's leaning against. Her hands come up to press against his chest, gripping fistfuls of his shirt as she grinds herself again on the knee between her legs. The flush on her face is so deep, practically matching the color of her hair.

“Y-you’re hardly playing fair,” she huffs out. She moans again, genuine and clear, making little attempt to subdue the noise. Astarion groans in response before closing the distance, finally capturing her lips in a kiss. 

He’s timid at first, wanting to gauge her reaction. Tav doesn't resist nor push him away, giving him the encouragement to continue. Her jaw grows pliant under him and invites him deeper into her mouth, tongues entangling for a quick moment. The kiss is brief - just enough until she settles beneath him. Both of their chests heave as they part.

Astarion’s eyes rest upon her lips before he draws his head back. His hands fall from her face and he lays his palms flat against the wall on either side of her head. 

"My biggest regret is that I lacked the courage to tell you with words..." he admits, voice trailing off. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he adds, "so, instead, I used the one tool I'm most versed with.”

Tav's pupils blow wide at the implication of his words.

Of course, Astarion used his body - used himself as an instrument. Again. To him, this is familiar territory. This is safe. 

This is all I’m good for.

"It appears I must have gotten my translation wrong," he quips.

Tav shakes her head in disagreement. “It wasn’t wrong…” 

She adjusts herself against the wall as Astarion’s leg falls back into a normal position, no longer wedged between her. 

“I was so sure… and then the morning after, I- '' She cuts herself off and swallows. “I didn’t know what to think, Astarion.”

Astarion pushes himself off the wall, taking a few steps back from Tav to give her space. 

“I don’t understand,” he begins, folding his arms over his chest. “I thought I made my position rather clear that morning. About…” He shrugs his shoulders. “Us. This.”

Huffing out a quick laugh, Tav shakes her head again, her discomfort in their current conversation mounting. “You started talking about being free, and-” 

She stops herself again, choking back a sigh. “It just seemed so selfish to ask you to be with me. You were just getting yourself back, after so long.”

Tears begin to gather at the corners of Tav’s eyes. Gently with the pads of his thumbs, Astarion wipes them clean.

“Oh, my silly little love,” he says, lowering his face to place a chaste kiss upon her forehead. “How I wish you would have spoken to me first.”

Tav’s hands come up to cover his, removing them from her face. “I think… I think I need to go,” she tells him, urgently. 

Nodding in silent agreement, Astarion lets her dip out from under him, seeing her inch closer toward the door. 

Before she grips the door’s handle, she turns to look at him. “...Can we talk more about this?” She quickly gestures to their surroundings before adding, “In a better situation, maybe?”

Astarion can only sigh, chest rising and falling heavily. “Of course, my dear. Do you have a particular place in mind?”

Her eyes fall to the floor. Tav knits her fingers together nervously, rubbing her thumbs over the other. “Well… where are you staying?”

A quick laugh escapes his throat and he averts his gaze. His voice is soft and tender as he focuses on a broom leaning against the corner of the wall behind her, “...I went home.”

Tav furrows her brow before asking, “What do you mean by home?”

“Home, to Cazador’s,” he states, devoid of emotion. Astarion’s eyes fall back onto her, watching as she adjusts her posture.

“It’s not as though I know much else,” he continues. “I lack the gold or the ability to work. I have only what I’m able to pilfer off the unassuming, and I’ve grown tired of playing such a role.” 

Astarion sighs heavily again before adding, “There are a number of… resources available to me, now that Cazador is gone. It would be foolish of me to squander them.”

Tav only nods in his direction, her expression falling flat. “Alright,” she says, “I’ll meet you… there, I guess.” She unlaces her hands and turns around, heading back toward the door.

“Tavaria,” Astarion calls to her as she wraps a hand around the door handle again, freezing in place at the use of her full name. “If you do decide to visit me, you’re going to need the passcode for the tower door.” 

Looking over her shoulder, Tav waits for him to continue. Moments pass between them, the air growing thick and stale within the small closet. When she doesn’t speak, he pushes forward. 

“It’s spitfire,” Astarion tells her.

He hears more than sees the small inhalation of breath she takes as his words register. Turning her head forward again, Astarion watches her finally twist the knob to the door, pushing it open. Tav steps out of the closet, looking at him briefly before disappearing down the corridor of the tavern.

Astarion slumps against the cool stone of the supply closet wall, light now pouring through the open doorway. His head is throbbing, an uneasy ache beginning to take root deep within his chest.

What a day.

#astarion #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfic #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion angst #jealous astarion #possessive astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion romance #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff

[blueteller]

Cale's Super Rock Villa Has a Deeper Meaning

So, I was re-reading the Caro Kingdom fight against the White Star recently (around chapter 450) since it's a super underrated fight… so much stuff I forgot from that part. Like, Mary actually using a dead mana sword?? That's so freaking cool!!

Anyway, the reason I bring it up is because there's an important detail about KRS's past there, which I totally missed before!

As Choi Han attacks the White Star in TCF Chapter 453, he recalls a flashback from CJS's life:

After struggling at work with Kim Rok Soo when he first entered the company, he headed home right away after finishing work for a while after he got used to the work. There were colleagues who wanted him to join them after work because he was a friendly guy, but he always declined and headed to his own place. Only Kim Rok Soo and the team leader knew the reason he had to go straight home. Honestly speaking, his home wasn't much. The company that was located in Seoul was located around the central border of the destroyed area and the still somewhat intact area and Choi Jung Soo's house was around there as well. His house was a small one bedroom in a building that was barely maintaining its shape as a villa. The building looked old like the buildings in a movie about the apocalypse he wanted before the world changed, but the people living inside were happy.

GUYS. DID YOU CATCH THAT? KRS LIVED IN A VILLA!!

And old, crumbling villa where he owned only one bedroom – but that's not the freaking point!!

First of all – KRS liked Super Rock Villa so much because it reminded him of his old home! That's just so sweet. He's such a sentimental guy...! 😭

But that's not what I want to focus on. Yes, there were the Henituse villa and the Harris Village as well, but... Super Rock Villa is different. As something that Cale inherited, by himself, it represents something more than merely a house to live in.

Think about it: the state of the two villas Cale lived in... it's like an allegory to his previous life VS his new life!

In his old life, he lived among the very people he protected, but he kept distance from them. It wasn't a physical distance – since he was living in the same building as them – but he didn't make any friends with his neighbors. Just like with his co-workers, KRS enjoyed their happiness from the sidelines... because KRS was cursed and doing his best to stay away in order to protect them 💔

But! BUT! In his new life, when he got Super Rock villa, not only was it in pristine condition – in contract to the old one which was falling apart – but the first thing he did, was fill it with living beings!!

...Sure, he also did that stupid in-denial internal monologue how he's doing it because he wants them to protect him. But we all know Cale is a shameless liar by this point; even to himself. ...Especially to himself.

So basically: Cale did that because he WANTED TO LIVE AMONG HAPPY PEOPLE AGAIN

Except this time – he was a part of that family!!

The whole Wind Island's test of fear later re-affirms the idea completely. Cale's biggest fear is the Super Rock villa being empty. The happy home meant for friends and family becoming their grave.

The Super Rock Villa is so much MORE to Cale than merely a cool rich house to live in. It directly represents the state of his life and family 😭

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #cale henituse #cale #tcf cale #tcf analysis #character analysis #super rock villa #tcf meta #see things like that is why i adore this novel so much #there's just so much to dig into once you start paying attention #cale is such an interesting person with so many complexities to his past and behaviours and choices #i love it

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 4

Special thanks to @magicalstripedhorse, who helped keep this installment on track. :)

-----

“Oh no,” Kara drawls the moment she steps out onto the stoop of her building eight days later. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Lena smirks, leaning casually against the side of an old beat up pick up truck. The red ball-cap on her head is just as worn, its frayed bill extending backwards from Lena’s head.

“Flannel? Really?” Kara eyes the shirt in question where it’s tied around Lena’s waist. “Can you be any more of a lesbian?”

Lena spreads her hands. “We’re going to a farmer’s market,” she says. “What did you expect? An LBD?”

“Hm,” Kara hums, bouncing down the steps to greet her girlfriend with a kiss. “Maybe for dinner later.”

She definitely wouldn’t mind seeing Lena in a little black dress. Her mind conjures up an image that very nearly makes her pull Lena back upstairs, but the call of fresh fruit and vegetables proves to be too strong.

“All right, Tegan and Sara, let’s get going.”

The drive is somewhat familiar, as Kara has been to the farmers market before, but it’s been a while and it takes longer than Kara remembers. She’s not mad about it though– it gives her time to catch up with Lena about their weeks, which are relatively tame for a week in the life of first responders.

Lena had a few oven fires, a serious case of whiplash during a fender bender, and not one, but two cats stuck in a tree. Definitely tops Kara’s days of petty larceny, jaywalking, and a single wellness check. But she knows better than to comment on the relative slowness– the moment it’s acknowledged is the moment the sky starts to fall.

Just when the city gives way to suburbs, Lena turns the truck into a graveled parking lot. Kara takes note of the cars already there, and the thin stream of people already circulating through the stalls. It’s only mid-morning, and she expects the crowd will only grow as the day progresses. 

“Come on,” Kara calls as she hops out of the truck, slamming the dusty door behind her. “I need asparagus.” 

She gets her asparagus, and much more. She snags an artichoke and some lettuce as well as some strawberries she makes a note to prep for the next time Lena comes over. Lena splits away for a short moment, and comes back with fava beans and a joke about a nice chianti that makes Kara laugh.

Produce leads to cuts of various meats out of coolers. Lena nudges her. “You like steak?”

Kara’s mouth waters. “Oh, yeah.”

Lena requests two prime ribs, and tucks them and a slab of bacon into her tote alongside her fava beans. By the time they get to the baked goods and crafts, Kara’s own bag is sitting heavy in the crook of her elbow. She moves it to her shoulder instead, and has just prodded Lena towards a live herbs vendor when a call splits the air.

“Hey, Sarge!” 

Kara turns on instinct, and to her surprise Lena does as well. The expectant set of her features strikes Kara as odd, but she focuses her attention instead on who might have called for her. She doesn’t recognize any of the oncoming faces, which makes her frown.

“Sarge!” 

The crowd parts just long enough for a man in a wheelchair to roll out from the throng of people. His face is round and creased with joy as he coasts towards them, but Kara pulls back slightly when she doesn’t recognize him.

Lena steps forward. “Hey, Gonzales.”

Kara watches stunned as she extends her hand and engages in a sort of handshake with the man– palms, backs, and a fist bump top and bottom. Clearly, Lena is more than familiar with the man. Kara’s gaze darts back and forth between them, taking in Lena’s easy smile and the man’s eager countenance, which had yet to dim even when he turned his gaze to Kara.

“Yo,” Gonzales says with a grin. “When Jess said you stopped by the bar with a new lady friend, I knew she must have been a looker, but damn, Sarge–”

“Watch your mouth, Corporal.”

Kara steps up to introduce herself. “Sergeant, huh?” she says, smirking. Lena has yet to return to the subject of her time in the service, so Kara is thrilled to have even just her rank. “Who’d’a thunk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gonzales confirms. “The sergeant here was the best damn medic in the company. Saved our unit’s ass more than a couple times.” He rolls forward a few inches to offer a handshake. “Hector Gonzales, ma’am. Pleasure to meet one of the Sarge’s lady friends.”

“Police Sergeant Kara Danvers,” Kara returns. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Corporal.”

The man waves her off. “Please, it’s just Hector or Gonzales now. Gotta get used to the civvie life now. Right, Sarge?” 

Lena rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure.”

“You said you’re Jess’ brother?” Kara briefly scans Gonzales and notes an above the knee amputation and a serious burn scar on his right arm that stretched from his wrist to disappear under the sleeve of his t-shirt. 

Hector nods enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!” He shoots a bright look towards Lena. “Did she tell you she got early admission to NCU? Honors track.”

Lena beams. “No, she didn’t! That’s wonderful!”

“First choice and everything. She’ll be the first one in the family to go to college, you know.” 

“What is she planning to study?” Kara asks.

Hector’s grin is infectious. “Art. Our mother wanted her to be a lawyer, because that girl argue like nothing else, but she's had her sights on art from the beginning. Sarge has seen some of her drawings, when she sent some to me overseas. Remember Sarge?”

Lena nods. “They were pretty amazing.” 

Kara smiles, but a tug of sadness pulls at some of her joy for Jess. She’d almost gone to art school once. That had been the goal, before the shooting. After everything that happened… well, she hasn’t picked up a brush in a long time. 

“Hey,” Hector says, pulling Kara’s attention back to the conversation. “I’m getting some friends together to watch the game next weekend. You guys should come!”

Kara has no idea what game he means, or even what sport, but Lena nods. “Yeah, shoot me the details and we’ll try to make it.”

“Wilco, Sarge. Oh! And you can invite any of your folks from the firehouse too. I can tell them how lucky they are to have you.”

Lena’s cheeks flush pink. “Gonzales, I swear to god–”

“Hector!” A young hispanic woman calls from further down the aisle. “You were supposed meet me at– oh!” 

“Cecilia!” Hector waves at her, beckoning her closer. “C’mere, this is the Sarge!” 

Cecilia’s go wide. “Oh! Sergeant Reilly! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Lena’s easy smile widens. “Uh oh,” she groans comedically. She reaches for Kara, drawing her forward into the conversation. “This is Kara.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Kara offers gamely. They exchange handshakes, with smiles all around. Kara revels in being included, but even more so in the sense that she’s being allowed a further glimpse into who Lena is. 

Hector and Cecilia are sweet together. Hector is engaged and enthusiastic, while Cecilia is a little more reserved. But Lena converses easily, laughing and grinning, totally at ease in the presence of her fellow soldier. Eventually, Cecilia reminds Hector that they’re almost due to be somewhere else. 

“Right, right,” Hector nods. He prepares to roll away, but pauses to peg Lena with a stern gaze. “Game, next weekend. You’ll tell your crew?” 

Lena nods with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Good catching up, Gonzalez. Take it easy.”

“You too, Sarge! Rolling out!” 

Lena watches them head off, then turns back towards Kara with a chagrined roll of her eyes. Her mouth opens, but Kara cuts her off. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she warns. “He was delightful.”

“Yeah,” Lena agrees. “He’s a good guy. Him and Jess both. They’re good eggs.”

“And besides, anyone who adores you like he does is definitely good in my book.”

This time, Lena’s roll of her eyes are directed at Kara. “Ah yes. Remind me to not let you two in a room alone. Who knows what shenanigans you’d get into–”

Suddenly a cry further down the aisle breaks through the buzz of people. Without conscious thought, or even a look between them, Kara and Lena both begin to push towards the call. Breaking through the circle already starting to form, they find a young woman seizing on the ground. 

Lena immediately kneels beside her, smoothly untying her flannel and folding it as a pillow to pad the woman’s head against the pavement. “Calling a bus,” Kara says briefly, already pulling her phone out to dial. 

“Hold up,” Lena calls, her voice firm with easy authority. “Got a medical alert bracelet here.” She flips the silver tag to read the inscription, then nods to herself. “No ambulance. Known condition.”

Kara nods her acknowledgement, pocketing her phone as she crouches. “What do you need?”

“Some water would be good, if you can find it.”

“On it,” Kara confirms, rising back to her feet. But the time she returns with a bottle of water from a nearby vendor, the girl’s seizing has stopped. She answers Lena’s questions with slurred, mumbling responses, but Lena doesn’t look concerned.

“Okay, Lydia, you’re doing great. Just take your time.” 

Kara kneels to one knee, handing over the bottle of water. “Any chance she hit her head?”

“I’ll evaluate once she’s a little more with it. So far nothing concerning.” She glances towards the lingering crowd. “Could you get us some space?”

The remaining onlookers moved on once Kara started waving them away, assuring them the situation was handled. When the last resume their shopping, Lydia is blinking up at Lena with eyes rapidly sharpening with focus.

“Welp. That’s embarrassing,” she delivers drolly, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“There you are,” Lena says, gently giving Lydia’s shoulder a pat. “Lydia, my name is Lieutenant Riley with the National City Fire Department. Do you feel ready to sit up? I’ve some water here I’d like you to sip.”

Lydia manages to sit upright with only a little bit of an assist from Lena. She accepts the open water bottle with both hands, which tremble as they lift the water to her lips. She takes several long gulps before groaning.

“Do you mind if I check your head for bumps?” Lena asks. “We want to make sure you didn’t hit your head on the way down.”

Lydia nods her consent, and holds still as Lena begins to investigate the back of her head with expert fingers. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Lydia quips. When she catches Kara’s sympathetic gaze, she continues. “It’s still relatively new. My doctor says it should get better with medication, but… ugh! All I wanted was some asparagus!” She sighs. “At least I felt this one coming on– managed to sit down before it hit.”

Lena pulls away, placing her hands on her knees as she gives her patient a warm smile. “Well, I didn’t find any bumps or lumps, so it looks like that did the trick. Good thinking.”

“Oh god,” Lydia groans. “You didn’t call an ambulance, did you?”

“Nope.” Lena nods towards the girl’s wrist. “Medic alert did its job.”

“Thank goodness,” Lydia sighs in relief. “I seriously can not afford another trip.”

Lena chuckles, rubbing Lydia’s back. “I can imagine. How do you feel about trying to stand? I’d feel better if we got you to some shade.”

She gives Lydia a hand up, who seems steady on her feet. Once satisfied the girl wasn’t about to keel over, Lena nods towards a small patch of trees. “How about that bench over there?”

Kara hovers, adrift without a way to help. She carries hers and Lena’s bags of goodies along with her as they all move towards the bench. 

“How are you feeling?” Lena checks in once they’re seated.

Lydia pauses, taking stock. “Just tired, I think. Always feel like I got hit by a freight train, but it usually goes away.” She glances at Lena. “You guys seriously don’t have to stay.”

“I’d feel better if we did. Just until you feel well enough to finish up and get yourself home.” 

“Okay.” Lydia stares at the open water bottle resting on her thigh, then looks back to Lena. “You said you were a firefighter?”

“And medic,” Kara offers, unable to keep quiet. Lena’s eyes flash at her, but in affection or irritation, Kara can’t tell. 

Lydia’s eyes spark with interest. “I want to go to med school after undergrad. I don’t know what discipline yet, though.”

Kara listens to them converse for several minutes, propping herself up against the nearest tree. Closing her eyes against the sun, she breathes deep the smell of spring blossoms and fresh cut grass, letting the hum of their voices lull her to a state between waking and sleeping. Well, maybe more asleep than not, considering the bench is empty when she next blinks her eyes open. Lydia is nowhere to be found, and Lena is sitting on the ground beside her, scrolling through her phone. 

“You could have woken me up,” Kara gripes half-heartedly. 

“But it’s such a nice day to lean against a tree,” Lena returns, half teasing. 

Kara reaches over until she finds Lena’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Neither of them move to rise. 

“You were amazing just now.”

Lena merely shrugs. “Anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“We both know there aren’t many people who can do what you do.”

A hum answers her, but Lena refrains from saying anything else. Kara bites back a frown. She knows Lena doesn’t feel comfortable sharing anything about her time overseas as a combat medic– not entirely unexpected. Some of Kara’s veteran coworkers feel the same. And not all first responders respond well to positive recognition, which isn’t uncommon in the first responder community either. But Kara can’t shake the feeling in her gut that she heard a note of shame in Lena’s voice.

Whatever it is, Kara resolves to know it better, no matter how long it takes. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Lena asks quietly. “I think I hear a steak dinner calling your name.”

Kara grins, but closes her eyes and leans her head against the tree behind her once more. “Just a few more minutes.”

She hears Lena smile, then a rustle as Lena leans back as well. 

A good day indeed.

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #the farmers market episode #they're lesbians harold

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Seventeen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Okay! Hi!:) Just have to say thank you for all the love you lot keep showing this series, it’s so mad and so very appreciated. Honestly makes me want to carry on writing. But I also wanted to add a quick warning to this update.. There is a lot going on, we finally get what we’ve been waiting for!! But there are other topics that also come into play. SO that being said please read the warnings below.

Warnings: Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse (past tense), as well as sobriety, also a previous death, bit gruesome but needed- this relates back to a conversation held between Matty and Jamie in Part Eight.

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

She never did call.

Matty waited, and then waited some more. He fidgeted the rest of the day, smoked his way through a pack of fags when they’d been down at the studio, and then nursed a single pint after having allowed the guys to bully him into one of the local pubs.

It wasn’t until much later that night that he heard anything from her at all, and it hadn’t been a call, but instead a text.

Messages now Squeaks xx I listened to it 

He’d been cooped up in his office since the second he’d gotten home, looking through a couple of older demos and other sound clips in hopes that he’d find something that would fit with the current sound of their new album. George had been on his case about it all, claiming he’d been too spaced out as of late, so Matty had huffed but ultimately followed through.

Songbooks from years before were piled up high on his desk and on the floor, pages full of chords and scribbled lyrics cluttered the rest of the space, but he continued on, using it to distract him from the torturous wait.

When his phone finally did buzz, Matty had almost decided not to answer it, figuring that it would just be a message from Jamie, or maybe his mum. He was still waiting for that ring. But fuck was he glad that he’d taken a glance. Otherwise he might’ve missed it.

Are you busy?

The next text had come through almost a minute after the first, as though she’d been debating sending it. Matty frowned down at the screen, pushing away from his desk slightly.

She’d heard it.

She’d heard the demo. 

He didn’t quite know how to feel about that, or what to take from her clipped response. It was why he had essentially asked her to call him, because at least then he would’ve been able to somewhat determine what she’d thought about it, how she might’ve felt.

His tongue slid between the row of his front teeth in thought, staring down at the messages he’d received whilst his thumbs hovered over the keyboard looking for something to say.

Can you come over?

His fucking breath got caught in his throat just reading that, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth. Matty didn't even think before he hastily answered her, worried she might take it all back.

Give me ten minutes.

He could do ten minutes. 

Fuck it. He’d fucking speedtail it out of here and try for five if it meant that she’d just let him in again. The last week had been painful enough, no need to fucking prolong it.

So that was what he did, throwing on the first pair of trainers he’d found in the hallway and grabbing at the car keys he’d tossed down on the counter months earlier. Forgetting about the album and the work he’d planned to do, along with whatever else that had seemed so important just a second ago.

She called and he would come running.

…

It was pissing down by the time he made it to her place.

Headlights on and ignition still running, Matty went to make his escape from the driver's seat, practically vibrating with the anticipation of it all. But he did momentarily pause to yank the keys from beneath the wheel before eventually scrabbling his way out of the sidedoor, feet immediately dropping into the murky puddle sat beneath. 

He’d parked like a fucking dickhead, halfway onto the curb and his boot sticking out into the empty street, but he could care less about it as he jogged around the front of the car and up the first few steps to her door.

There was blood rushing in his ears, filling up his head and making him dizzy with it all. He raised a fist to knock, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

He’d gotten there in just under seven minutes. 

His heart was pounding like mad. 

He knocked. 

It was minutes or maybe seconds before he heard a slight scuffle on the other side. Before the hallway light turned on and peered through the painted window pane sat atop the familiar front door. 

The chain fell with a clang and Matty swallowed, watching on as the hinges creaked, revealing her face.

She stared up at him, standing in a pair of pyjamas he remembered seeing on a late night call of theirs, her hair all tied up in one of those pretty buns, soft curls escaping at the sides.

Her lips parted with her next breath, the sound of it jumped out at him and Matty couldn’t really hold back anymore. It had been six months. Six whole months. Almost to the day they’d met... Back when he’d been cocksure and arrogant. When he’d still been reeling from another stint in rehab, and from the stunt before the summer, and from Luke’s death.

Matty paused. 

He hadn’t really thought about Luke so easily. Not ever. Not since that night. Not in passing.

But she was currently staring back at him. Her eyes wide and tired. Shining in the light of the street lamps that crowded the street outside. 

Matty stepped forward, reaching for her. 

“Tell me to stop.” He muttered. 

She didn’t. 

And so his hand found the edge of her jaw, fingers nestling into a place at her hairline, skimming the tip of her ear.

“I can’t.” She answered him. Always so full of truth. 

And Matty, Matty was a selfish man. He’d been a selfish kid, too. A bratty teenager. A hellish son and an even worse boyfriend. Always so egotistical, so bold, so brazen. But even more so, selfish. 

He would take and take. And this moment was no different. He took.

Her mouth met his with an agonising fever, and there was an eager sigh that escaped in the breath shared between them that Matty couldn’t really determine if was his or hers.

She let him in so easily, let his tongue roam. She let him pull her close, let his hand find purchase on her hip and hear her moan. 

It was a whimper of a thing, a sound that was swallowed up by his mouth as he consumed her again. But it fuelled that fire within him, that heat which had been simmering so close to the surface of his skin for weeks, months now. 

“Mouse.” Matty said shakily, walking her backwards, further into the flat, where their feet shuffled over the hardwood floors. The door swung shut behind them and rattled in the silence before he was spinning and pressing her shoulders up against its cold wood. 

“Matty.” She breathed back to him, fingers catching on his neck, then his jaw, winding their way up into his hair. Tugging. 

A grunt escaped him and he pressed harder with it, teeth catching on her teeth, hands moulding into her skin. 

She tasted of something sweet, it coated the length of her tongue and melded well with the cigarette he’d lit on his way over. He wanted to taste more of it, found his nose pressing against the skin of her cheek in an attempt to do so. 

It was a second later that he felt himself rut up against her, accidentally mind, but the zip of his jeans tugged at the band of her bottoms and the movement made him realise he was hard. Had been half-way there from the moment she had texted him, but now, in her hallway, with her grinding up against him, and with those pretty little sounds she let slip, it was almost painful.

“Squeaks.” He managed to force out and she swallowed her own name right up, one arm wrapping around the length of his shoulders whilst the other tugged at the nape of his neck. 

Matty followed her demands effortlessly, a hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to feel at the warm skin hidden beneath, a calloused thumb brushing against the jut of her hip.

He explored, felt the edges of rigid flesh she kept hidden and out of sight, the freckles that lingered and dotted her torso, then wedged his knee between her legs. Hands grabbing at the backs of her thighs. 

One of her knees rode up higher on his side as he shifted even closer, letting her use him like a makeshift ladder to lift herself further up in the little space which stood between him and the door. 

He rutted again and the joint of her knee tightened by his hip, the heel of her foot digging into the back of his leg, forcing him even nearer. He grabbed at the swell of her arse, noting the way she arched into him at the touch. How her stomach tensed. 

It had just been pissing it down outside, he recalled belatedly, but her warmth in that moment seemed to dry up the remaining raindrops caught in his hair and along the shoulders of his coat. His fingertips pressed harder into her thighs at the thought, feeling the bottom of her shirt ride up higher between them upon catching on the zip of his jacket. 

She nipped at his lip, then his jaw, hands all but clawing at his neck and his back.

“Squeaks.” He tried again, brain hazy with want but needing to do this right. He had to do this right. “Squeaks.” Again he said, a plea within a shared breath between them, “Baby, please.”

She retreated all too quickly, letting him go with a sharp inhale. Lids heavy with avidity as she blinked back at him. 

Matty realised then that he’d had her pinned to the door, crowded against the wood and practically having lifted her up off of her feet. He swallowed thickly at the sight and willed his dick to calm the fuck down. But it had been way too fucking long. 

He was unhurried in the way he shifted beneath her before carefully letting her go, unwinding the leg he held at his hip before she slid slowly down his front. Feet hitting the cold wood floors with a soft thud.

He blinked and gone was that selfishness they had just shared, that immediate heat, and suddenly she was all wary, shy almost. Matty reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before he steeled himself and finally took a step back.

“You came.” She murmured after a breath, and had his mind been in better shape he’d have been quicker with his quip.

But yet, he was left drifting in between the heady thrill and the uneventful come down they’d shared. 

He blinked slowly at her. Could see that the hallway light was the only one on, but somewhere, further down the hall, a soft glow from one of her many lamps crept its way past a door. 

“You said you’d call.” He found himself saying in reply, though it wasn’t the reprimand he’d thought it was. 

Her smile was soft then. Fond. 

His breath caught at the sight of her, still laboured from the minute before.

“After.” Squeaks whispered in recall. And Matty heard himself repeat it, “After, you said.”

She took a small step closer to him, the padding of her feet echoed in the narrow walkway. Matty’s hands twitched at his sides.

He saw her throat bob. 

“Tea?” She questioned, and Matty was both thankful and resentful for the quiet offer. 

He nodded, blinking owlishly at her. 

They stood there, not moving, for a long moment. The sound of a car passed, then the scuffle of a person or two outside, as well as the far off yap of a neighbouring dog. And still they just stood there, staring.

She took another step nearer and Matty attempted not to react to the way her fingers caught on the front of his coat, memorising the careful way she started to peel it off of him, turning so that she could claim it and then hang it off some place to the side. He looked at her the whole while, scared to take his eyes off her, in truth.

He licked at his lower lip when he caught her staring too and captured her hand in his when she went to step around him. 

“Tea.” He reminded himself and she smiled, eyes flickering across the length of his face. As though she was seeing him for the first time.

“Tea.”

…

Her kitchen always felt so homely. 

She had spices fixed to a rack on the wall, wound in growing ivy attached to the potted plant that sat on the windowsill beside it. Her fridge was dotted in magnets and polaroids, and a drawing of Teddy’s hung front and centre. The table was always so neat, though still cluttered with the odd crayon and lego piece, a bowl of fruit was perched in the very middle. She had one of those kettle cosy’s too, a knitted one that reminded Matty of days spent at his nana’s house when he was just a boy. 

His favourite part of all of it though, had to be her. 

He stood in the doorway and just watched as she puttered about the space, flashbacks of previous visits coming back to him. She had this easy grace about her, an elegance he always seen but could never quite make out. She was a piece to many puzzles in the way she typically held herself, so ready to fight and so willing to wilt, but in that moment she just was.

And Matty could hardly tear his eyes away from her, from the length of her back to the curve of her waist. The taste, the memory of her still coating his tongue.

He’d kicked off his shoes before he could trail a messy track throughout her home, so his footsteps were quiet when he finally crossed the kitchen tiles. He paused just behind her, his hands falling to her hips whilst his chin dropped to rest on her shoulder.

She allowed it. Picking up the kettle to pour over two mismatched mugs, he simply watched her work.

It was a difficult task not allowing his hands to wander, or to keep his mouth from pressing against the pulse in her neck, but he withheld, content to just hold her. Humming when she picked up the milk and thinking over the last day they’d spent together. That night at his.

They moved over to the table not long after, her kitchen blinds were still open so the moon gifted them all the light they needed. Matty kept close, knocking his knees against hers at the very corner of the table, unwilling to go without.

She was quiet still whilst she danced a finger around the rim of her steaming brew, Matty was mesmerised by the delicate motion.

A hum of hers broke the silence they had since settled in, the softness of it causing him to blink and look up, immediately recognising the faint tune of the demo he’d sent her.

He smiled, his eyes caught on to the one she wore too. Practically conspiratorial.

His legs reached outwards to capture one of her ankles between his feet, her gaze flickered back and forth between both his eyes. He wondered what she saw in them, what she made of him.

“I’m guessing you liked it then.” Matty spoke, voice ever so low, still scared to break their languid solitude.

Mouse dipped her chin in a nod, peering up at him through dark lashes that made him want to catch her by the neck and pull her in again. He knew what she tasted like now, he felt as though it would forever haunt him.

“Thank you,” She whispered after, fingers cupped around the bottom of her mug. His brow furrowed.

“For what?”

She smiled again, blinking at him sweetly, “For my gifts, for always being so lovely, for sending me that song.”

Matty snorted, knowing that the last thing he could possibly be was lovely.

Fingertips touched his chin then and she guided his face back up to meet hers, he hadn’t realised he’d even looked away. But it was then that he was reminded of that night in his own kitchen, crowded between her legs and the counter, her kind eyes. You’re enough.

“Was it for me?” She questioned, watching him closely again. Something she tended to always do. “‘Cause that kiss, it sort of made it feel like it was for me.”

Matty grinned, eyes squinting with the strength of it. 

It was so easy- too easy, even- for her to make him smile like that, and he couldn’t even begin to decide whether he loved or hated the fact that she had the ability. 

“Yeah, Squeaks. It was for you.”

Her cheeks dimpled in an attempt to dim the smile she then wore, elbows pressing against the table’s edge, her foot resting on top of his own. “Good.” She murmured, leaning in closer now.

“Good?” He chuckled, following the motion. Eyes caught on the curve of her mouth.

“Uhuh,” She breathed into the small space between them, nose brushing against the side of Matty’s own. “Really good.”

He laughed again, low and breathy this time around, before he finally closed the distance and kissed her for a second time.

She laughed too, smiling against his lips.

–

For an insomniac, the dark was a place full of many contradictions.

Matty had spent countless hours staring up at all types of ceilings, in all sorts of places, and in all kinds of countries. But hers, he reckoned, was possibly his favourite. As most things had come to be in the short time he’d spent with Mouse.

Because even as she slept on beside him, bundled in the duvet and a blanket that smelt of her, he didn’t stress over the fact that he was still wide awake. 

His mind was too preoccupied to stress. Just thinking back to the expression she’d worn when she’d first opened the front door. To the breathy gasps that had escaped her in the hallway. The way she’d gently carded her fingers through his hair after she’d lured him into bed. Promising to talk more tomorrow.

He thought of Luke then, as well. As he often did whenever the darkness plagued him.

The fucker would be laughing if he could just see him now, obsessing and all soppy over some bird. Smiling away to himself in the dark.

But Matty knew that he’d be happy too. Glad that he was finally getting back on the right track. Actually trying this time around. Because Luke had known the hardships of addiction just as well as Matty had- it was what had killed him in the end, wasn't it.

He could still picture his face, both before and after the fall. One second they’d all been grinning on that roof, high as kites and drunk out of their minds, having the time of their lives, and then his had hit the concrete.

Matty’s stomach rolled at the thought.

At the eerie silence that had followed.

He’d been struggling that night, trying to get clean, to stay clean. And they’d only gone to the party, Luke and Danny, to appease him. Luke, having tagged along wanting to look out for him, to make sure that he didn’t get too caught up in anything he couldn’t get himself out of.

Luke had been sober three months at that point. Clean of the drugs and the drink. All of it. He’d drank that night though, the party had been at one of his dodgier mates places and he wouldn’t have been able to have stayed in the clear.

Matty remembered egging him on, telling him to live a little. To have a beer. A shot. And then another. And another. Someone else had offered him that line though.

He’d been hammered by the time some idiot had come up with that dare and they’d all thought it had been a sick idea to try and walk the length of the roof. Like they were at Zippo’s sodding circus.

Luke had been doing so good. Matty had known it too. What with his first EP coming out that September, something which Jamie had made happen, and his new flat that he’d not long moved into. Away from the familiarity of street corners he knew far too well and faces of dealers that he’d seen time and time again before.

He’d been good. Been going steady.

Then he was just dead.

Matty didn’t close his eyes then, even as they began to water. Didn’t want to see him like that. Knew that he would if only he shut his eyes. Because he couldn't stand to see the reminder, the life that had left him too quickly.

A slight sniff broke him from his thoughts then and he stilled as Mouse moved and turned in her sleep.

He let himself breathe a little easier once she’d settled again, tucking her face into the crook of his shoulder and nestling further into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, needing her close, and then finally allowed his eyes to fall shut, burying his face in the top of her hair.

He wondered if she’d let him stay from now on and pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

He hoped that she would, listening to the quiet that hummed throughout the rest of her flat as his mind began to let go of what consciousness it had once clung on to.

‘Tomorrow’ was his final thought before he eventually drifted off. It had been a long time since he’d thought that he’d ever make it to a tomorrow.

–

It was a grunt I woke up to. The heavy and unfavoured kind, the type that was only ever forced out of you when you received a hefty blow to the stomach.

I felt my face wrinkle as I pressed in closer to the warmth beside me, unhappy to have been woken. But then I heard a whisper, followed by a giggle, which had me blinking blearily and peering up at the toddler now towering over me.

“Wake now?”

“Teddy.” I heard someone else laugh right above my head, and I was quick in the way I looked up, recognising that the warmth I’d been clinging to had been Matty all along. “You’re an actual monster, you know that?”

Teddy squealed happily when Matty tickled his sides, but seemed content with his place on the man’s stomach and the fact that Matty was here at all. 

I wanted to groan at the very idea, I hadn't much thought this through. Not when I’d heard the song, thinking back to the night I’d spent at his, the fight we’d had, the way he’d held Teddy and promised him that things would soon be alright.

It hadn’t felt real. It still didn’t.

“Wake?” Teddy said to me again and I had to give a soft laugh when I felt his finger prod at my cheek, which was probably marked with the line of Matty’s t-shirt now. “Yeah?”

I chuckled again, peering up at him. “Yeah, I’m awake.” I replied, smiling before I rubbed at my eyes.

Matty’s arm seemed to be tucked up under me because it twitched a tad when I moved. I grimaced at the loss of feeling he must have experienced and murmured a quiet “Sorry,” shuffling over slightly so that I could free the limb. But he merely laughed to himself before his hand came up to rub at my arm, keeping me close. 

“It’s fine.” Matty replied, his voice tinged with sleep and grainy from lack of use, but then he winced and flexed his fingers, “Oh.”

I snorted softly and glanced up at him, “Pins and needles?”

His nose wrinkled further, as did his lips when he tilted his head back and tried to shake loose the feeling from his wrist. I let him have his arm back, turning over onto my stomach to simply watch him, drinking in the sight of him whilst I still could.

“Yeah.” He hissed out and Teddy, who was watching too, started to shake his arm alongside Matty.

Matty only noticed the mimicking movement when he felt the toddler shift on his torso and opened his eyes up only to laugh at the way that Teddy was now copying him.

“Oi,” He admonished, using his other hand to playfully pinch at the boy’s side, “What you think you’re doin’?”

Teddy giggled, hair a mess from having just woken but grinning all the while. “Dancin’! Like you!”

I shook my head and bit back my sudden amusement before dropping it down into my hands when I couldn’t quite manage to hide my growing smile.

“Oh, we’re dancing are we?” I heard Matty say, and could feel the grin he probably wore. Then Teddy was laughing again and squirming beside me once more, sounding so happy, before the bed tilted more so to one side and a soft thud was heard. “Oi, where you off to!” Matty asked him whilst Teddy’s giggles still echoed around the space.

“Tele!” Was the only response he got and I listened to the way Teddy’s feet hurried out of the room, having escaped Matty’s merciless tickles.

There was a quiet for a moment before I felt a hand come to cradle my head and fingers card their way through my hair.

I leaned into the touch, savouring it. I didn’t think anyone had ever touched me with such a softness before, like I was something to be treasured, to be held and kept close.

It was a long while before I finally raised my head again, blinking at the sweet sight I was met with. I smiled at the mess his curls were in and the way his eyes squinted in the dim light of the room.

“Hi.” I whispered and his fingers stilled in my hair when he looked back at me. 

Matty didn’t say a thing though, merely shuffled further down the bed, the duvet being kicked somewhere to the bottom before he finally settled in beside me, both our heads now resting on a single pillow.

His fingertips skirted along the edge of my jaw and trailed across the bottom of my lip before his thumb reached out to catch it too, pinching the flesh ever so slightly.

“You snore.” Matty said to me then and my mouth dropped open slightly in offence.

“I do not.”

He snorted to himself, grin widening, “You do.”

I shoved him but his hands were quick to grab at my arms, wrapping them up and moving to press them against his chest. “It’s cool though, they’re cute snores.”

“How the fuck can they be cute, Matty?”

He rolled his eyes at the ask, still grinning away. “Like, just soft and stuff. Don’t stress, I’ve roomed with George and he’s got the lungs of a whale or summat. I could probably sleep next to a fog horn and feel at home.”

A bright laugh escaped me at that, before I was shaking my head gently and looking back at his sleepy smile. “That makes me feel so much better.”

Matty smacked his lips around another grin, shrugging the shoulder that wasn’t pressed to the mattress. He reached out then, brushing a loose strand from out of my face and let his thumb linger on a freckle.

“Your breath stinks as well.”

I bit into my bottom lip at that, narrowing my eyes at him. “Well yours is no better! And besides, you didn’t seem to mind it much last night.”

I went to turn over then but he was hasty in his movements to grab at me, tugging me back towards him, closer this time. I laughed joyfully, “Hey!”

“Hi.” Matty grinned smugly once we'd settled, his hand falling to the small of my back.

I was gripping one of his shoulders now whilst my other arm laid in the little space between us. “I said that already.” I told him, feeling each soft exhale that escaped him. 

He hummed, thumb rubbing circles into my skin. “I missed you, you know.”

My brow furrowed, “You slept right beside me, you muppet.”

He pinched my hip in retaliation and so I chuckled. “You know what I meant.”

I did know.

“Missed you, too.” I murmured, letting my fingertips trail up over the side of his neck, liking the feel of his barely there stubble. “But-”

He stopped me then, nudging my cheek with the tip of his nose, “I know. Later, yeah?”

My eyes fell closed and I hummed in agreement, later was fine. We could talk later.

His hand pressed against the curve of my back, forcing me even closer, and so my fingers worked themselves into his hair. I exhaled softly and tilted my head forward just a touch. He closed the distance between us in a single heartbeat.

Kissing Matty was different, everything about it just felt right in a way that no other kisses ever quite had. Things appeared to click. Fall into place around me. 

But don't get me wrong, it was painful too, because there was that ache in my chest again, the hole that hollowed out my unforgiving heart. I wanted him but at the same time, I was too terrified to reach out and touch.

Our lips brushed, once, twice, then a third time, hesitant and careful, before something shifted and I was taken back to the previous night. To the way his fingers had dug deep into my thighs, to the front door pressing against my spine, to the way he’d held me so weightlessly.

Talking could wait til later, I reminded myself.

Now, all I wanted was for Matty to consume me and I immediately gasped at the cold hand that dragged its way up my side to tease me, thumb brushing against the nipple that hardened beneath it. 

I wouldn’t let him have all the fun though, so without a second thought I rolled him over and settled on his hips. He was surprised by the change but adapted seamlessly, rutting up off the mattress to meet me, one hand still toying with me, taunting, whilst the other cupped the back of my head.

It was back and forth for a short while, mouth chasing mouth, chests heaving with the force of it.

But then, a bang hollowed out the flat.

I jumped at the sudden noise and shot my head over towards the door, listening in closer.

“Okay?” I called out, noting the breathless quality my voice now had. I waited and didn’t move even when Matty’s hands came to just sit on my waist. 

“‘Kay!” I heard Teddy shout back and I released a semi-amused huff before turning back to face the man beneath me, “Sorry.”

And I was. I really was, especially when I forced myself to drop back down onto the bed sheets next to him.

Matty simply chuckled and I glanced over at him, smiling slightly when he reached out to swipe a gentle thumb over the scar on my jaw. “You’re good." I wondered if he was just saying that, but then, "What do you think he’s actually done though? Sounded like the bike to me.”

I sighed at the very thought. The bike had been one of my mum’s many Christmas gifts to Teddy, one which I hardly had any room for in the flat. I silently hoped that it wasn't the bike, but was caught on the way Matty had so easily adapted, moving on without complaint.

Was that normal?

Matty’s hand coaxed me back into looking at him again and I softened when I saw the smile he wore. “Later,” He reminded me, knocking a knuckle against my chin before he withdrew completely, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “How about a fry up then? There's that bakery by the studio or the cafe up near mine, choice is yours but it’s on me.”

“Matty.” I huffed, not a whine but near enough, extending an arm out in hopes that it would call him back to bed.

He smirked, glancing at me from over his shoulder once he'd stood. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Come on, got a growing boy to feed- Teddy too, I 'spose.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help my grin. “You’re an idiot.”

“So you’ve said.” He quipped and I could hear how his laughter filled the flat even as he headed for the bathroom, “Teds get ready, mate! We're getting bacon!”

I fell back onto the mattress with a smile, staring up at the ceiling above me with a little bit of hope.

#the 1975 #fic #matty healy #angst #radio host #reader #x reader #x you #george daniel #ross macdonald #the 1975 band #adam hann #fluff #humour #matty healy fic #matty 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy x you #ao3 #pining #fame #strangers to lovers #mum reader #kid fic #getting together #SLOWBURN #mutual pining #Warnings #aipoban

[softdykellie]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ motion sickness part i | ellie w.

next part here

PAIRING: modern!ellie x fem!reader

SUMMARY: having grown up together, everyone knew eachother in jackson. when a brooding newcomer owner to a tattoo shop comes along apparently charming her friendly florist neighbor things seem to take a turn.

WARNING: alternative universe! purposefully all lower case. multiple part series. not a very eventful beginning as ellie’s relationship with reader is slow burn but i promise it will evolve.

WORD COUNT: 716

the entire town of jackson had stopped on its tracks to peek into the blacked out windows of what used to be cat’s bakery, an exciting guessing game at every arrival of trucks unloading black leather chairs and tall unopened boxes that according to jesse made heavy noises to the shake. the owner, whoever they may be, haven’t made their way to the building yet, and all pointed towards a newcomer. jackson wasn’t used to those.

“you think it’s a woman?”

“i just hope they’re hot” dina says, getting in response a subtle glare from jesse as she poured whiskey from her expensive cabinet onto your cup. it was always on the house for her best friend, a near prayer for bankruptcy.

you chuckled before clinking your glasses together and taking a long sip to avoid the topic you knew awaited you by the way dina raised her eyebrows suggestively, squinting her eyes towards the bar’s furthest corner where abby anderson, former basketball star and current police chief, downed her own drink. the woman never wore her hair down and was an apparent fan of uniforms, having once used religiously her numbered jersey and now eternally in dark blue slacks. once upon a time there had been something between you, if you could call it that: a drunken kiss at a frat party after a winning game, all nerves and eagerness, tongue and hands. years later, dina would never let you live it down.

“i’m just saying your love life is about as interesting as jj’s and he’s two years old!” she whispered agressively before whistling for abby’s attention “oi, anderson! c’mon let us in on the secret, what’s the new shop for?”

“didn’t take you as a gossip, dina”

“well then you clearly don’t know me enough! entertain us, we won’t tell”

abby seemed to think for a minute, glancing between you and the empty bottom of her cup. with a sigh she walked over from her seat towards your spot at the barstools, the smell of fresh mint and citrus radiating off her. under the dim lighting her blonde hair still shone - nearly sparkled - at every ray, inevitably, you stared until she smirked. another bitter whiskey sip.

“some asshole’s tattoo shop” up close, that was when you took note of her bruised hand, red knuckles still somewhat clenched up. it suddenly made sense why the stoic figure was seen day drinking at her job, something to numb the pain without looking weak. still, everything seemed unlike her. hot-tempered. dina asked bluntly what you found yourself too stunned to ask: “what the fuck anderson, you punched the newcomer?”

her eyes were on you again, pale blue like a stormfront, searching your expression. abby anderson was a different kind of beauty, ragged around the edges, rough and sharpened. everyone guessed college would straighten that out of her, ivy league scholarship with the rich and powerful far enough from jackson you’d think nostalgia was a disease amongst the trophies and gpas. no one could bare look her in the eye since the career ending injury that lead her to come back, besides you. she figured that’s what kept her enthralled; not being a walking failure to at least someone in her hometown.

your staring match as over before it fully began. a swing of the door echoing bells throughout the establishment. jesse straightened his back, ready to serve, dina fixated on the hand still, abby looked down and you turned your body towards the entrance. 5”7 and fully tattooed at every visible corner of skin besides her face - oh that face - right eye stained in swollen purple. she looked no one in the eye besides dina.

“one beer please”

she caught your eye for a second, taking you in under her shuddering gaze in such precise detail you were sure all the lines and dots connected into the paiting of your face had made themselves a maze under microscope. she searched for something in you, a reaction, you barely even noticed how your breath had hitched until you ran out of air. her hand slowly reached towards your face in what appeared at first to be a cheek caress, before she tugged a leaf from behind your ear, stuck to your hair.

“you must be the flower shop girl. hi, neighbor. i’m ellie.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #the last of us #tlou #ellie x fem!reader #modern!ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie fanfiction #softdykellie #abby x fem!reader

[stackslip]

CAN YOU ELABORATE ON TLT BEING A HOMESTUCK FANFIC‽‽‽‽‽

i'm exaggerating a bit, but taz muir was a well known homestuck writer who wrote under the username urbanAnchorite. her fic the serendipity gospels is one of my fave fics ever, but was never finished and it's only by book 2 of tlt that i figured that the clear allusions to it in book 1 weren't just cute little nods but that she'd expanded on some of the ideas/concepts and worldbuilding of the serendipity gospels. to name a few:

the ninth house cult is heavily based on the juggalo church muir wrote/expanded upon in TSG, from face paint to the rituals and a lot of the accompanying prose

act 2 of TSG takes place mainly in a spaceship that serves as "cathedral" of the juggalo cult, and is described to be covered in bones that have been painted in many colors--which is close to the description of the mithraeum

act 2 also features the two main characters being much younger people mentored/manipulated into horrible acts by an old man who is thousands of years old and bickering with his other thousand year old friends/enemies, who seem to share knowledge and understanding that neither the two protagonists do but also deeply resent one another. hard to not read a parallel to john and the lyctors here!

to elaborate on this bc i just realized it: it is heavily implied in TSG that the dancestors (older people thousands of years old) went through a universe reset and built the empire in the image of their own trauma and anger, which would v much parallel what happens to john on earth and how he "reset" humanity

less of a homestuck thing and more of a taz muir thing: said old man is v much grooming the main female character and making her life miserable during the entirety of act 2

a lot of the story takes place in the background of the trolls' empire being a horrific imperialist force that the main characters were originally very excited to join and become a part of, with one of these characters in particular daydreaming about becoming ground troop for invasion while also holding a terrible secret that would have precluded him of doing so anyway. p neat parallel to gideon's own thing here

act 1 and act 2 of TSG are from two different pov characters, with a drastic shift in prose style and understanding of the situation/world when the pov shifts. which v much echoes how tlt has worked so far. part 3 was barely started before it went on hiatus, but it followed the same pattern.

speaking of, the prose of act 2 of TSG definitely feels very close to harrow the ninth's prose. you can just open the fic and check the first chapter of act 2 and how it's written, and you'll see what i mean. there are differences--the prose of TSG act 2 is more inflected with southern usamerican evangelical speak, i think? i'm not american so i can't quite 200% tell

there is an external armed resistance to the empire's violent imperialism and resistance that was supposed to be the focus in act 3 of TSG, which never happened. nona the ninth did, though, and it follows that structure.

there are also eldritch horrors that threaten the entire universe--homestuck's own horrorterrors--that are in the background of TSG and implied to be an important part of the future plot that we never saw. tlt has the ressurrection beasts

taz muir's worldbuilding around the blood castes in og homestuck that she elaborates on in TSG also somewhat parallels the way the houses function in tlt

iirc there's also worldbuilding around space travel in tlt (such as the obelisks? i think that's the name? and the use of necromancy to power them) that parallels taz muir's own take on how space travel works in the troll empire, using psionics and draining them dry in a similar way

i think the necro-cav relationship 'ideal' is based around how taz also interpreted moirallegiance in not just TSG but all her homestuck fics, down to how its legal implementation and the idealization of it vs its role in troll/houses imperialism and the reality of blurred lines in "expected" relationships. i'd love to hear taz's discourse on troll romance

i also think the necro-cav relationship parallels the other legal pairing explored in TSG--legislacerator and subjugglator.

there are probably more parallels i am missing--i need to reread TSG soon, as i haven't in a while. there are elements i'd say are more like, how taz herself elaborated on the bones of the worldbuilding of homestuck and then made it her own thing, which is rad as hell. other elements are more fun nods, such as gideon's aviator glasses being shamelessly stolen from dave homestuck, and a lot of gtn's prose feeling very homestuckey. it's def not like, just a little rewrite and boom, you get the locked tomb! imo it's more elements of plot and worldbuilding that were interesting enough to develop into something of its own and that taz made into something new, along with other elements of other stories (such as lolita and umineko) being woven into it. part of why i enjoy tlt so much is its "collage" aspect, taking elements taz thought interesting in other stories, or using these elements to purposefully evoke specific feelings/moods to construct or obsfucate certain ideas.

#eli talks #tlt #homestuck

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Coming Home (Part Eleven)

Azriel x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten

Is this me...being SOFT?! (Seriously tho, I have zero experience with writing romance and chemistry between characters, so I'm sorry if it's not great lol)

Warnings: None!

⧪

Mor tells me you aren’t coming to Starfall.

The handwriting was Azriel’s. Brilliant and intricate on the parchment that had appeared before you, you studied the curves and loops of the words, a smile playing on your lips. 

Mor would be right about that, you wrote back.

Things had become…better — calmer — in the two weeks since that awful night in Windhaven. You’d braved a few returns to check in on Thea and the other girls — Azriel insisting on taking you there and back every time — and they were recovering well. The relentless strength of younglings never failed to amaze you. 

Things with Rhys were on better footing — in the loosest way. Not perfect, by any means, but you’d agreed to put things behind you for the time being. There was still much you needed to talk about, get out in the open, but you’d decided to let things lie until after Starfall. 

And then there was Azriel.

You were friends again, no longer avoiding each other, no tiptoeing around a massive rift. You were on your best behaviour, keeping things purely platonic and not overstepping the mark. And it was a relief. A weight off your shoulders.

Things between you had begun to feel like they used to — like they were before you’d dared to attempt that kiss on Starfall night all those years ago. A comforting, familiar thing that you’d gladly fallen back into, just like old times—

Yet somewhere amongst it all, things had slowly begun to…change. Become different. 

The notes — writing back and forth when you weren’t physically together — was an entirely new thing. Azriel’s witty words had become somewhat of a calming presence during long days at the clinic. You found yourself excited for the notes to appear before you, found yourself grinning like an idiot as you read over his thoughts and questions and light teasing, and you formulated your responses. 

And maybe he was just trying to make sure you were keeping your shit together after that awful night in Windhaven. Or maybe he was simply enjoying having your friendship back, revelling in it. Whatever it was…Azriel was always the instigator. Always the first to write. 

It’s your first Starfall in almost a century — why would you not come?

You studied the question he’d written back, chewing your lip. So many things you could write — the truth, maybe; that you weren’t sure you could face the memory of your last Starfall in its entirety. It was one thing having the gnawing recollection of it in the back of your mind, staining your cheeks pink, but being back up on that balcony while light and life burst through the skies above you, was a whole different thing. Seeing the passing stars cast flashes of light across Azriel’s sculpted face, his full lips—

No. Pointing that out to him did not align with the whole being friends thing. It would be inappropriate, awkward, to bring it up. 

So you simply wrote back, I have nothing to wear. 

Such a pathetic excuse, that you snorted to yourself — and imagined Az doing the same. Seconds passed before his writing once more appeared before your eyes. 

So I’ll buy you something.

Your heart did a silly, pathetic flip, a grin pulling at your lips. You loved this — the teasing; had missed it. And even though it was slightly different to what it had once been…somehow more than it had once been…it still made you feel light and giddy and content.

Yes — you could totally do the friendship thing. Could totally be responsible and appropriate and proper. 

You didn’t write back to his jestful suggestion, having found yourself occupied by a patient walking through the door of the clinic. 

But it was just as you were closing up for a quick lunch at noon, that you heard the thud of footsteps approaching the front counter, and you turned to find Azriel there in all his brilliant, dark glory. 

The sight of him had your heart picking up. Gods, he was beautiful. Writing notes back and forth was one thing, but…seeing him in person…you felt your body flush.

You gave him a once-over — no injuries that you could detect. So why was he here?

“Please tell me you haven’t been hit with an ash arrow again.” You said.

One side of his mouth lifted into a lopsided grin. “No, lady. I’m completely intact.”

A stab of relief pinched at you, relaxing your shoulders. “So what brings you here? I was just about to close up and take a quick lunch.”

“Perfect. We’re going shopping.”

You stopped, blinking. Surely he wasn’t serious. He seemed to find your surprise amusing, and he dipped his chin, as if to hide a smile. 

“Don’t you have someone to spy on, or something?” You asked. Most days, it was a novelty if anyone saw Azriel at all, besides the flash of his flying form in the skies above them.

“No, I don’t.” He smiled. “My afternoon is free — and yours. If you’ll have my company.”

If. Was he aware of how preposterous it was to bring such a thing into question? Of course you'd have his company — as much of it as he’d give. Maybe he truly didn’t realise that.

Still, your eyes flicked around the wooden interior of the clinic, responsibility nagging at you from the back of your mind. 

Azriel tracked your gaze. “I’m sure anyone in great need of a healer would track Madja down.” He pointed out. “Why don’t you close up for the rest of the day? You work hard enough as it is.”

You cocked an eyebrow, the phrase pot-kettle-black springing to mind. “As do you.”

“Well, then.” The smirk on his lips was delicious, breathtaking as he held out a hand to you. “Clearly we both deserve a break. Let’s have some fun.”

And maybe it was stupid and reckless and not in keeping with the platonic boundaries the two of you had set for yourselves, but you relented. 

Every part of you tingled as you placed your hand in his, and he led you out the door.

⧪

The Palace of Thread and Jewels. 

Perhaps the most opulent of the four market squares in Velaris. Every inch of it boasted wealth and decadence, with window displays of intricately-woven tapestries, others glinting with the jewels and gems that the afternoon light bounced off of. And of course, the clothiers; it seemed there were outfitters there for every occasion you could possibly need to shop for, be it a ball or a wedding, a steamy night with your mate – even just lounging at home. You’d always found it breathtaking; the talents behind the makers of such garments and jewels. That they knew precisely what to do with yards and yards of beautiful fabrics.

It dawned on you very quickly that in the time you’d been back, you hadn’t truly taken the chance to simply appreciate the unique experience that was walking around Velaris. It was an assault on the senses in the most heady, wonderful way. The constant accompaniment of chatter, and the faraway music that drifted on a wind from The Rainbow, seeming to snake its way through all corners of the city. The trickle of the market fountain that children played around, flicking coins into the water or chasing birds across the square. And the delicious smells that wafted from restaurants and cafes, of tea and coffee and spices and sweet treats.

So many places you’d been to across the world, and yet none of them were quite like this. 

Azriel strode closely by your side, eyes always watching and alert. He wouldn’t say it, but…you got the sense that he was uncomfortable, with the way people stared – soaking in the novelty of their High Lord’s spymaster and sister strolling amongst them. Even with his scarred hands tucked into gloves, he kept them shoved inside his pockets as though making entirely sure that no one would catch a glance. 

It made you want to grab one of those hands more than ever. Hold it openly and proudly. 

Azriel led you into a shop that you’d trailed Mor around many times before – her favourite, you knew. The clothes it sold were gorgeous, the seamstress behind every one of the pieces an utter expert at producing intricate garments that were sexy and classy and beautiful. You brushed your hand over different dresses as you followed Az in, wondering what might look good on you, which colours were best against your skin tone, which materials complemented your body the most. 

The two of you looked up as the seamstress emerged from the back of the shop, her eyes immediately fixing on Azriel. She looked him up and down, a familiar flash of hunger in her eyes.

“Shadowsinger,” She greeted him – not you – in a voice as smooth as melted chocolate. “What can I do for you today?” 

Azriel inclined his head in your direction, hands still shoved into his pockets. “I’m here to find the lady an outfit suitable for Starfall. One as beautiful as she is. I know you must have something, Mauve.” 

Mauve was forced to look at you then – though she seemed reluctant to tear her eyes from Azriel. She appraised you in a way that made you feel strangely naked, her eyes taking in the dips and curves of your body. “I’m sure there’s something here you’d find suitable.” 

“We won’t keep you from your work.” Azriel’s smile was easy, charming – and a clear dismissal. “We’ll give you a shout should we require your assistance.” 

Mauve didn’t push it. Dipping her chin, she turned and disappeared through the door she’d emerged from, leaving you and Az alone on the shop floor. 

You turned to him, a small, coy smile playing on your lips. You couldn’t quite believe you were going along with this – allowing him to buy you something for Starfall when you hadn’t even agreed to attend in the first place. You felt strangely nervous and shy, fiddling with your hands.

“Would you favour a dress?” Az murmured in his lilting voice, already walking past clothes racks and mannequins in slow, easy strides. “Or perhaps something more akin to Amren’s style?”

You cleared your throat, falling into step beside him. “Um. A dress, I suppose…”

He nodded, and you watched as he finally pulled his hands from his pockets. The gloves came off next, bearing his beautiful hands to the warm interior of the shop. It took you a moment to realise he hadn’t merely grown too hot from the heating enchantment – he wanted to feel the fabrics. To test how different materials brushed his skin. 

He ran his hand over different dresses, a pinch of thought on his face. “You like autumnal colours. Reds and oranges and yellows.” 

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. An observation. He’d actually noticed that about you – taken note of the shades you often wore, the different ones you paired together. 

“I do.” You concurred, watching his fingers glide over silk of a burnt orange colour. 

“Perhaps that’s why you like Lucien Vanserra so much.” 

Your eyes flickered to his, finding him already gazing at you, his head on a slight tilt. His face was always so unreadable, it was hard to know the meaning or intent behind his words. But you thought…thought maybe there was a flash of ire in there somewhere. Or something like it. 

“What’s so bad about Lucien?” You asked.

Azriel shook his head. “Lucien isn’t a bad male. Not by any stretch of the imagination.” His tongue swiped over his bottom lip. “Perhaps I’m just selfish.”

Before you could question him, he brushed past you, crossing the shop floor and stopping before another rack. You could feel the frown tugging at your face – something about you wanted to push the subject. 

But things were good again. And you were enjoying yourself for the first time in a long while. You were loath to get into a disagreement with him. 

“Here.” His voice hummed as you approached him from behind. He angled slightly towards you, his deft fingers brushing a velvet dress the colour of plum. “This – it reminds me of the dress you wore at the ball Rhys threw for your nineteenth birthday.”

You baulked at him. “You remember that?” 

His hazel eyes were like heated syrup that burned into yours. Like he was trying to communicate something without saying the words. 

“How could I forget?” Was all he offered.

Indeed, that night was the most beautiful you’d ever felt, after years of plain, unassuming clothes that you merely wore to hide the scars Tamlin’s father had left you with. The first time you’d ever really felt like a woman instead of a girl – and it seemed that every male in that ballroom had echoed that sentiment. Never had you been asked for so many dances or offered so many drinks. That dress had given you confidence you’d never imagined yourself having. And you’d never quite been able to emulate it since. 

“Do you see anything you like?” Az asked, letting the fabric drop from his fingers. “Whatever you want, you’ll have.”

There it was again – that flipping of your heart and your stomach. You pursed your lips, nodding at the plum velvet dress. “I want to try it on.” 

You could have sworn there was a hint of a smile as he eased it from the rack, holding it carefully as though he was worried his scarred hands would marr the beauty of the garment. Still, he carried it for you, leading you through to the small changing area. 

“I’ll wait here.” He handed you the dress, perching on a chair that in no way accommodated his massive wings.

You were…you were nervous, you realised, as you sidled into the changing stall, the dress draped over your arm, and slid the curtain across. Something felt so intimate about this situation…like crossing a little line you never had before.

You didn’t quite understand how you’d ended up here, when a matter of weeks ago, you and Az hadn’t been talking. Not that you were complaining. 

You undressed, hyper-aware that nothing but a flimsy curtain was separating the two of you. Your body felt too hot, too tight as you slid the dress on, the velvet caressing your skin.

And realised the dress did up from the back. 

You almost groaned. Like the Mother, the Cauldron, the Gods-damn fates, were trying to push you into compromising situations with Az, no matter how hard you tried to avoid them, to behave yourself. Of course you would try on a dress you couldn’t reach the fucking ties to.

You tweaked back the curtain an inch, clearing your throat. “Um…” You murmured, cheeks flushing as Az glanced up. “It kind of…laces up at the back.”

He stared at you. Just for a split second, before he rose from the chair, so big in that tiny little changing section that it was almost comical. You stepped aside to make room, and he had to duck just to get into the changing stall. 

You turned your back to him, coming face-to-face with the mirror. And the sight of you both…him stood at your back like that, close enough to feel the cool press of his leathers against your skin…it could well have set you alight. 

It was an effort to keep yourself upright, to stop your knees from buckling, as Az’s rough fingers gently brushed your hair to the side, letting it fall over one shoulder. He was silent as he began to pull at the laces, but his breaths – they were heavy. Loud. Fanning the back of your neck with delicious warmth. 

“Hope I’m doing this right.” He murmured, his brow pinched in concentration. 

The dress was pulling tighter against you, accentuating the silhouette of your figure through the fabric. And perhaps that was why you were breathing so quick and so heavy, feeling like you may just pass out from the proximity, from his potent, earthy scent. You closed your eyes as you felt him reach the last of the laces, bracing your hand against the wall. 

“There.” His voice was soft, gentle, the sound of it moving through his chest and brushing your back. It was a task in itself to bite down the moan that wanted to slip from your lips. 

It took you a while to actually face what you looked like in that dress. And Az was patient, still lingering behind you as you slowly opened your eyes and drank in your reflection. It was simple, yet pretty…not adorned with beads or jewels, but it didn’t need to be. Something about the soft velvet…the deep purple shade…it just looked right. Dark and gorgeous and daring.

Like you belonged in the Night Court.

Az was staring, too. Staring hard. You watched as his eyes moved down and down, taking in every inch of you; appreciating every inch of you. They slowly flicked back up again, his gaze meeting yours in the mirror. You could see the rise and fall of your chest through the dress. 

With careful movements – like he was testing himself, or you, or something – he placed a hand on your shoulder. His fingers brushed the skin there, before moving down the length of your arm. Each delicate touch left a trail of heat behind it. You wondered if he could feel it, sense it – what his touch did to you.

His eyes followed his own movements, watching as his fingers glided over your wrist and stopped at your hand. Where he took it in his own, his palm warm against the back of your hand. 

He laced his fingers between yours, giving a gentle squeeze that drew the slightest of sounds from your throat. 

“I’ve always thought you have the prettiest skin.” His voice was a whisper, and yet daringly loud in your ears. 

You could have been the only two people left in the shop, in Velaris, in the whole fucking world, for all you aware of it. It was just you and him in that moment, in that tiny, cramped stall, when your bodies were pressed together, his hand clinging to yours.

“It’s like…” He continued, his thumb brushing over yours in soft strokes. “It makes me think of water. When it’s still and unbroken. Just…clear. Serene. Magical.”

You closed your eyes, sure you were definitely going to faint. Maybe even die. Maybe you were already dead, and this was the beyond, and–

You yelped as Az suddenly spun you around, forcing you to face him. A single breath had your fronts brushing against each other. He didn’t let go of your hand, and you didn’t dare open your eyes. 

“Look at me…” He whispered. 

Releasing a staggered breath, you willed your eyes to open. There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t tremble, even with the firm grip of his hand holding onto you. You could feel how flushed your cheeks were, how much of a simpering fool you must have looked.

But Azriel drank you in – not your reflection, but you. Every last bit of you. His throat worked on a swallow, his lips parting. 

“You…” He breathed, swallowing again. “You’re a wonder.” 

Your heart did that silly little flip in your chest, your eyes darting to the ground. You couldn’t face him like this, couldn’t–

“Don’t hide from me,” His other hand gently grabbed your chin. “Please…”

There were so many things you wanted to say in that moment. So many things you wanted to do – the most pressing being the urge to shove him against the wall, to rip his clothes off and taste every bit of him. Or maybe you could be slow, be methodical about it. Maybe you could try a small, soft kiss, test the waters–

“Hello?” The harsh, feminine voice was like being jolted awake. You and Az jerked back from each other just as the curtain was pulled aside, and the seamstress took in the sight of you both, pursing her lips in clear disapproval. “Did you find what you were looking for?” She asked. 

Az looked to you inquisitively – it was your choice. “We’ll get whatever you like. This one, or we can look for another–”

“I like this dress.” You cut in quickly, clearing your throat. “I’ll get this one.” 

The seamstress gave the two of you one more scathing glance before she nodded. “I’ll be waiting at the counter.”

Az turned back to you, eyes flicking over you again. Eyes you couldn’t meet without losing your cool completely. 

You cleared your throat again. “I think I can actually manage with the laces.”

Azriel seemed to hesitate, before he nodded. “I’ll be just out there, then.” 

He stepped out, pausing just to cast one more glance at you over his shoulder. Like he wanted one more look at you in that dress. 

“Very good choice.” He said quietly, and let the curtain fall between you. 

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

Tags: @theravenphoenix26 @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611 @goldentournesol @percyjacksonspeen @high-bi-andreadytocry @esposadomd @positivewitch @bsenpai @cityofidek @shannonsaid @topaz125 @azzydaddy @nobody00sthings @sfhsgrad-blog @elizarikaallen @hanasakr @ruleroftides @mis-lil-red @reiincarnatiion @moonfawnx @new-adventures-every-day @davinaclaire16 @i-am-fascinated @lucyysthings @margssstuff @magneticforceofaswifty @xxoverthinkerxx @marigold-morelli @owllover123 @vera0124 @thewarriormoon @the-book-gnome @favoritecrime1 @pricklepearbloom @icantthinkofanythingplease @ilovespideyyy @kitty-kait @hwas-housewife @localhopedealerr @magical-mischief-makers-makerss @holywolfsstuff @grungy-blue-hipster

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #acotar fanfic #rhysand #mating bond #a court of thorns and roses #cassian #feyre #amren #morrigan #nesta #elain #azriel fluff #acotar fandom #acotar series #shadowsinger #spymaster #fluff #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #acotar writing #acotar fluff #acotar x reader

[sepublic]

Alright hear me out. Pythor x Overlord yaoi. Think about it. The only people the Overlord has really interacted with are yes-men he created to serve him, such as Kozu and Cryptor, or people he's manipulated after rescuing at a low point in their lives, so Garmadon and Harumi.

Pythor is different; He's someone wholly independent of the Overlord, who went out of his way to find and rescue him, totally of his own volition. The Overlord might not have even known Pythor existed up until they met. Others, the Overlord has had to control and take advantage of, but him and Pythor are always on the same track, there's no moral hesitation on his end. They have an evil laugh together, the Overlord outright tells Pythor that he likes him.

Of course Kozu and Cryptor do everything for the Overlord, they were made for that. Pythor CHOSE to be unconditionally loyal. He says he wants the Overlord as a means of revenge against the ninja, but he still took a bullet for the Overlord, which necessitated Zane's sacrifice. Maybe Pythor was more assured of the Overlord's ability to destroy the ninja than his own, and was willing to die for vengeance because what else does he have left?

He's an outcast by Serpentine standards; In the canon Pythor's Revenge book, part of his motives for stealing the BorgWatch ahead of its release was to impress his fellow Serpentine into letting him back in, but they don't. Everyone blames Pythor for nearly getting them killed, he's hated by his own kind now, and was evidently somewhat of a black sheep even amongst his own Anacondrai, who eventually did recognize him at the end of S4.

Does Pythor even know what he's doing with his life anymore, or is he just angry and bitter and looking for an outlet? Has he been driven twice mad, first by surviving the starvation and Donner Party cannibalism of his kind, and then burning inside of the Great Devourer? He was all alone after the Great Devourer, vulnerable and having to take care of himself.

Maybe he sees himself in the Overlord, someone considered an absolute monster with nobody else on his side, who just wants to lash out at the world. Maybe there's a kinship between the two, where Pythor gives him the helper he himself needed. Multiple times, he is the Overlord's savior, when usually it is the other way around between the Overlord and his found champion; There are times where HE is guiding the Overlord with advice, having a grounded, mortal perspective that he needs. The Overlord has had minions and pawns, but him and Pythor genuinely feel like an equal standing.

Don't you think it's kinda sus that the Overlord trusts Pythor more with his damaged condition, than the Nindroid he literally programmed to serve him? He knew Cryptor longer. But Pythor's willing, unconditional loyalty really is something else; I think the Overlord's never had a mortal choose to be on his side without coercion of some kind, so he's like his first real friend. The only person he actually respects enough to listen to; Someone the Overlord trusts to intimately hide in the body of, over any other mechanical means up until this point. Maybe he was just sick of robotic confines and wanted to feel flesh. But maybe…!

Cryptor is wary of Pythor and learning the Overlord really did trust this Serpentine more than his own creation is frustrating to him. He thinks they're both vying for paternal affection from the Overlord. On Cryptor's end, that is the case. But for Pythor, he, um. Fucked that old man.

In Crystalized, I kinda see the Overlord as replacing the twisted paternal role that Harumi tried to place Garmadon into. So in addition to any possibly objections over the mastermind of her parents' demise being on C.O.C.K., not only is the Overlord justifying it by explaining that Pythor is loyal, but also. Also he's his husband. Evil purple couple. By extension that makes Pythor her dad, her fourth dad. Harumi has to explain to Mr. F that Pythor fucked her dad.

#Ninjago #Pythor #Pythor P Chumsworth #Ninjago Overlord #Cryptor #Harumi Jade #crackship

[nolita-fairytale]

cigarettes & coffee (carmy x fem!reader songfic)

summary: carmy can't sleep and neither can you. after moving in together you spend a morning drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. (part of the make my heart surrender verse, but can absolutely be read as a standalone piece).

word count: 1.2k

warnings: smoking, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, but i don't think any others

listen to: cigarettes & coffee - otis redding

a/n: just a lil something to hold the carmy fandom over while i work on some engagemet smut and the prequel to make my heart surrender

"it's early in the morning about a quarter til three, i'm sittin' here talkin' with my baby over cigarettes and coffee."

"Can't sleep?" Carmy hears you say, your soft footsteps filling his ears.

He's curled up next to the windowsill, inside of the reading nook that's tucked perfectly into the apartment's alcove.

"Nah," you shake your head, your footsteps carrying over to your now shared open kitchen.

You notice that he's opened one of the windows and is fumbling around with an unopened pack of cigarettes.

"Sorry did I wake you?" he asks, just a hint of nervousness in the sound of his voice.

"It's okay," you respond, quietly reassuring him.

And it is okay.

But it's also going to be an adjustment.

"darling, I've been so satisfied, honey, since I met you, baby, since I met you."

You start making your morning coffee as you can hear Carmy beginning to fidget with his lighter. Carmy has a marlboro pressed in between his lips as he listens to you. He shifts forward from where he sits so that he can move the needle of your record player back over to the dark-colored vinyl you both were listening to the night before. He half-smiles as he watches the record begin to spin, turning the volume down just a hair from where it was the night before.

The love he has for vintage denim is the same love you have for vintage records, you'd explained to him when you'd first met.

You'd really lucked out yesterday by finding this old copy of Otis Redding's "The Soul Album" at the used bookstore a couple of blocks away. You'd purchased it as a symbol of you and Carmy's new chapter. Every time you wanted to remember this phase of your life, you could pull the vinyl from its sleeve and take a trip down memory lane.

"but it seemed so natural, darling, that you and I are here, just talking over cigarettes and drinking coffee."

Carmy takes a look around at the mess in your -- well, now the both of your -- apartment. Unpacking amidst the move felt like it would never end, and he felt bad about the state of disarray he'd left your apartment in. Pushing the thoughts from his mind, he lights up the end of his marlboro in avoidance.

He inhales the smoke deeply -- a somewhat frustrated and burdened quality to it.

You chuckle to yourself.

Yes. This is who you get to wake up to every morning: the man that you love, your best friend, your lover who sometimes carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"What's on your mind?" you ask softly, setting a timer on your phone for your French press.

Carmy sighs as he exhales the smoke, angling his face in the direction of the open window.

Sure, you'd both agreed he wouldn't smoke in the house but... it would take some getting used to.

"The agnolotti you made me a few weeks ago," he finally answers, his eyes fixed on the sun peaking just underneath the horizon.

Of course he's thinking about a menu.

"For The Bear?" you ask, curiously.

"Maybe. What do you think?" he asks back, turning his head to look at you.

You turn to him, your back pressed against the kitchen counter as you say: “I thought you said you already tried a stuffed pasta."

The corners of his lips curl into the smallest smile as he answers, “Not yours.”

You smile softly, thinking it over.

A few weeks ago, before the madness of the move, you'd been on a creative bender. You'd dreamed up a savory braised leek agnolotti del plin with a lemon beurre monte to brighten up the dish. You and Carmy had been working opposite shifts as of late, and it had worked out perfectly that you'd been able to surprise him with a home cooked meal when he'd gotten off of a particularly challenging shift.

"It could work," you state, a strategy beginning to unfold in your mind.

"We could do a little R&D with it as a special before committing to something that detail oriented. Think it would still work with the flow of things. Not too much extra work for Manny and Angel? Maybe Syd would be up for the challenge...? Or maybe you and I could work on it together."

"I'll throw it out there... talk it over with Sydney," he replies, coming to a temporary pause on the thought.

Carmy continues smoking his cigarette as you busy yourself with the remaining dishes left over in the sink. Since you started moving him in, it'd mostly been takeout or ordering a pizza -- neither of you having the energy to cook between the move and the restaurant.

"and oh, my heart cries out, love at last I've found you, oh, and honey, won't you let me just build my whole life around you?"

As your timer goes off for the coffee, you push pause on dishes and dry yours hands off.

You make up one of your little serving trays with two mugs, filling both cups 3/4 of the way. You add the remaining coffee, still in the French press, and the remaining milk you have in your fridge, to the tray.

Ready for your morning coffee, you turn around, tray in hand, as you take in the image of your handsome boyfriend. He's exhaling the smoke out of the window, his back pressed up against one of the walls of the alcove. The sun is just starting to rise, and you can't help but think he looks like an old hollywood movie star with the way that the sunlight hits his face.

You can't believe you get to wake up to this every single morning now.

"i would love to have another drink of coffee, now, and please, darling, help me smoke this one more cigarette, now, i don't want no cream and sugar, 'cause I've got you now, darling."

Sure, you'd agreed you wouldn't smoke in the house but when he looks this good doing it, you don't have the heart to stop him. You make your way to where he sits in the apartment's little reading nook before setting down the tray of coffee.

He looks to you, noticing the amused look on your face as your eyes flicker over to his cigarette. He looks down for a moment, before looking back to you, his blue eyes catching yours.

"Am I in trouble?" he asks, a small smirk on his lips. You pick up your cup of coffee taking a sip before responding.

You shake your head, "Not this time."

You lean in towards Carmy, and just as he thinks you're going to kiss him, you take the cigarette from him, trading him your coffee cup. He watches you, completely enchanted with you as you curl up on the other side of the seating area. With your back pressed up against the closed window and your feet hanging off of the reading nook seating, you bring the cigarette up to your lips to inhale.

Carmy takes a sip of your coffee as you exhale, facing towards the open window just like he'd done previously.

His chest filled to the brim with warmth, he asks you, "How're you mine?"

You shrug, the corners of your lips curling into a smile you reply, "Guess we both got lucky, huh?"

"it's so early in the morning, and I've got you and you've got me, and we'll have each other, and we don't, and we don't want nothing but joy."

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #make my heart surrender #still into you #carmy #songfic #song recs

[spookibird]

Some thoughts about if RTC was ever adapted to a film and what I think would be interesting:

First of all Karnak as an actual animatronic or puppet, it's doable

Each of the choir kids' songs would be visually different as well as different music styles

Hype up Jane's creepiness, they could put a lotta effort into the makeup

The kids would still be the backup performers, but their costumes can be more intricate, not just their school uniforms with accessories

WTWN would be very much exaggerated, like a mix between a pop music video, a gameshow, and an influencer's travel video, it would feel too staged and perfect, very much trying to hype up Ocean and push down the others

Noel's Lament would be in black and white, very much inspired by old cinema, particularly French tragedies, for obvious reasons, somewhat gloomy, but also oddly beautiful, plus a film could go all out with the costumes for this one, bonus if they change how the film is shot specifically for this song to emphasise the old cinema vibes

TSIA is just an over the top music video, not in the same way WTWN is tho, it's flashy but it's like a music video made by a small youtuber (for obvious reasons), feeling a bit homemade but they rock it

Talia would completely contrast TSIA and be exceedingly beautiful, think gorgeous paintings and historical romance films, it would absolutely be about a wedding, just completely opposite to the flashy materialistic TSIA

tbf TSIA/Talia could also be like a mini romance film, going from Mischa living his awesome life, to meeting her in the club, then getting married

SABM would be 100% like early sci-fi films, including cheesy effects and costumes, I want Ricky's outfit to look absolutely over the top as well, inspired by some 70s/80s prog rock looks, give him a cape, and incorporate his mobility aids there's so much potential

TBoJD would be very gothic, with minimal colours, portraying a tragic funeral for the mystery victim, attended by faceless guests and the choir, until the music picks up

bc its such an iconic part of the show, Jane would still fly around, and the setting would become a surreal interpretation of the cyclone accident, the one memory and subsequently the one defining factor Jane has to reflect on

Sugar Cloud would be a celebration, hyping up Constance and her newfound joy in life, a stage in the sky where she can freely perform and dance with her friends

The recorder solo stays as her giving someone the mic and the rest headbanging to it

I feel like it has potential to be really cool but also they could just as easily ruin it,

Finally Ocean would be the obligatary mainstream singer casting, and WTWN would be really hyped up and it would be really cursed

#ride the cyclone #rtc #ocean o'connell rosenberg #jane doe rtc #noel gruber #mischa bachinski #ricky potts #constance blackwood rtc #this has been in my drafts for so long

[avatarl0v3r]

Hiii can i request Lo’ak being in love with Human fem reader and they share their first kiss but mama Netyiri finds them and forbids them from seeing each other again? But reader almost dies protecting Lo’ak so Netyiri let’s them date each other?

“Na’vi Can’t Be With Humans”

Lo’akxFem!Human!Reader

This is a longer one

Index: the reader and lo’ak have been bestfriends for years and soon grew feelings for each other but Neytiri doesn't want her son to be with a human

warning/notes: cussing, near death experience, somewhat jealous Lo'ak, angst (if you blink you’ll miss it), not proof read, the war between humans and Na’vi is still going on, in the first part Lo’ak and reader are 15, when the year time skip comes read and Lo’ak are 16, Tsireya is one of my favorite characters but for this story she might be a bitch, i picture y/n as black in all my story’s but i don’t mention skin color nor hair type etc but in this her hair is curly (3b-3c)

Na’vi can’t be with humans masterlist

next

WC: 4,206

Tag list🏷️: @iloveavatar @mashiromochi @nyotamalfoy @debsworld23 @dioriez @nao-cchi @brookesbizzareadvendture @minkyungseokie

You’ve been on pandora since you could remember you were born here along with Spider, but the difference was you were curious about life on earth both your parents were scientist and worked on making you an avatar to just survive around here and it was fully mature when you were the age of 12 even though you were 15 your parents wanted to run a few tests on it before you used it, so your mother gave you her music player that you could take with you anywhere.

It had many songs on it, and you would listen to it all the time. Lo'ak who was your best friend was interested in the music that would play.

Neytiri wasn't very happy about this let alone the fact Lo'ak was friends with you, but Jake brushed it off for he was also human at one point.

As a human girl you weren't that tall compared to the Na'vi only standing at 5'8 the same height at Tuk which you hated mainly because she was 8 years old, and you were 15 years old.

One morning you woke up and grabbed your music player from off the table and started listening to "kill bill" by SZA sining the song as you got dressed for the day unlike Spider you actually got somewhat dressed you walked out your room with your music player and headed outside saying good morning to your parents who were looking over things with your avatar "Heading out" you say as you walk pass them "Mask" your father yelled "Got it" you said as you grabbed the mask and put it on your face walking out the door.

you seen Spider running past you "Bet ill be you there first" you rolled your eyes "Unlike you im in no rush to get there" you say slightly annoyed he would even talk to you you started to ignore him which made him annoyed and just leave you alone.

—

Finally, after a few minutes you made it to where the Sully kids were Neteyam looked over and noticed you and smiled and walked up to you and hugged you "Hey Tey" you said smiling Lo'ak looked over hearing your voice and a sight pain hit his heart as he watched you hug Neteyam.

You walked over to him and sat next to him he pouted you rolled your eyes smiling "Oh my what is it this time" you crossed his arms and turned his head away from you kind of like a baby who doesn't get what they wanted "Im offended you hugged Neteyam before me" you looked at him with disbelief and started laughing "This is what its about," you continued to laugh he only glared at you "Lo'ak i apologize i hugged Tey before you even if he greeted me before you" you said sarcastically before hugging him dramatically before jumping up and turning to your group of friends "Who want to go swimming?" Everyone nodded and headed to the river.

—

it was starting to get late the sun was almost setting and you and kiri were talking on a rock about random things, and laughing while watching everyone play in the water you looked at Kiri and asked her “What would i do if i liked someone…you know more than a friend” she looked at you wide eyed.

—

Lo’ak had looked over at the sound of your laugh and only heard little bit of the conversation “What would i do if i liked someone… you know more than a friend” he didn’t know why but your words hurt him his energy was off the rest of the day and he just headed back home before it got to late and he didn’t tell you goodbye you weren’t the only on who noticed this Kiri noticed too.

—

You all went back to the mountains where the Na’vi stayed Kiri told Jake she would be walking you back home since it would eclipse “Bye Lo’ak, bye Neteyam” Neteyam waved bye but Lo’ak just ignored you making you stare at him in confusion.

As you and Kiri walked you were thinking about how Lo’ak was acting “What’s wrong?” you looked at her “I’m just thinking about how Lo’ak was acting back at home” you look away from her and at the path ahead of you both “Well, i mean Lo’ak likes you and we all know that you like him back and maybe he heard some of our conversation and took it as you liked someone else” you looked at her slightly guilty “I hope not…I would feel terrible.”

Kiri and you arrived at your home you turned to her and hugged her “Thanks for the talk love you bye” she smiled “No problem love you too bye” she waved as she walked back towards her home as you shut the door behind you.

Your parents looked at you with warm smiles but their expressions changed after seeing your face your mom was the first to speak “You okay baby?” you nodded and took the mask off hanging it up where it’s meant to and walked to your room.

Your parents were left there confused after a few minutes and getting ready for bed and everything you came back to your room and laid under the blankets just sitting alone with your thoughts until your bedroom door opened and you looked up.

“Oh hi momma” you sat up in your bed your back resting against the head board looking at her “What’s wrong?” “Noth-“ she cut you off before you could finish talking “And don’t say nothing your a shitty lier” you sighed “Tell me what happened”

You told her everything and for a moment it was quiet “Look here’s what i’d tell you to do talk him one on one, no friends, no eavesdroppers, just you and him then tell him about how you feel and shit” you laughed at her words “Maybe” “Love ya” “Love you too” she headed for the door and was about to close it then stopped turning around “Oh yea your avatars almost fully matured” you smiled “Hell yea.”

—

The next night you told Kiri about your plan and went and found Lo’ak dragging him along with you “Bro hurry up” he laughed at you sprinting ahead of him “Hey! don’t fall your mask might break” he said his voice full of worry as you ran, even if he’s not the one you like he couldn’t bring himself to stop caring for you.

You came to a stop at the top of a tree overlooking some of Pandora “Shit” Lo’ak said as he stopped almost running into you grabbing you by your shoulders to keep you both steady.

You laughed at his face but didn’t ignore the fact his energy was still off your turned away from him and sat down allowing your legs to hang off the tree edge, staring at the world in front of you the world looked as if it was almost fake, it was dark but the bioluminescence forest lit up the night, the moon hung over Pandora like a blanket, you could hear animals running around and making noises, and the air smelled like fresh grass and free soil the smell relaxed you.

You stared at the world in front of you. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you for sometime Lo’ak broke it with his voice to “So why’d you bring me out here” you looked at him having to think of your words “Well i want to tell you something I-“ Lo’ak cut you off “Y/n i’m happy for you really i’m glad you found someone” you looked at him confused “I’m sorry what,” you then started to laugh “your joking right, please tell me your joking.”

You noticed he was being serious, and your laughing stopped as you sighed and looked at him "Lo'ak who do you think i like?" He looked out at Pandora "Neteyam" you burst out laughing "Fuck no i do not like Neteyam" he looked at you shocked "What do you mean" you looked at him "Holy shit Lo’ak your slow are you gonna make me do something to get it threw your head.”

“What-“ before he could finish you kissed him Lo’ak’s eyes widened his heart rate increased he relaxed and melted into the kiss, the two of you broke apart you then hugged him just sitting there looking at pandora.

—

“Lo’ak” Neytiri was looking for her son because it was past eclipse the sight she saw was one she never wanted to see again her son was kissing the human girl she had never wanted around he eyes widened and she ran over to the two of you ripping you apart she hissed at you causing you to stand up and get as far away as you could “Mo-“ Neytiri looked at her son the anger in her eyes causing his words to get caught in his throat “I don’t want you around my son nor my family do i make myself clear” she said anger lacing her words you only nodded and headed back to your humble abode.

That night you laid in bed you couldn’t tell if you were mad or sad, you really didn’t feel anything besides the tears pooling down your face you were mainly just confused as to how Spider can still hangout with them even with all the shit going on between him and Kiri that’s what you were mad and sad because you no longer could you ended up just watching Nexflix on your tablet since your parents still had a connection from earth you could watch movies here so that what you did.

—

Lo’ak was angry at dinner Neytiri seemed to think she did a good job as a mother telling Y/n she didn’t want her around her kids she had yet to tell Jake of this Lo’am was to angry to be hungry.

Jake noticed “What’s wrong Lo’ak” all the anger that had built up exploded out of him “Mom told Y/n she doesn’t want her around me or any of us she thinks Y/n’s just like the other people, even though you were a human too the only difference was you went into your avatars body so i don’t fucking understand what the difference is between you and Y/n you had a avatar to put your soul in while Y/n doesn’t THATS the only fucking difference she’s still a human and so is dad with or without his Na’vi body and not even you,” Lo’ak pointed to his mom “can deny that you still choose to save him in his human form so before you say anything about Y/n think about how hypocritical your being!” with that he stood up and stomped out of the hut and grabbed his Ikran and flew away.

Jake looked at Neytiri a anger she’s never seen before in his eyes “Neteyam, Kiri take Tuk outside and do something i need to have a talk with your mother” they nodded and headed outside.

“What’s wrong with you” she looked offended “Me ?! Y/n’s kind killed my father, my sister, ruined my home, her and Lo’ak kissed and you ask me what wrong with me” Jake sighs “Me and her father are close He’s like my brother Y/n is like my niece and for you to just push her away and forbid her from seeing our children is bullshit, Tuk loves her like a sister, you have no right to do that Neytiri.”

—

Lo’ak flew to the lab you lived at and landed his Ikran and crept to your window he peaked inside the room seeing you laying there watching people moving on your screen he recalled you had called it ‘Netflix’ whatever that is he noticed your tear stained face, your red nose, and puffy eyes as if you’ve been crying your whole life made his ears press flat against his head and his his expression change to that of sadness, sadness because he knew it was his mom who said those hurtful things to you, sadness because he knew he couldn’t disobey his mom and be with a human.

Lo’ak hated that word human what was the point of that word honestly every human he’s seen looked the same besides skin color, hair color, hair texture, and gender but they all had hair, five fingers like himself, without tails, and weren’t blue, Na’vi have the same thing most are blue or some shade of blue, have four fingers, no hair besides their head and ends of their tails.

Lo’ak knew his dad was once human which is why he was angry when his mom yelled at you to never come back, means no more hanging out with him, no more making flower crowns with Tuk or telling her stories, no more making fun of Neteyam with him, no more annoying kiri, nothing at all just how it was before he met you, the thought made his sick to his stomach.

Ears still flat against his head and nervousness flooded his body and mind he hesitantly knocked on your window waiting for you to notice him, when you finally did you’re glum expression changed to one of happiness as you paused your show and climbed across your bed to the window to open it you had no idea why he went to your window when your parents always allow him over no matter the time but still you opened the window and allowed him to clime inside his tail bumping your vines and tabistrys hanging off your wall and ceiling.

“Lo’ak watch the tail” he looked confused then noticed he had pulled down a vine and was now wrapped around his tail you helped him get out of the vine before sitting back down in the bed and covering yourself up allowing your body to claim back its warmth.

Lo’ak sits on the edge of your bed not knowing where to start you just watch him waiting for him to do something as your waiting your mom walks in the room and stops before she’s all the way in “Lo’ak when’d you get here, why didn’t you just use the door?,” she laughs slightly “anyways Y/n your avatar will be read to be taken out next week” she said a large smile on her face and shut the door and walked back down the hall, which made you smile.

Lo’ak looked confused “What’s an avatar?” you laughed slightly “It’s my Na’vi body, that looks like me, it just has some human things to it like you” you said smiling before everything was quiet again.

“I’m sorry” you looked confused “for what?” his ears were now flat against his head while his face showed sadness “My mom…” you smiled sadly at him “It’s okay, you’ve got nothing to do with it, but you shouldn’t come around here anymore since i don’t want you to get into anymore trouble” you weren’t sure if it was possible but his ears laid even flatter against his head sad by what you said but he knew it was true.

“We can watch Netflix, listen to music before you go?” he smiled it made him happy you still wanted him around you just didn’t want to get him in trouble, the two of you cuddled the rest of the night watching a show until it was time for him to leave.

“Bye Lo’ak.”

—

It had been a year since the last time you or Lo’ak seen each other, you had somewhat gotten over the fact Neytiri had forbid you from seeing Lo’ak and the rest of them, you’ve gotten used to fact Neytiri forbid you from seeing Lo’ak and the rest of them, you’ve gotten used to using your avatar along side your parents, even joining them in the lab and doing experiments which you loved, celebrating your 16th birthday, you missed Lo’ak with your whole soul but what were you to do.

Lo’ak on the other hand hated he hadn’t seen you, his family had to leave to find a place to protect them and the people, him and his family went to the Metkayina a few months before, but then Kiri had a seizure and Jake contacted Norm and Max to come see what was wrong.

—

“Uncle Norm, uncle Max where are we going?” you asked as you were packing your things “Something happened so hurry and meet us at the helicopter” uncle Max said before him and Norm walked out the lab.

You had gotten the rest of your stuff around and walked out heading for the helicopter. You were interested in knowing where you were going but your uncles would tell you anything, Max was your biological uncle because of your mom while Norm was kinda just a close friend of your dad.

You sat there looking at the landscape in-front of you “Holy shit!” you laughed with a smile your Uncle Max smiled at your reaction “Language” he said “Please you were smiling at me” you said rolling your eyes.

This was your first time seeing the ocean and the animals jumping out of it “This is amazing” you said while smiling.

Soon you had landed when you hopped out many pale-ish blue Na’vi were staring at you whispers coming from each of them things like “Her hairs curly like ours but with more noticeable curls” etc. you get it, you walked past then and seen Jake you ran to him and hugged him he gladly hugged you back “Hey kid” he said laughing you let him go forgetting how tall Na’vi are Max and Norm walked up to him “Where is she?” Jake nodded and led them through the village to their marui your eyes widened at the sight “Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with my friend!” you say to Jake “Take it easy, we don’t know” you sigh “I’ll take some scans” Max and Norm nodded.

You scanned her body “So Jake what happened?” Jake had to recall what happened “The kids said she connected her queue to the tree the Metkayina people have her similar to the tree of souls and she just passed out” you look closely “She had a seizure, but it shows nothing wrong with her, her brain work seems perfect, you can let her do it again” Jakes eyes widened “What never??” you sighed standing up “If she does this again and has a seizure under water, she may not survive this time she was lucky.”

Ronal walks in and looks at you and your uncles “It seems i am not needed here” she turns to walk away Neytiri says something to her before your all kicked out Max and Norm are ready to go as they walk back to the helicopter and seen Neteyam and hugged him smiling “Holy shit- Y/n, i’ve missed you” he said hugging you back disbelief in his voice “i gotta go catch up with my Uncles ill see you later” you jogged off catching up with the two grown men “We aren’t leaving yet, not until i know Kiri is gonna be okay” They looked at each other knowing you weren’t gonna let this one slide “Fine” they both said you put your stuff in the helicopter and grabbed your music player and a hair tie you put your hair into a makeshift bun just so it could hold your curls securely and put the headphones on and walked along the beach.

You thought about life a year ago, how you missed Lo’ak, but now you’ve changed within that year gap of not seeing him, you’ve matured a bit more and acted somewhat differently, you didn’t take that many adventures around Pandora anymore, you worked in the lab with your parents and other scientists, became less naive, became more closed off in a way, kept to yourself, got a hell of a lot stronger, you wondered what Lo’ak would think of you now it was eating you alive thinking of all the possibilities.

What if he found a mate.

What if he doesn’t like the person you’ve become.

What if he forgot about you.

No, Lo’ak couldn’t have forgotten about you, but then again where was he you only seen Neteyam, Lo’ak was no where to be found you sighed and dipped you feet into the water allowing yourself to relax and breath.

Soon your thoughts were interrupted by laughing this caught your attention so you walked over your eyes widened seeing Lo’ak with another girl it kinda hurt you knowing he probably moved on from you, but it hurt knowing he made a friendship like your and his with someone else.

You turned to walk away leaving you in your thoughts once again with tears rolling down your face and your curls sticking to the tear trail, before you were pulled out your thoughts ones again “Hey! who are you come back here!” the person yelled based off the voice it was Lo’aks just slightly deeper.

You started to walk faster your face already cleared of tears your only focus was getting as far away from here as you could.

A hand landed on your shoulder to your shock without thinking you grabbed the arm twisted it and pulled it forward flipping the person onto the ground then landing with a thud you eyes widened “Shit i’m sorry” you say quickly before helping the person up.

“It’s all good” the person said brushing the sand out their hair you were very short compared to the Na’vi in front of you “You sure? I did kinda just flip you onto your back” you nervously laugh the Na’vi looks at you then their eyes widen with shock.

—

Lo’ak and Tsireya were laughing in the water, oh how he wished he was laughing with Y/n.

Lo’ak longed for Y/n everyday since the last time he saw her but when he started to hang out with tsireya the more he longed.That was until he noticed a small human looking figure walking away from the beach where they were “Lo’ak someone’s watching us” reya pointed to the fleeing figure making Lo’ak go after them and end up where he was now in front of the person that flipped him onto his back.

—

You stood there not sure if he recognized you, the other Na’vi walks up to Lo’ak and rest her hands on his arms giving you a bitchy look you roll your eyes not caring she was taller than you.

The girl looked at you as she held Lo’ak tightly against her “If you don’t mind we’re hanging out at the moment” you rolled your eyes “Yup, my bad” you said moving your body past Lo’aks.

The pair watched you leave Lo’ak thinking you looked and sounded familiar but he didn’t have much time to think about it since reya pulled him along with her Lo’ak kept watching your figure that was until he heard Tuk scream a name he hasn’t heard in years.

“Y/n!!!.”

Lo’aks eyes widened and he ripped his arm from reyas “Lo’ak?” she asked confused “Not right now Reya” Lo’ak ran until he caught sight of the you.

—

“Hey Tuk” you said looking at her “You’ve gotten shorter” Tuk laughed “Oh? maybe it’s because you’ve gotten taller-“ your words were cut off as you hit the ground “I missed you so so much” you looked down it was Lo’ak he had his arms wrapped around your waist while tears streamed down his face “I missed you too Lo’ak” you said kissing the top of his head over and over again.

—

When Neytiri seen you a Lo’ak hanging out she hated it, Jake on the other hand was happy to see his son so happy.

Tsireya on the other hand was not so much she blamed you for taking Lo’ak away from her even though it had only been a few months she knew she wanted to mate with him, you were extremely nice to her wanting to get to know her after Lo’ak introduced the two of you, when meeting her you could tell she hated you but you stayed being nice no matter what.

You and Lo’ak spent time together all the time from morning to night, when Kiri finally woke up it was time to leave.

Lo’ak greeted you that morning only to find out you had to leave “You leaving already?!” you smiled sadly “Lo’ak you know i can’t stay here even when if wanted to i couldn’t there no place for a human here” you said looking around eyes settling on Tsireya knowing she would be happier if you left “But when would i see you again?!” you smiled sadly “I’m not sure Lo’ak, but i can promise it’ll be very soon.”

You hugged Lo’ak he hugged you back just as tightly his tail wrapping around your human figure, Tsireya felt a growl in her throat as she watched.

You and Lo’ak parted ways once you’re feet hit the helicopter floor but you knew you’d be seeing him sooner than you thought.

This is gonna have a part two or this is gonna be a hell of a lot longer then it needs to be

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #jake sully #pandora #lo’ak #neteyam #atwow loak #lo’ak avatar #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x you

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 1. Chimney Soot [A1]

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Delaford Estate

A/N: IT'S THE FIRST OF DECEMBER AND RICKMAS2023 IS STARTING! 😍👏 We're kicking it off with our sweet Colonel Brandon - tbh it feels like a tradition to start with him now 😂👍 - and I'm so, so, so ready for this year's event to unfold. I have so many stories in my head I hope to write this year and there will be more longer fics (several parts) this year if all goes as planned too! IIIIIIIH I'M SO EXCITED!

Thank you for being here and know that no matter at what time you read my fics I always, always, always love to hear from my readers so even if you're here in 2027 don't hesitate to leave comments if you want to 🥰 I hope my writing shenanigans can spread some joy and warmth up until Christmas Eve and I am so THANKFUL to all who has messaged me through the year about being excited for this event - your encouragement means so much! THANK YOU! And let's get this show on the roa-, err, screen! 🤭❤

Tags/TW’s: Mentions [past lashings, past family trauma, lack of family], Hunger, Being Cold, Being lost in life, Old friendships, Being afraid/Feeling fear, “Want/Longing at first sight”, Hidden identity, Running away, Accidental embrace.

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name | Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Word Count: 2.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Snow flitted toward the ground; little lifeless flakes of frozen water droplets turned to crispy beauty. The first sign of the approach of true winter. You shivered and pulled your tattered cloak closer toward your body while the hem barely reached your ankles. The basket within your grasp was too heavy, the breaths you drew too cold.

Life would soon turn ruthless beyond compare for you. No home, no family, no sanctuary from the biting chill nor the clinging wetness of melting snow resting upon your shivering shoulders. Yet still, you walked on. The only one left in the world who would possibly offer help lived just beyond the hill you shakily climbed while the ground beneath your feet began to turn white.

Miss Mary had been a friend of your mother. The only one remaining after all the years of seclusion crafted by your father. He had always been a man of madness — of possessive rage, and harsh fists. Life, as you knew it, had always been cruel and unkind. From the moment you were able to hold a broom somewhat upright you’d been put to work by the man who created you and no protection had come from the woman who birthed you. May you burn in the fire pits of hell for all the years to come, you thought as you gripped the wicker basket with whitening knuckles.

The wind whipped your hair about, loosening it from both clips and bonnet alike. You lowered your gaze and trudged on, avoiding the flakes endeavouring to stab your eyes as you came to the top of the hill. You took no time to rest, merely following the road down toward the fork where you would take a left and hopefully within no time at all arrive at the estate. Please, please let Mary be there at this time…

The forking of the road came and went, your body turned nearly numb while the wind picked up all around. Then it appeared, like a fairytale castle nestled between old oaks and stretching walls of moss-covered stone. Light flickered in the windows, a warm glow calling out to stave off the encroaching night as the sun said its farewell and abandoned you.

Your feet felt like blocks of ice as you moved up the narrow stone steps at the back of the building, where servants entered the estate unseen by its owners and guests. You reached out and knocked, your frozen hand feeling the echo of the impact yet the numbness made you wonder if perhaps you’d merely graced the old wood.

The door opened a moment later, a wave of warmth from within flooding you for a second. “Yes?” said the older gentleman while holding a candle up to shed light upon your harrowed face. “Sir, I am Miss Y/n Y/l/n,” you began with a shake to your voice as you shivered profusely. “Does Miss Mary still hold a position in this household?” you enquired while raising your gaze toward the man who seemed somewhat friendly, there was no glare of distaste in his eyes at the very least. “Oh, she does, are you a friend of hers, Miss Y/l/n?” “My mother was, I do not know if she remembers me very well though.” “Well, step inside, Sir Brandon would be most unhappy about keeping a woman out in the cold while waiting,” the man continued and you scrunched your eyebrows, you were not sure who Sir Brandon was beyond being the owner of the estate and a colonel.

The man walked off in a quick stride while you stood just inside the door. You were too cold and wet for the warmth in the servants’ entrance hall to be of any real use to you so you kept shivering while remaining in your wet clothes which still had little flakes of snow stuck in the fibres.

“Goodness me,” a familiar voice said on a gasp. Miss Mary appeared in the doorway with her hand pressed against her chest in something you could only describe as shock. “Miss Mary,” you said with a quiver to your voice. “I’m sorry for appearing in such a manner, without an invitation nor a word of my arrival beforehand,” you continued quietly while you tried your utmost to hold on to the basket while your numb fingers ached with the prickling of needles as the warmth slowly began to thaw you. “Y/n, dear oh dear,” she whispered as she walked up to you, a sweet worry half visible in her features that had you sigh a deep breath of relief.

***

When morning came you were warm and comfortable for the first time since early summer. You hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in months and the rest had done wonders even if your entire body still ached from the backbreaking work you had managed to procure in recent times.

You wasted no time getting up and dressed. Just as you secured your tattered bonnet a knock came from the door. You opened it only to find Miss Mary with a bundle of neatly folded clothes in her arms, a warm smile tinted with worry gracing her lips.

“These are for you, dear,” she said and stepped inside before you closed the door behind her. “Master Brandon is a fine gentleman and I spoke to him on your behalf, you now hold a position here at Delaford.” You blinked at her words, unable to fully grasp them, or the ease she spoke of her master with. You had yet to meet a kind master; your doubt of the man was not unfounded but not supported either.

“I have work? Here? With you?” you asked, dubious but also relieved beyond measure. Grateful for Miss Mary’s kindness. “Not with me, dear. I am one of five housemaids, I am sectioned to the upper west quarters. I have procured you work as a scullery maid, Cook is a strict woman but fair. She sees hard work and those who do their due diligence under her are rewarded thusly. You will also keep the main fireplace in order, sorting the coal and wood stocking, sweeping the ashes, and polishing the spark guard. Mrs Thatch is old of age and struggles with this task of her allocated quarters, hence it now falls to you,” Miss Mary said, rattling it all off with precision while moving about in your newly acquired room — tugging at the faded curtains, straightening a pillow. The familiarity with her mannerisms and speech was a comfort to you, remembering it from many years ago when you had been but a tiny child.

“Thank you, Miss Mary.” She nodded at you with her tight but kind smile. “Miss Mary,” she said quietly, “been many years since I was called that.” “Oh?” “It’s Mrs Garber now, Y/n. And, as I’m sure you are aware, you are below my station and hence will call me by that name from now on. I shall call you by your first name, as is practice.” You nodded at her words, they weren’t spoken harshly, just in a no-nonsense sort of way.

“Well, Mrs Garber, thank you for all of this. I will do my absolute best so you’re pleased and stay in good grace with the master.” “Oh, I do not doubt it. Now, change into your new clothes after you’ve bathed, you reek of street and dirt. We cannot have that.” You blushed deeply. “I shall do so instantly.” “The kitchen is to the left of where you entered yesterday, you will find your way to Cook on your own?” You nodded and smiled at the kind woman before she left the room with another smile aimed at you.

***

Mrs Garber had been right. Cook was a strict woman, ruling her kitchen with a sense of urgency to everything. But you managed to keep up, managed to not be in the way while doing your tasks around the others flying about with spoons, pots, pans, chopping boards, and all types of food going from one part of the kitchen to another in a flurry.

You were putting back a giant pot you’d just scrubbed to an inch of its life — making the iron nearly shine in the dim light — when Cook told you to pay attention. It was first then you noticed the little bell to your right (one among many) was chiming gently. You wiped your hands, stowed away the rag, and grabbed one of the coal baskets before leaving the hectic kitchen behind. With the heavy basket in a tight grip you silently, stealthily, moved through the estate toward the main part where you’d order the fireplace as the little bell indicated needed doing.

The room was grand, with large pillars lining the walls in stony white and shining floors reflecting the warm glow of the chandelier high above. You did your best to keep to the outskirts, blending in as well as you could with the environment despite there not being anyone in the room. You picked up the pace, sat the heavy basket by the fireplace, and got to work clearing out the old ashes after placing a sheet beneath to protect the flooring.

After emptying everything, sweeping the last bit of dust out, and wiping the grills you leaned in to inspect the stone — making sure there was nothing left — only to look up and see a whole clogging of soot just beyond reach from your seated position. Oh, fabulous… That’ll take me up the chimney to clean. You sighed deeply and grabbed the poker next to the fireplace before crawling inside the fireplace to reach the clogging. T his hasn’t been cleaned in ages.

You squinted, aiming for the clog, only to halt mid-motion. You grabbed your handkerchief and tied it around your face to not inhale whatever was about to come down on you. You grabbed the poker anew, aimed, and jabbed at the nearly rock-hard piece. It took three hard jabs before you broke through the exterior and the heavens rained down soot and ashes atop you.

You didn’t have time to turn away, to back out of the tight space, or even cover your face before you were covered in grey and black. Glorious, perfect, now I’ll be dragging dust and soot all through the house! Mrs Garber will be scolded for making the master hire such a travesty for a scullery maid. I’ll be out on the streets again… Your thoughts swirled while your eyes watered as you kept working on clearing the clogging, you were already a complete mess of chimney soot either way, why not spare the others the suffering if you were already to be scolded for messing up the newly swabbed floors. Your hand fisted, but you resisted the urge to hit the hard surface around you in the tight space, breaking your hand would do nobody any good.

“I believed Santa Claus to be a red-dressed man,” came the most delicious, gravely voice. It echoed all around you in the tight space as your entire body froze. “It seems, I was mistaken,” the man continued and it sounded as if he were even closer. You looked down only to see the most handsome face peering up at you from below.

Your eyes widened, your mouth agape under the handkerchief as you took in the sweet smile, the flowy hair, the hooked nose and gentle eyes. “You are not the mysterious man of Christmas, are you, miss?” he asked and your knees trembled in secret — hidden behind your drab dress that used to be white with a black apron, it was now all grey. You managed to shake your head though, and he chuckled. The sweetest sound ever to grace your ears, amplified by the echo of the chimney you stood in.

“Miss, I believe this is the work of a chimney man, a sweeper.” “I-, I-, Sir, it was clogged,” you managed to say, even if it came out muffled. “I was cleaning the hearth, saw the clog and thought I ought to take care of it. It’s-, it’s a fire hazard. I wouldn’t-, wouldn’t want the grand colonel’s house to burn down, Sir.” “The colonel?” he asked, tilting his head, or, well, he tilted his head further — how was he even looking up at you? He must be bent most awkwardly. “Yes, Sir. The colonel who saw fit to hire even a scullery maid such as I,” you said. “Mrs Garber professes him to be a most wonderful master. I’ve yet to meet the man, but I dare say I shan’t have such a pleasure after the mess I’ve caused… Sir,” you replied in a near ramble, flustered by how the man peered at you most gently. Sweeter on the eyes than any man you’d ever witnessed before. The red coat with golden details you could just hint from his shoulder complimented his skin, his hooked nose was oddly beautiful paired with his strong cheekbones and thin lips.

“A wonderful master, you say, miss?” “Yes, Sir. Mrs Garber told me so.” “Will you step out of the chimney, this position hardly warrants for decent conversation, miss.” “S-sir, I am not one for you to hold decent conversations with, I’m merely a scullery maid.” He chuckled at that, again sending trembles through your already weak knees. “Miss, out of the chimney, if you please,” he said but his voice was gentle and calm, almost a hint of something warm to it. “We shall order a sweeper to visit, you ought not feel the need to take on such a task.”

The man disappeared from the chimney, making you realise his head had been right by those trembling legs of yours, far too close for decency but that was due to the lack of space of course. You drew a steadying breath and began to crouch, backing out of the fireplace with minuscule motions so as not to make the dust flare up. Your foot found the edge of the raised stone and you tried not to turn around too quickly even if your heart hammered at the prospect of seeing the gentleman fully.

You stood up too quickly. Your head banged the edge of the mantel, your other foot stepped right on the edge of the plateau, your trembling knees wobbled and you stumbled out onto to polished floor — your arms flailing, your dress swirling while spreading dust all over. No, no, no! You headed toward the floor in a dusty mess when the man caught you up, his strong body firmly pressed against yours as he took your weight with ease, not even faltering a single step at the sudden impact.

His hands squeezed around your waist, the warmth of his skin penetrating the two layers of fabric almost instantly while a tingle, unlike any other, shot through you. Your hands had grabbed his biceps, strong and unyielding beneath your palms. You blinked rapidly to clear the soot from your lashes while tilting your head only to find him peering down at you with those gentle eyes — a curiosity within them.

“Sir, I’m terribly sorry,” you exhaled shakily as he helped you straighten. Your eyes flickered away from him only to find a literal imprint of dust over his front, outlining you. “I’m terribly, terribly, terribly sorry,” you rushed out in a mere breath as you backed away from him, bowed and your eyes on the polished boots he wore. “Miss, are you well?” he asked while taking a step toward you. “Oh, I’ve made a mess of you, Sir,” you whispered while thoughts of being back out on the street swam through your head in a sea of fear and worry. Surely, the colonel will cast me out, making a mess of a guest of his. A guest so kind and sweet to boot too.

“The floors!” came a shrill old voice from behind you. “Maid! What have you done to the floo— And the colonel! ” the voice shrieked. Your eyes widened, your entire body draining of the warmth his gentle eyes and thunderously gravely voice had inflected upon it. The colonel? You wished to curl up right then and there, to disappear completely. “I’m-, I’m-, I’m so terribly sorry, Sir-, Colonel,” you squeaked, desperate to keep your tears from running down your soot-covered cheeks. It was useless. The clicking of servant heels from behind you, the nearly scrutinizing eyes from the man before you, the shaking of your shoulders, and the lack of breath in your lungs all had you in a vice grip of fear. Last time you left a stain on polished floors you’d endured four lashings over your naked hands. Hands you were now gripping tightly before you, wringing them and spreading the now moist soot all over them.

You couldn’t stay there. You had already made such a mess, made a fool of yourself, and created problems for the very man who employed you — probably out of pity, or worse because Mrs Garber stuck out her neck for you. You did the only thing you could do. You bowed as deep as your body would allow and just as the other servant with the shrill voice reached your side you bolted — spreading dust all around while running towards the kitchens to get to your room where you’d change into your own clothes and leave before any lashing could be given.

“Miss!” came that thunderous voice. “Miss, wait!” he called in a rush that managed to stroke your spine, within your skin. The most pleasurable sound you’d ever heard came from the man who employed you and whose clothes and floors you had just darkened with chimney soot and ashes — as if you were tarnishing the man himself with your very presence in his grand estate.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: THE FIRST FIC OF RICKMAS2023! 😍👏 Oh I hope you enjoyed this little introduction to this yeas event - as you've probably noticed I am using a system of numbers and letters to make it easier to find which fics that belong to each other this year, I hope it'll be of help as I have hopes for doing several longer fics with several parts this year.

Anyway, I hope you're ready for another December of fan-derful reading, darling! 👏❤ Please do say hello in the comments if you want to, and as I've noticed it's sometimes difficult to know what to comment or find the courage to do so without any prompting I'm promoting you from the very beginning! 🥰

MERRY RICKMAS DARLINGS! 💚

I'll be adding a question in the End Note of each fic, so if you don't know what to comment you can always answer that if you want to let me know you're here and having a good time. I'll add my own answer as well! ❤❤❤

Q: Who's your favourite Alan Rickman character? 😍 A: For me it's Judge Turpin! 👀

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[Dec:2023]

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