#and replace the entire keyboard

[chocodile]

art fight???? how???

hey, could you explain a little about the art fight thing? i want to fight people !1!1!

Art Fight is an art gifting and trading game! It's been running in some form or another since (quickly checks about page) 2007 apparently but I've been playing it since 2016.

The way the game/event works is outlined here on the site's About page. Basically you just pick other users and draw free art for them of their characters--art you make for other people is called "attacks", and if you're lucky, they'll get "revenge" by drawing something back for you of one of your own characters, too!

There's a light framework of "teams" and "points" overlaid on top of that "draw art of others' OCs" concept to gamify it and give it a fun aesthetic (with team themes like sun vs moon, vampires vs werewolves, etc), but there are no prizes for the winning team, you can freely draw stuff for people on your own team, you can switch teams at any time, and... honestly most users don't really care about teams or points and are just in it for the OC gift art aspect of it.

I'm a huge fan of it because Art Fight feels like one of the last places on the internet that is by and for artists exclusively. On Art Fight you can openly relish in the fact that you're obsessed with one of your characters, or show off this idea for a cool story and setting you want to turn into a novel someday, or proudly display the fact that you've been worldbuilding in-depth dragon lore for a decade and be totally and completely surrounded on all sides by people who not only get it, but also are all doing the same thing. It's also a great way to give some love and support to beginner artists.

Some tips on how to have a better Art Fight experience:

Don't go in with the expectation that you'll get a ton of art, especially your first year. Your main goal should be to make gifts for other people.

If you are hoping to get "revenges" back, try to "attack" people who are definitely playing this year (as in, have drawn at least one attack this summer) but who aren't already swamped with a ton of attacks to "revenge" already. (Attacking only very popular/professional artists who get more attacks then they could ever possibly keep up with will leave you feel disappointed... that said, it's arguably worth attempting a few, just in case you get lucky, because that's how I got a drawing from Shoomlah, one of my childhood art idols!)

If you have an art blog, promote your Art Fight stuff to your followers there so they know you're playing. Playing with a group of friends is also more fun than playing solo 'cause you can always attack each other if you're not getting many revenges. Leaving nice comments on other people's characters and art can also help make you more visible/leave a good impression if you're brand new to the game.

Points and teams seriously don't matter at all, even a little. I suggest not paying them any attention at all beyond picking the team theme you think is cooler.

It's best to at least skim a character's profile and rules before drawing them. Not only does it help you get a better feel for the character, sometimes people put useful design details there instead of on their refs.

One more thing: Don't take Art Fight too seriously! You and everyone else are here to have fun. Don't get hung up on art "quality"--lots of people (including myself) are only doing headshots or sketches. Don't get upset if someone forgets a detail on your character or doesn't draw them quite "right". Don't get hung up on numbers or "ratios" or feel too stung if someone doesn't comment on or revenge something you draw for them. After all, Art Fight is for all types of artists, including young artists who don't fully understand netiquette rules yet, busy adults with full time jobs, people with disabilities that make it hard for them to communicate or hard for them to type or leave them with limited energy... etc. That doesn't mean they didn't appreciate what you drew for them!

Wow, I wrote too much. I should probably stop typing and go draw something for Art Fight before it gets too late in the evening!

TL;DR: Fun art gifting game. Great to rub elbows with other creatives for a month! Feels like an online convention of sorts! A+! Would recommend.

#art fight #art fight 2023 #my 'e' key is going and I am suffering immensely for it #typing is so difficult at the moment #my band aid fix worked for a while but I think I will have to disassemble my laptop #and replace the entire keyboard #man. I usually don't have to do that until the fan starts going out at like the 4 year mark. #but this keyboard situation is really draining my sanity every time I type anything at all #anyway #anon #replies #not an art post #also sorry for not answering messages... been very busy... then art fight started... now keyboard broken... #universe does not want me to answer messages it seems

[citrusella-flugpucker]

"Willard R. Abbott was racist!"

"👀 --Well, now we know what the R stands for"

...oh my goodness

#abbott elementary #if i had been drinking something i would have to replace my entire laptop instead of just its keyboard

[rocicrew]

so um, my keyboard is fried except the q which is pressed constantly just a week and a half before uni starts and as a graphics major i am Fucked

#my hobbies and uni just went out the window #im just Tired and idk how to replace it #even if i do order a new keyboard i have to disassemble my entire laptop #and im afraid to do more damage but if i give somewhere in a tech i will not have it back by the time i have to start my assignments #no pfttt i haven't been crying #bc this literally the tip of the iceberg #AND AND it happened the night the extended warranty ended #and im rlly trying to hold everything together bc ive been told im overreacting #i had hope it would be fixed but it's just getting Worse

[rubberbandballqueen]

all things considered it was a Huge relief to just have my computer fixed by having air blown on it yesterday bc i do Not have the money to get the keyboard replaced, the time to have it sent in for up to a month, or the space for an external keyboard

#replacing the entire keyboard would likely run somewhere around $600 for parts + labor and i'm not paying that #on a laptop i paid ~$740 for three-ish years ago #the worm speaks

[falling-endlessly]

The Lesson

Vox x Reader

Summary: Vox comes home to find you lying in a pool of your own blood.

As soon as the security cameras in your shared penthouse went dark, he knew something was very, very wrong.

His screen shut off as he focused on any nearby surveillance cameras, only to find that he couldn't get a good angle no matter which direction he turned them to. With a feral growl of frustration, he sent himself through one of the ground-level cameras, ignoring the startled yelps of unsuspecting pedestrians as he zapped into existence.

A path parted for him as he stormed into the building, flashing into the elevator and rigging it to move four times as fast.

He barely restrained himself from just busting down the door in his terrified fury, instead carefully twisting open the doorknob with a white-knuckled fist.

Silence was the second warning. The apartment was never silent, either with Vark thumping around cheerfully or you humming to yourself as you moved through the hallways or tapped away at your keyboard.

The eerie lack of background noise sent an ice cold chill down his spine. He found that he could barely breathe.

With soundless steps, he crept further into the apartment, afraid of what he might—or might not find waiting for him.

He found Vark first, nearly stepping in the growing puddle of blood if he hadn't pulled his foot back in time. Vox strangled a noise in his throat, hastily dropping to his knees as he shrugged off his jacket and tied it as tightly around the shark's mangled side as he could, trying to staunch the bleeding. A numbing thought surfaced in his mind. If Vark was in this condition, then you...

No longer concerned with being silent or careful, Vox flashed into different rooms in your apartment. The bathrooms, the kitchen, the living room.

He found you in your shared bedroom, slumped against the wall as your hair shielded your face. Vox spasmed and glitched, having to mentally force himself to shove his worries in the back of his mind in order to keep control of his movements.

"Y/n?" He whispered, afraid to approach you. Terrified of what he might discover.

You didn't respond, making the cold ball in his chest expand until it felt like his airways were freezing solid. Like his entire body was shutting down.

No. NonoNONONONO.

He half stumbled, half fell at your feet, clawed hands grasping your soft arms and shaking lightly—then harder, when you stayed unresponsive. His knees were wet, something warm—blood, his mind unhelpfully supplied—and his vision was getting concerningly blurry. His hands slid up your shoulders, ignoring the large oozing gash across your chest, and cupped your limp face, where blood was also dripping down the right side in slow rivulets.

"Y/n?" His voice cracked.

When you didn't stir, he let out a choked sob, hastily divesting himself of his dress shirt and pressing the scrunched up ball into your open wound. You didn't even flinch. Fuck.

"Come on, sweetheart, don't do this to me," he said, voice strained as he desperately checked your vitals. His heart nearly stopped when he discovered that yours had.

"Noo," he moaned, sending bolts of electricity into your chest, fruitlessly trying to restart your failed heart. Cursed his lack of proper lips that made CPR that much more difficult.

It took a while before he stopped trying, tiring himself out until crushing sadness replaced the pulsing adrenaline. Vox leaned against the wall, panting as he cradled your cooling body in his lap. He held you when your lips went blue, stroking your hair tenderly like you were still alive. He held you until the first notes of color started to replenish your cheeks once more, until your chest began to delicately rise and fall as your insides repaired themselves.

When your eyelids finally fluttered open, it was to bloodshot, red rimmed ones staring back at you.

"Vox?" You whispered softly, causing your lover to let out a ragged breath. "W-What—?" And then suddenly it all came back to you with a jolt. The demons who broke in and killed you. They didn't want anything you offered them, only to cause as much pain to the TV demon as they possibly could. And what better way to kill him than with his heart? Your bottom lip shook as the horrible memories replayed in your mind, only cut off by the warm chest your face was shoved into.

"Don't," he croaked, shaking his head. "I can see what you're doing, stop it."

Your eyes welled as you let out your own shuddering breath, weak fingers coming up to clutch at the bare skin of his back. He held you as silent tears ran down your face, holding you tighter every time your fingers flexed.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

"They didn't want anything," you heaved, burying your face deeper in his shoulder. "Th-they just said they wanted to hurt you and—oh my god, Vark!" You immediately moved to get up, only to be pulled back down again.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed. "The cameras are back online, I can see him moving around in the kitchen." Internally though, his heart pounded with an incredible rage. So some suicidal fuckers thought they could break into his house and lay their hands on you? Holy fucking shit, when he got his hands on them they were going to wish they'd just stayed in the shadows. That was a promise.

You sagged with relief against him, and he let you stay curled up against him for a few more minutes, before he carried you to the shower. After gently helping you clean off, rubbing your tense muscles when your hands trembled, he dressed you in the fuzziest sleepwear you owned, before depositing you carefully under the silk covers.

"Don't leave," you pleaded, making his heart ache. He acquiesced, staying until he was sure you were asleep, before his screen went dark as he lost himself in the flowing web of information that he'd built himself.

His screen flashed red as a single eye opened. "Found you."

That morning you woke up to lean arms draped over you, a defined chest pressed tightly to your back. A small smile graced your lips.

"Morning," he whispered into your ear.

"Morning," you smiled back. And when you asked the silent question, did you do it? He nodded, pulling you closer.

You leaned your head on his chest, thank you. He squeezed your hand, of course.

***

Art inspiration for the scene “Found you.” HERE (from zerochan, as unfortunately I could not find the direct post)

Artist above (Kwiisha) twitter account HERE

#hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #vox #vox hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox hazbin #hazbin #vox x oc #hell #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fandom #established relationship #fluff #angst #comfort #homicide #demons #love #protective vox #soft vox #but also murderous vox #lol

[techconer]

How to Fix a Broken Key on a Laptop - Tech Coner

If you have a laptop and have ever slammed your finger on one of the keys (or dropped your laptop), then you've likely experienced the pain of having broken a key on your laptop. For those who have never experienced this, I don't recommend that you try it! If you break a key on your laptop, there are several things that you can do to fix it, depending on the severity of the damage. in this article, I will tell you how to fix a broken key on a laptop.

Before You Start:

When you have a laptop keyboard with missing or broken keys, fixing the problem is possible. 

One way to fix your keyboard is by removing the keycap and replacing it with one in good condition. This process can be done by following these steps: 

1) Turn off the laptop and unplug it from the power source if plugged in. Remove any attached devices like mice, external keyboards, or anything else plugged into the computer. 

2) Find an object that will fit underneath the critical cap, such as an old credit card or something similar.Fix a Broken Key on a Laptop

Guide: How to fix a broken key on a laptop:

This DIY guide will show you how to fix a broken key on your laptop using the key retainer. All you need is just one material, which can save you from spending money on a new keyboard or, even worse, starting over from scratch. To find out more, keep reading!

 Once you have your broken key and its retainer, follow these steps: Take off your laptop's keyboard from its base. Insert both retainer pieces between keys to prevent them from falling out. Put it back in place and enjoy your computer as if nothing happened! If you are having difficulties, watch some of our video guides above and pick one that works for you. Fixing a broken key is no rocket science, so don't wait; fix it now!

Step 1 (The before) 

Step 2 (The fix) 

Step 3 (It's fixed!) #3 X5

Customer Support You can also email us or get help at [email protected] if you have any questions or concerns regarding our manuals or parts. Your feedback helps us improve, so we want to hear from you! We hope this blog post has been helpful and if there is anything else we can do, please get in touch with us anytime.

Basic laptop keyboard key structure:

A laptop keyboard is made up of many different parts. The keycaps are the plastic caps that make contact with the keys, and the critical retainer holds the keycap in place. It can be challenging to fix a broken key, but fortunately, there are some steps you can take. First, remove any debris between the two parts of the broken key. Then use a small screwdriver or another tool to pry up both sides of the critical retainer while gently twisting it back and forth.

You should be able to remove both sides of your crucial retainer without causing any damage. Use tweezers or needle-nose pliers, if necessary, and replace them with a new ones. Always make sure you purchase one that's made specifically for your laptop. If you don't want to mess with fixing your keys, contact us, and we can help you with all your laptop needs.

Read More: Click Here

#laptop #fix a broken #Fix a broken key #How to fix a broken key on a laptop #Replacing the Key Cap #Replacing the Entire Keyboard #Preventing Future Breakage

[iicehoon]

LEVEL UP | STREAMER!SOOBIN X READER

︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

"NO NO NO NO," you heard your boyfriend, Soobin, yell in despair.

Glancing at the Snoopy-themed clock, it read 2:30 AM, marking five hours since he started streaming. You recalled his excitement about being sponsored by the game, hoping for future offers if it goes well.

Rising from your spot on the shared bed, you crossed the dimly lit hall to quietly open the door to his room. He remained intensely focused on the screen, the soft clicks of his mechanical keyboard echoing as you entered. Frustrated sighs followed each demise of his character on screen.

"Chat, you don't understand," he started, setting aside his keyboard and mouse. "No username, I am not taking backseat gaming or any advice from you. The last time I did that, it made me restart the ENTIRE game."

You chuckled softly, watching your boyfriend ruffle his hair in frustration. His slouched shoulders hinted that he was nearing his breaking point and pretty ready to end the stream.

"Binnie," you called out, settling into the beanbag adjacent to his desk.

Soobin perked up instantly at the sound of his name, swiftly removing his earbuds as he rose to approach you. "When did you come in?" he asked, crouching down to your level. Leaning in, he planted a kiss on your lips before gently settling on top of you, eliciting a surprised yelp at his sudden weight.

"You've been at it for five hours, hun," you said, poking his side playfully until he squirmed and finally got up after the tenth poke.

"Come here, and I'll show you why," he motioned you over, patting his lap. His followers knew about you because he couldn't help but talk about you at times, and they have seen your face from the times you brought him snacks or a drink during his streams.

"Hi Chat," You smiled, bringing your face closer to his webcam and giving them a little wave when you settled on his lap.

"Okay," Soobin placed his chin on your shoulder and returned his hands to the keyboard and mouse. "Just watch and see why I just can't get past this stupid level."

You weren't as big of a gamer as Soobin, but you knew your way around from the games he played or even those you tried yourself from the days when he didn't want to be at his computer.

One of the perks of having a gamer boyfriend who was also a popular streamer was having access to his Steam account and his credits to buy games that piqued your interest, often discovered from TikTok.

Your eyes analyzed his movements, and you couldn't help but giggle when he dropped his head, hitting the back of your neck. "I don't understand why it's not working," he sighed in frustration.

"Well, it's because you're not hitting that when you're doing your runs," you explained, gently removing his hands from the setup in front of you. Slowly, you moved his character over to what you believed was the key element for him to pass this level. "See, it's breakable with that TNT sign on it."

You restarted the level and began to execute your run. As you played, Soobin's eyes moved back and forth between his main screen and your side profile, a lovestruck smile spreading across his face, just as his chat had claimed always happened whenever you were in his peripheral vision.

His smile widened as you cheered, successfully passing the level he had spent the majority of his time on. "Wait, babe, you're crazy good," he exclaimed, his jaw-dropping in amazement at the winning transition.

"I'm just better than you, Soobie boobie" you teased, twisting slightly to face him and sticking out your tongue.

He shook his head, laughing, and wrapped his arms tighter around your waist, giving you a quick peck on your cheek.

His joyful expression quickly shifted to one of furrowed eyebrows as he read his chat.

"Chat, she IS NOT replacing me," he groaned, "And stop asking if she's single. I'll literally make out with her right here, right now."

an | there is no specific game I'm referencing, I couldn't really think of one but if anyone has an idea, I can make it for another one!

#kpop #iicehoon #iicehoon writes #kpop drabbles #kpop imagines #tomorrow x together #txt #txt post #soobin scenarios #soobie boobie #choi soobin x reader #choi soobin fluff #soobin imagines #txt drabbles #txt imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic

[ms-demeanor]

One thing that I keep seeing whenever I make posts that are critical of macs is folks in the notes going "they make great computers for the money if you just buy used/refurbs - everyone knows not to buy new" and A) no they don't know that, most people go looking for a new computer unless they have already exhausted the new options in their budget and B) no they don't make great computers for the money, and being used doesn't do anything to make them easier to work on or repair or upgrade.

Here's a breakdown of the anti-consumer, anti-repair features recently introduced in macbooks. If you don't want to watch the video, here's how it's summed up:

In the end the Macbook Pro is a laptop with a soldered-on SSD and RAM, a battery secured with glue, not screws, a keyboard held in with rivets, a display and lid angle sensor no third party can replace without apple. But it has modular ports so I guess that’s something. But I don’t think it’s worthy of IFixIt’s four out of ten reparability score because if it breaks you have to face apple’s repair cost; with no repair competition they can charge whatever they like. You either front the cost, or toss the laptop, leaving me wondering “who really owns this computer?”

Apple doesn't make great computers for the money because they are doing everything possible to make sure that you don't actually own your computer, you just lease the hardware from apple and they determine how long it is allowed to function.

The lid angle sensor discussed in this video replaces a much simpler sensor that has been used in laptops for twenty years AND calibrating the sensor after a repair requires access to proprietary apple software that isn't accessible to either users or third party repair shops. There's no reason for this software not to be included as a diagnostic tool on your computer except that Apple doesn't want users working on apple computers. If your screen breaks, or if the fragile cable that is part of the sensor wears down, your only option to fix this computer is to pay apple.

How long does apple plan to support this hardware? What if you pay $3k for a computer today and it breaks in 7 years - will they still calibrate the replacement screen for you or will they tell you it's time for new hardware EVEN THOUGH YOU COULD HAVE ATTAINED FUNCTIONAL HARDWARE THAT WILL WORK IF APPLE'S SOFTWARE TELLS IT TO?

Look at this article talking about "how long" apple supports various types of hardware. It coos over the fact that a 2013 MacBook Air could be getting updates to this day. That's the longest example in this article, and that's *hardware* support, not the life cycle of the operating system. That is dogshit. That is straight-up dogshit.

Apple computers are DRM locked in a way that windows machines only wish they could pull off, and the apple-only chips are a part of that. They want an entirely walled garden so they can entirely control your interactions with the computer that they own and you're just renting.

Even if they made the best hardware in the world that would last a thousand years and gave you flowers on your birthday it wouldn't matter because modern apple computers don't ever actually belong to apple customers, at the end of the day they belong to apple, and that's on purpose.

This is hardware as a service. This is John Deere. This is subscription access to the things you buy, and if it isn't exactly that right at this moment, that is where things have been heading ever since they realized it was possible to exert a control that granular over their users.

With all sympathy to people who are forced to use them, Fuck Apple I Hope That They Fall Into The Ocean And Are Hidden Away From The Honest Light Of The Sun For Their Crimes.

[adangerouscrab]

I want you to know that I've been pronouncing your tags as babater when you type vvater

lmaoo thank you i'm glad someone else reads it vveird every time i read something i typed i just hear like vuhvater, its dumb but better than the user in a subreddit i frequent vvith the same problem vvho uses uu instead of vv because that just makes me think of uvvu every time

#i cant even uvvu vvhat kind of existence is this #i cant even fix the stupid key vvithout replacing the entire keyboard bc apple cant make any repair easy #crab talk

[mawofthemagnetar]

No Mister Slab, I Expect You(r Keyboard) To Die!

Inspired by THIS tumblr post!

Etho woke up staring at his lap.

He blinked a few times, and lifted his head. Something was bound tight around his wrists, and the chair he’d been tied to was kind of painful.

He blinked, uncomprehending, as he stared into the massive eyes and smug smile of Keralis.

Etho opened his mouth.

And closed it.

Keralis was sitting in a high-backed spiky-looking chair, like something out of a movie. And of course, he was wearing a white suit with a blue flower for a corsage. For some reason, Jellie was sprawled contentedly across his lap. As if that wasn’t enough, behind him, a wall of lava was flowing down. Etho looked around the rest of the (modern and tasteful, natch) room, to see it dominated by suits of armour and other lovely decorations.  

Keralis’ massive desk sat between them, with a shiny new gaming PC and all the trimmings off to the side. Keralis gently stroked Jellie, and locked eyes with Etho.

“Ah, Etho! You’re awake!” he said brightly, and his left eye twitched.

“…Keralis? You okay, buddy? Something wrong?”

Etho would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly nervous.

“Hm? No, no, no. I’m fine. I’m very, very fine.” Keralis leaned in, grinning nastily.

“So…uh…why am I tied to a chair?” Etho asked, tilting his head, “’Cause, like, I was kind of sending some e-mails to Pause when Doc dropped that bag over my head, and-“

Keralis’ eye twitched.

“I suppose we don’t waste time, then. Etho!” Keralis said grandly, steepling his fingers together on the desk, “I am replacing your entire setup.”

Etho froze.

“NO-!“

“OH, YES!” Keralis cackled, “YES, ETHO, YES! A NEW KEYBOARD! A NEW MOUSE! NEW MONITORS! A NEW MIC STAND!”

“…Actually, can I keep my old monitor, I only had, like, the one-“

Keralis’ eye twitched.

“You get two monitors now,” he said grandly, scratching Jellie behind the ears. She hissed and hopped off Keralis’ lap, wandering away.

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” Etho shouted, “I- man, I have like, emotional attachment to-“

Keralis twitched again.

He pressed a button on his desk.

A massive flying machine flew up at the top of the lava wall, Etho momentarily spellbound by the build that had Doc’s thumbprints all over it. And speaking of Doc, the man himself was standing at the top of the lava wall on a catwalk, wearing a black suit and an evil smile.

The flames danced in his eye as he placed down a shulkerbox containing…something.

“What…what are you going to do?” Etho asked nervously, “What do you want from me?”

“You? Nothing!” Keralis laughed, “your setup, though, sweetface…”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM MY SETUP!”

“DOC!” Keralis called, snapping his fingers, “BURN IT!”

And Doc threw the shulker into the lava.

Etho gasped as it broke, as his broken keyboard, his sticky mouse, and his monitor with a flickery line going through the middle of it all fell into the flames. His tissue box, though-

Etho shed a tear as the empty Kleenex box hit the lava and instantly burst into flames.

“You’re a monster!” he sniffled.

Both Keralis and Doc burst out laughing. Grand, evil cackles, that eventually petered out.

“Why? Why would you do this to me!?” Etho protested.

Keralis scowled, clicked a few things on his own terminal, and spun the monitor around to see.

“THIS IS WHY.” He shouted.

Etho’s eyes fell on an email he’d sent out to all of the Hermits the previous week.

“I fail to see how that’s a problem. Or worthy of being on your Bond Villain arc.” Etho huffed.

“ETHO. THERE ARE NO SPACES BETWEEN ANY OF THE WORDS!” Keralis shouted.  

#magnetar writes #Keralis fic #Etho Fic

[mamawasatesttube]

“You haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.” with timkon maybe :) the sillies

The Batcave is draftier than Tim remembers it being.

He’s gotten used to his setup in his apartment building’s basement, and it’s a couple of degrees warmer over there. Probably because of the giant computer sans an entire cave to heat up.

Oh, well. That’s what capes are for. Particularly the ones made of blankets. And also thick, fuzzy socks. And fluffy pajamas stolen from Dick’s drawer (it’s not like he’s touched it in ages, since he’s off in New York, but Tim still hopes he’ll notice the theft and be indignant about it eventually).

Cold water drips from his hair onto the back of his neck, and he shivers. Scowls at the keyboard in front of him. He took such a nice, hot shower immediately after Kon got him back—getting tossed into the harbor in midwinter sucks—but the draftiness down here doesn’t care.

“Thanks for the tea, Alfred,” Kon says, somewhere behind him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get the dishes? I really don’t mind—“

“Certainly not, young Mister Kent.” Alfred sounds almost fond. Kon’s got Ma Kent’s country manners drilled into his head; Tim has to admit it’s pretty cute. “You are a guest in this house. It would hardly be proper. Besides which, you’ve already helped me plenty by ensuring I don’t need to dig any bullets out of Master Timothy tonight.”

Tim resents that. He wasn’t in any danger of getting shot—okay, no more than usual, anyways. He was a lot more in danger from the guys who managed to chain a cinder block to his ankle and then threw him off a boat. However, since he’s a paragon of maturity and not an insufferable pedant, he elects to finish typing up his stupid mission summary while it’s still fresh in his mind, instead of arguing.

And then, the strangest thing happens:

Alfred squawks.

There’s a clatter of porcelain and a whoosh of air, and Tim whips around just in time to see Kon, holding Alfred’s tea tray in one hand, catch Krypto by the cape with the other.

“Dude!” Kon scolds. Krypto’s tail wags a mile a minute. “You can’t just do that outside the house! What is wrong with you? Oh, man, Mr. Alfred, I’m so sorry, he’s never done that to anyone but Pa before—”

…What did Krypto do?

Alfred scrubs the back of his neck with a daintily-folded pocket handkerchief, his face is filled with disgust. He examines the handkerchief, mustache quivering with indignance, and then sighs. “I do hope this is just regular slobber and not some sort of super-related variant."

Krypto barks once, excited, and prances in a circle around Kon’s hips, wrapping his cape around Kon until Kon sighs and lets go.

Tim—

Tim wheezes.

Krypto just silently snuck up and licked the back of Alfred’s neck?! And—and he used to do that to Pa Kent? Does he just have a thing for licking old guys on the neck or something? Or is he replacing one old guy with another, now that Pa’s dead? And he’s so pleased with himself now, sitting back on his haunches in midair like he expects a treat!

Tim laughs so hard his stomach hurts. Every time he thinks he’s gotten ahold of himself again, his mind just flashes back to the look of utter revulsion on Alfred’s face, and he loses it all over again.

By the time he catches his breath, Alfred has vanished, tray and all. He’s probably upstairs muttering derogatory things about dogs. Kon and Krypto, however, are still here; Krypto’s inspecting the crumbs on the floor where Alfred nearly dropped the tea tray, and Kon…

Kon is staring, the tenderest smile Tim has ever seen on his lips.

Oh. Um. Tim’s cheeks heat. “…What?” he huffs, folding his arms over his chest. “That was funny, okay!”

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m not disputing that,” Kon says absently. He’s still looking at Tim with that soft, adoring smile. “You just, uh… you haven’t laughed in a long time, and I guess I was staring ‘cause I forgot how that looked like.”

What.

Tim opens his mouth. Closes it again. Looks away, face burning. “Oh, come on. I’m sure I’ve laughed recently. Pretty sure I laughed after you fished me out of the harbor.”

“Yeah, but that was all, like, sarcastic and ‘ooh, look, I’m making jokes because I nearly just drowned in the smelliest harbor on the planet’, not ‘cuz anything was actually funny.”

Kon closes the distance between them and rests a hand fondly atop Tim’s head. His smile fades, slightly, and his hand slides down to cup Tim’s chin, tipping his face up. Blushing or not, Tim meets his gaze and holds it steadily, raising an eyebrow.

Kon just tilts his head ever so slightly, the same way Krypto does. He looks a little contemplative. That’s new; he never used to be nearly this introspective before. Dying and getting resurrected probably does something to a guy’s psyche, Tim supposes, but he wouldn’t know.

And then Kon asks, “Rob… Have you actuallylaughed at anything since I died?”

He may as well have just sucker-punched Tim in the gut. All the breath whooshes right out of Tim’s lungs. “I… I’m sure I have. I must have,” he says, and frowns. He can’t really think of anything that made him feel particularly light in the past year and then some, but… just because he can’t remember doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Statistically, he had to have laughed properly at something, right?

Kon lets go of his chin to ruffle his hair. “Man,” he says, and sighs, dropping onto an invisible chair at Tim’s side. He’s close enough that their thighs press together; Kon’s a solid line of warmth against Tim’s body. He tosses his feet up onto an invisible footrest and folds his arms behind his head, leaning back. “You nearly done with whatever you needed to do here?”

“Nearly,” Tim says, glancing at the screen. “I think that’s enough details for anyone trying to pick up the smuggling case to use, if they wanna do something before I get to it, I guess.” Though he doubts anyone will. They’ve got their own cases to work on. He’ll get the weapons smugglers next time; they got lucky this time, that’s all.

“Cool.” Kon glances over to Krypto. Tim follows his gaze; Krypto’s inspecting the dinosaur now, floating up near one of its eyes. “Krypto, be careful with that!”

Krypto wags his tail in acknowledgment.

“I hope he doesn’t try to eat it,” Kon sighs. “He got ahold of a T-Rex bone this one time we went back in time—long story, it was that thing with Lori’s mom I called you about a few weeks back. But I just hope Krypto didn’t, like, acquire a taste for ‘em.”

Tim snorts. He hits save, then lets his head fall against Kon’s shoulder. “Would be kinda funny if he did, though.”

Kon snorts, too, draping his arm around Tim’s shoulders. Even through his sweatshirt and the thin blanket he’s using as a cape, Kon’s warmth radiates gently against his skin. The weight of his arm is… nice.

“Would be kinda funny,” Kon agrees, sighing fondly. “Anyways, you done with that thing?”

“Yeah.” Tim hums. “If you wanna go back to my place, we could do that, or if you’re busy, that’s chill, so…”

“Oh, actually, I’m kidnapping you,” Kon says breezily, and just like that, the familiar net of his TTK wraps around Tim’s body and scoops him up. “I’ve decided you need to laugh at something dumb some more, so we’re gonna go back to the farm and watch this one really weird anime about the composers that Bart showed me last week. Krypto! Come!”

What. “I didn’t even pack anything. Do I get a say in this?” Tim asks. Kon’s already heading for the exit with him in his arms, so he gets the feeling that he’s already got his answer, but still.

“No.” Kon grins. “Didn’t you hear me? I said this is a kidnapping. You’re already in PJs, and you can just borrow something to wear tomorrow. We got spare toiletries at the house. So it’s chill.”

Tim rolls his eyes. But, as they emerge outside under the starry night sky, he finds that he doesn’t really mind.

#timkon #lemonlimestar #woops this kinda got long. into that awkward length i hate (between 800-1.5k) skjdf #BUT. fun fact my dog did that to my dad once #obviously not by flying but like hes a big dog he just walked up behind where my dad was sitting #and i immediately was like. who is the funniest person for krypto to do that to and i think its alfred #tim #kon #alfred #krypto

[shubblelive]

— FRIENDLY COMPETITION

summary : you and tommy have been dating for months, and there's a million things you love about him. however, you're usually not doing that in front of your entire audience. but after a surprising mcc debut, what's one more good thing?

genre : fluff

warnings: mentions of reader breaking a bone as a kid

pairing : cc!tommyinnit x fem!cc!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is tommy's girlfriend

featuring : cc!tommyinnit, cc!philza (mentioned), cc!smajor (mentioned), cc!shubble (mentioned), cc!orionsound (mentioned)

request : I was wondering if you could do a fic where y/n (with fem pronouns) is a streamer and wins her fist mcc and when she wins Tommy comes into her room and is so excited that she won that forgets they hadnt told the internet they were dating and kisses her <3

word count : 1.1k

note : i love writing for tommy so much but unfortunately i don't get a lot of ideas, so whenever i get reqs for him i get super excited. for context, i wrote this around mcc 26 because it's my favourite (i KNOW it's almost a year old at this point, like i said it's my favourite). reader replaces fruitberries on the violet vampires team, he won that mcc with phil, oli and shelby, so you can probably tell why it's my favourite lmao but also i feel like tommy would call you girlfriend in place of a petname, i think it's cute. i hope you enjoy angel <333

When you were six, you broke your wrist. You and a group of your classmates had been out at lunch in the playground, engaged in an intense monkey bars contest when you fell. You didn’t remember much, the ambulance ride to A&E, maybe. Being comforted in your hospital bed as you awaited X-ray results with cuddles and cookies, definitely. Not a lot of pain, not a lot of suffering. You never got back on the monkey bars after that though. Competing with the other kids just felt like a bad idea after that. You learned to run your own race, and you’d been living like that for over a decade.

Your left hand twinged, aching slightly. Maybe it was that the bones never realigned on your wrist, but it was most likely due to the intense keyboard-pressing you’d been doing for the last five hours. You weren’t big on MCC, you were a builder rather than a combative player, and that suited you just fine. You tuned in once a month, sure, but that was mainly to support. You and Tommy had been dating for eight whole MCCs now, and he’d been the one to encourage you to apply. 

Your shooting skills were… fine. You knew how to play the game, of course, you’d been playing it for over half your life. You just didn’t do much of it recently, hence the two hour practice you’d taken before the start of the event. The first game had been Parkour Warrior, which happened to be your best. The early confidence boost (combined with the encouraging messages you and Tommy had been exchanging on Discord between each event, unbeknownst to your chats) had helped you - you’d come in second overall. But by the fifth game your team wasn’t even in the top 5. You were nervous, worried about letting your team down but, as Phil rightfully pointed out you had “did the best out of all of us, dude.” You’d been really lucky with your team. Everyone on it was someone you knew at least vaguely. You’d spoken to Phil a bunch since starting your relationship with Tommy, and he’d been a big help. Shelby and Oli, your other two teammates were both complete sweethearts and you’d loosened up massively since the beginning of the event. 

Things picked up after SkyBattle, and no one in your chat even noticed when you and Tommy took breaks at the same time (two waterbottle refills and a reassuring kiss that had you on your A-Game for the last hour and a half of the event). 

And then came DodgeBolt. 

Your shooting skills were fine. Truly, but your entire team getting killed in less than five minutes leaving you and Scott in the arena alone. You were silent, focusing too hard on not dying to even think about addressing your chat. Phil was murmuring encouragement into the VC that you were actively tuning out in an attempt to concentrate. Tommy was sitting at his desk three rooms away, quiet as a mouse. He hadn’t moved in so long that his chat had started spamming lag. He had been trying not to be too obvious about it, but it was you versus the manager of the event engaged in a 1v1 for your first time in the contest. Your hand was cramping and you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard it was painful, but you had an arrow and a shot. Scott had an arrow as well, and you knew that if you left it any longer he’d get you, so you let your instincts take over and let it go. 

VIOLET VAMPIRES TAKE THE CROWN!

Shelby was screaming in the VC before you could comprehend what had just happened, and before you could even move arms were around you. Your office door had swung open as your golden retriever of a boyfriend all but lifted you out of your chair, pressing a proud kiss to your lips. 

“Oh my god,” you murmured, face hidden in the blue fabric of his shirt. “I won?”

“You won!” Tommy was yelling, grin taking over his face.

You let out a squeal of delight as you kissed the corner of his mouth in return, your temple being peppered with supportive kisses. “I won! Chat, oh my god-” You turned back towards your stream and were suddenly struck with the fact that you were, in fact, broadcasting this live. “Chat. Oh my god.”

Tommy was suddenly very still. You did a double take between your monitor, chat zipping past so fast it was making your head spin, and your boyfriend. You had about three seconds to make a move before it was awkward and you already knew that the cat was out of the bag. You’d be trending on twitter within an hour if you weren’t already. 

“Chat, I won!” You turned back to Tommy, wrapping your arms around his neck. Tommy was stiff, but you pressed a kiss to his jawline, right below his ear, out of frame of your camera. “We’re okay, boyfriend,” your voice was soft as you held him, his hands coming up on your back, squeezing you tightly. 

That snapped him out of it, and suddenly the two of you were back to screaming. “I’m so proud of you,” you were swaying on the spot, you gazing past his arm to your monitor, evidence of your win right there on your screen.

“I love you,” he kissed your hairline. “Girlfriend.”

He had to get back to his chat eventually and you needed to get back in the VC with the rest of your team members, exchanging congratulations. You hung around on the server for another twenty minutes before excusing yourself and finishing up the stream. You and Tommy had both silently agreed to not address what had happened and you reconvened in the hallway half an hour after the end of the event. Sitting on the sofa, you pulled out your phone and were immediately introduced to the downside of having a famous boyfriend. His full weight was put on your, your phone slipping out of your grasp and between the couch cushions. He mumbled into your neck. “No twitter. Don’t care.”

Your hands delved into his curls as he closed his eyes. “But-”

He lifted his head off your chest to glare at you and you missed the weight. “Fine. But you’re ordering me dinner after my spectacular win.”

He laughed, rumble of his chest spreading warmly throughout your entire body. “You don’t even need your phone, see. You’ve got me, and don’t worry, yes I called the papers to tell them how well you did. Being a girlfriend gets you perks.”

“Being a boyfriend gets you perks, too.” You point out.

Tommy lifted his head again, only slightly, eyebrows raised. You kissed him one more time and he nodded, content. “I think maybe I win, actually.”

#tommay tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit headcanons #tommyinnit x reader fluff #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit fanfic #tommyinnit fluff

[itsbopp]

hey I would like to request probably fluff/comfort Gwen Stacy wherein the reader and her are close friends and that somehow reader found out gwen is spider woman and Gwen like freaks out abt it the rest can be up to you, you can remove parts of my request!

You're WHO? - Across The Spiderverse | One Shot

A/N: For sure! Happy reading!

SUMMARY: You were originally planning to have a calm night in. You didn’t expect to deal with a home invader, and you definitely didn’t expect for the culprit to be the one and only Spider-Woman.

WARNINGS: All characters are 18+. Fluff/Comfort, Swearing.

WORD COUNT: 2500+

It wasn’t often where you had the ability to stay home and relax. University was a pain, both mentally and emotionally, and quite honestly, even physically. There had been countless times where you were forced to stay up until five in the morning, just for the sake of getting yourself confidently ready for an upcoming test. Granted, your professors didn’t blatantly say that abstaining from sleep was mandatory in order to do well in your studies, but there were more times where it was implied that one needed to simply revolve their life around school if they wanted a chance at graduating with flying colors. 

But luckily, it was a Friday, and all of the at home work you typically were obligated to do wasn’t assigned for the weekend. You assumed that the teachers who taught the classes you attended understood that all of their students were slowly losing their minds, and so they decided – together – to let you rest, even if only for a few days. Still though, you planned on taking full advantage of the window of relaxation you received. Responsibilities could fall off the face of the earth for all you cared. Your main focus – now – was huddling up on the couch with a bowl of your favorite snack and looking as though you belonged there. 

And you did. For a good while. 

Until the sound of something crashing in the other room snapped you out of your comforting stupor. It sounded as though an entire shelving unit tipped over and spilled the contents of what it displayed onto the floor. Not only that, but it sounded like it was coming from the room that you and your roommate shared. Usually, you would have shrugged it off and assumed that it was just Gwen, doing whatever it was that she typically did alone, but the only issue was the fact that she wasn’t even home. You and her came into your shared apartment after school earlier in the day, but she didn’t stay for long. Something about her dad and needing to help him with whatever it was a police officer needed help with. 

You didn’t pay her any mind. You only waved her off and told her to be safe, before you resumed your mission in trying to veg out for the rest of the day. You assumed she would have been back by the evening, but then the sun faded away from the earth, and when the moon replaced it, you sent her text that questioned her whereabouts. And when she didn’t answer you, you scoffed and tossed your phone onto the coffee table in front of the couch you sat on, too lazy to worry. Only now did the thought of your phone come back to your mind, and so as you set down your bowl of half-eaten food, you tapped the screen of your device that sat right next to your dish. 

It lit up, and you were greeted with an array of text messages from Gwen. All of which were franticly sent and poorly spelled, like she had been running when she tapped her thumbs against the digital keyboard. It was amusing, and an often occurrence from the woman. Though, you still felt suspicions rise the longer you scrolled down to read over the other stuff she sent you. Random emojis that she had never used before had somehow been sent to you. And then when you eventually got to the bottom of the thread she had randomly created on your phone, your eyes slightly widened. 

There was a close up of a masked face you had the joy of meeting a few times. It looked like a selfie, but it also looked as though the person who took it was a mom who had no idea how to use the camera on their phone. It was blurry, the quality was pretty terrible, but you could still make out the covered face of Spider-Woman. The angular, sharp white eyes that stared down at the screen, voidless of any emotion because they weren’t even real irises. You couldn’t help but stand up to your feet and bring your phone with you, taking a closer look at it as your blanket fell from your body. 

Another crashing sound and a familiar expletive of ‘shit!’ came from the room that wasn’t too far from where you were. It wasn’t difficult to tell who had – poorly – snuck inside the house at… one in the morning. You let out a sigh and shoved your phone into the pocket of your pajamas, before you stepped away from the couch and walked towards wherever the sound had originally come from. You could only assume that Gwen was the culprit of all the noise that was being made, however the closer you got to the door that the sound came from, you felt a feeling of anxiety fill your stomach when the thought of some stranger actually being the one who was creating such a disturbance filled your mind. 

Even though you swore you heard Gwen’s voice just a few minutes ago, you were starting to second guess your own hearing. Still, your hesitation didn’t stop you from raising a hand up and knocking on the door. The sound was loud as your knuckles rapped against the wood, and just from the simple action, it caused another thump to reverberate from within the room. Yet another curse came from the culprit, and when you heard that familiar voice of a certain blonde again, you suddenly grew impatient, and opened up the door, not giving your friend the time to get herself collected. 

And honestly, you didn’t regret your decision when you pushed the door open to reveal Gwen, who just barely managed to kick a bundle of white, black, and pink fabric under her bed. Your eyebrows immediately furrowed in skepticism, while your friend put her arms behind her back and straightened up casually at the sight of you. Her blonde hair was messy, pieces of it sticking up, as though she had rubbed a balloon on her head, and the oversized band t-shirt she had put on was actually backwards, which allowed you to see the back graphic. Your lips parted slightly in confusion as your eyes lowered down to take in the rest of her form, and you let out a breathless chuckle of amusement when you saw her mismatched socks and the inside out cotton shorts she had shuffled into.

“Um…” You didn’t even know what to say, but the sound of your voice caused Gwen to stand up straighter and send you a very suspiciously innocent grin. It showed off the gap between her white teeth, and although you wanted to cut to the chase and interrogate her on where she had gone, you couldn’t help the flutter of endearment that filled your chest and quickly took the form of a smile on your lips. Although, as much as you wanted to dwell on the natural cuteness your best friend exuded, you focused on the main reason as to why you entered her room. “So… where have you been?” you asked her, before you crossed your arms over your chest and glanced down at your feet awkwardly. “Your texts today were a little… interesting.” 

“Oh, really?” Gwen let out a laugh at your statement, which caused you to lift your head and meet her blue eyes. She tapped her socked foot impatiently as she shrugged her shoulders to try and prove that she had no recollection of the weird texts she sent you throughout the day. “That’s weird. I uh… I must’ve, like… butt texted you or something.” 

“Oh yeah?” you questioned, though it was entirely rhetorical, considering your eyebrows raised up to show that you didn’t believe her lie at all whatsoever. “Did, uh… Spider-Woman take your phone or something and butt text me, too?” At your words, her casual demeanor crumbled, and you almost smirked to yourself when you saw the look of panic that flashed over her features, before it vanished, and a look of faux perplexion painted her expression instead. 

“I… what…?” Gwen gestured her hands up to try and play off her ignorance, but you only reached into your pocket to pull out your phone once more. As you turned it on and unlocked it, you could sense the way she quietly walked over to you to look down at the evidence you were about to show her. Of course, you didn’t need to say a single thing to try and prove your suspicions. Simply going to her contact and looking at the messages that were shared between the two of you, she immediately spotted that blurry picture of her in her suit. It was a terrible selfie, but it still didn’t make it too difficult to recognize who the culprit of the photo was. “Okay… um…” 

You cut her off before she could say some other boldface lie. Shutting off your phone, you dropped it back into your pocket, before you looked up at the blonde with a furrowed expression. “So, is there anything you want to tell me, Gwen?” You already had your suspicions that the woman was doing something on the down low – something that you couldn’t know about. But the last thing you thought was that she was the one and only Spider-Woman. Sure, it was a theory that circled around your mind every once in a while, but you always thought that the girl was way too clumsy to be New York's friendly neighborhood superhero. 

Maybe it was all a front. Maybe she wasn’t clumsy at all. 

“Okay, look–” Gwen stepped back from you and raised her hands up in surrender, which caused your own body to turn and face her own. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while that I’m – you know – but I never did because I knew that would have put you in danger, and I don’t want anything to happen to you, and so I just never did that because the number one thing in those secret superhero movies that people watch is to never ever tell the people you care about that you’re the superhero.” She was frantically rambling, but you still managed to catch everything that she told you. You slowly nodded your head in understanding, and just as she was about to open her mouth again, you raised your hand up, which caused her to pause. 

“I get it, Gwen,” you muttered, “don’t worry.” 

“You can’t tell anyone about this, Y/n,” Gwen quickly replied, as she stepped closer to you and clasped her hands down onto your shoulders. “If anyone else finds out that I’m… you know – her… then I’m screwed.” Her tone was pleading, and you could tell that she was clearly worried about your knowledge of who she was. You attempted to assure her that you weren’t going to out her, but she had spoken before you could say anything… again. “And – please delete that picture. People can’t know that you’re – that I’m… just delete the picture,” she rambled, which earned a slow nod from you, as you reached into the pocket of your PJ’s again, fishing for your phone. “You’re the only person that knows. I’d like to keep it that way, so please, please don’t say anything–” 

“Gwen, hey,” you called her name, which caused the blonde to immediately close her mouth and meet your eyes. “I’m not going to say anything to anyone, okay?” you reassured her, before you lifted up the screen of your phone and deleted the blurry selfie of her as Spider-Woman right in front of her. “Your secret is safe with me, alright? My lips are sealed.” 

“Okay.” Gwen breathed out a sigh of relief as she nodded her head, her hands falling away from your shoulders. “Thank you,” she said, which earned a simple shrug from you, before you put your phone back into your pocket, for the umpteenth time. “You’re not mad at me, right?” she suddenly asked, causing you to roll your eyes lightheartedly and let out a small laugh. 

“No, of course not, Gwen,” you replied. “I understand why you didn’t say anything. I just kinda wish you told me a little sooner.” 

Gwen brought a hand up to rub at the back of her neck and glanced down at the floor. “Yeah… I probably should have, but…” She shrugged her shoulders as she dropped her arm back to her side. “I didn’t want to risk it,” she admitted, her eyes lifting to meet yours again. “Being the face behind Spider-Woman’s mask is kind of something that I don’t want anyone to know, but…” 

“Now I know,” you finished sympathetically, which earned a small nod from your friend. You breathed in at that, understanding the worry that probably instilled her. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, knowing that you’re Spider-Woman makes me feel a little safer.” 

“Only a little?” Gwen questioned, which earned a scoff from you, as you turned around and started making your way out of her room. 

“Don’t push it, Spider-Woman.” 

You smiled to yourself when you heard Gwen let out a chuckle from behind you. 

BONUS: 

The light from the television was the only thing that illuminated the living room, as Gwen leaned into your side with your favorite blanket draped over her. She had stolen most of it, but the warmth of her body against your side was a valid replacement. You and her were both focused on the show the two of you religiously binged together, and although you were very intrigued by the plot of it, there was still a question that lingered in the back of your mind. Although your best friend had asked you not to see her any differently due to her being Spider-Woman, you couldn’t help the confusion that formed when you thought about how she became the superhero everybody knew and loved. 

As Gwen fidgeted with your hand that hung over her shoulders, you leaned your head back against the couch and spoke up, your voice distant, since the show before the two of you still slightly hypnotized you. “Hey Gwen.” Your friend hummed in response to your call of her name, and so you continued, mindlessly. “I’ve been wondering,” you started, before you swallowed and licked your lips thoughtlessly. “How did you become Spider-Woman?” Your question earned a loud sigh from her, which caused you to furrow your eyebrows and look down at her, which didn’t really do any justice, since you could only see part of her face as she continued to stare at the TV. “What? Is that a bad question to ask?” 

“No, just…” You felt her shrug against you and shuffle slightly, which caused you to raise your arm up and let her lay her upper body across your legs. “Out of all the questions you could have asked me, it’s that one?” You looked down at her and met her eyes. You couldn’t help but trace the finer details of her face for a moment, before she folded her hands together and rested them against the middle of her chest. “It’s a long story,” she told you softly. Her voice grabbed your attention again, and you showed that you were listening when you hummed. “Do you… want to hear it still?” 

You sent her a small smile and nodded. “Of course I do.” 

Gwen nodded her own head and pressed her lips together, before her fingers started drumming against the back of her own hands. “Okay, well…” She trailed off and let out a quiet breath. “It all started when I was bitten by a radioactive spider…”

(Insert Spider-Man theme music here)

#spider gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #itsv x reader #atsv x reader

[fafnir19]

Clothes make the man

Felix was typing furiously at his desk in the bustling newsroom, his eyes fixed on the screen and fingers dancing over the keyboard. As a volunteer at a major newspaper, he harbored ambitions of becoming a journalist in the economics department. Despite his intense dedication, securing a position there seemed increasingly unlikely.

The secretaries were unkind, refusing to provide any help as he tackled the workload alone. "Hey, Felix, can I have a word with you?" a voice called out from behind him. It was Lucy, the editor of the fashion department. "Sure, Lucy. What's up?" Felix turned around in his swivel chair to face her. "Our journalist for the fashion beat is sick today, and we need someone to cover an interview with Victor Vlein, the famous fashion designer. Can you do it?" Lucy asked, sounding hopeful.

Felix sighed, feeling utterly disinterested in the fashion world. "I've never covered fashion before, but I'll give it a shot." "Great! The interview is in an hour at Vlein's studio. Good luck!" Lucy flashed him a smile before hurrying off to attend to other business. Arriving at Vlein's studio, Felix composed himself and prepared for the interview.

As he entered, he was greeted by Victor Vlein, a tall, imposing figure with a stern expression. "Mr. Vlein, I'm Felix from the newspaper," he introduced himself, extending his hand. "Ah, the replacement journalist. Let's get this over with," Vlein replied curtly. Felix wasted no time and dove straight into the interview. "Mr. Vlein, your fashion seems to perpetuate outdated male stereotypes. What do you have to say about that?" Victor Vlein raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by Felix's directness.

"Appearance and reality often merge, young man. Maybe you should try on my designs to understand." Reluctantly, Felix agreed to try on Vlein's attire despite finding it utterly ridiculous.

Felix stood in Vlein's studio, trying on one of the designer's bold ensembles. As he struggled to pull the leather jacket over his shoulders, Vlein stepped forward, his dark eyes keenly assessing Felix's frame. "It's not working for me, Mr. Vlein. I don't see how this can change my perception," Felix remarked, frowning as he looked at himself in the mirror. With precise movements, Vlein deftly adjusted the jacket's collar, smoothing down the fabric over Felix's chest before moving to the trousers. His long fingers meticulously tucked and rearranged the pants, emphasizing the need for a wider stance, while his intense gaze seemed to be sizing up Felix's every reaction. "Please, Mr. Vlein, I don't think this is necessary," Felix protested weakly. Ignoring Felix, Vlein spread Felix’s legs, insisting that men should stand with a wide stance. "You see, the key to commanding respect is in how you carry yourself," Vlein explained, his deep voice echoing in the studio. "Stand with pride and confidence, as if you own the room." Continuing his transformative touch, Vlein lifted Felix's chin with a firm yet gentle grip, directing his gaze towards the mirror. "Hold your head high. Look at yourself as if you are the embodiment of power and authority," Vlein instructed. Then, with a surprising amount of intimacy, Vlein reached out to adjust Felix's hair, running his fingers through the strands and rearranging them with a sense of purpose. Suddenly Vlein grabbed his crotch and a visible bulge appeared in Felix's pants. Vlein remarked with a grin, “And always wear tight-fitting pants to show everyone that you’re the stud!”

The designer's touch was both unsettling and oddly soothing as he fashioned Felix's appearance to match his vision. Felix felt an undeniable discomfort as Vlein's hands roamed freely, but the sense of compulsion held him back from protesting. Throughout the entire adjustment, Felix remained speechless, his heart racing with a mixture of astonishment and unease. Finally, Vlein took a step back, his intense scrutiny softened by a look of satisfaction. "There you go, Felix. You look the part now. Embrace your masculinity. Own it," Vlein declared, taking a moment to appreciate the transformation reflected in the mirror.

Staring at himself in the mirror, Felix could hardly believe his eyes. He now resembled one of Vlein's runway models, his physique chiseled and free of any excess fat. Felix struggled to reconcile the image before him with his own sense of self. The chiseled features and powerful demeanor felt like an unfamiliar facade, imposed upon him by Vlein's deliberate manipulations.

Confused and shocked, Felix was informed by Vlein that he would remain like this for three weeks before returning to revert to his former self. "I think we're done here. Thank you for your time, Mr. Vlein," Felix said, fighting to maintain composure.

In the following days, Felix noticed a stark change in how people treated him. They acknowledged his authority, eagerly listening to him. Women in the office looked at him with desire, their eyes lingering on his transformed physique, willingly obeying his commands.

Colleagues hesitated to disobey him, instinctively acknowledging his newfound confidence. "Hey, Jeff, can you take care of these reports for me?" as Felix asked a colleague, handing over a stack of papers without hesitation. Delegating tasks became easier for Felix, and he began to adopt an air of arrogance in his interactions. He never hesitated to spread his legs wide and hold his head high, as Vlein had emphasized. People noticed the change in his demeanor, though few dared to question it. He effortlessly gained entry into the economics department, despite exerting much less effort than other applicants.

At the end of the three weeks, Felix hesitated to return to his former self. "What if I could stay like this for a bit longer?" he wondered.

Felix returned to Victor Vlein as agreed and stood in his studio, feeling a curious mix of discomfort and bewilderment. Victor Vlein, with a wry smile, fixed his gaze on Felix. "Tell me, Mr. Felix, how does it feel to be seen as an object of desire?" Vlein's voice had a subtle edge, as if he knew something Felix didn't. Felix felt a chill run down his spine as Vlein's question lingered in the air. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mr. Vlein," Felix replied, his tone guarded. Vlein's smile widened, and he took a step closer to Felix. "You're a journalist, aren't you? You must know the power of perception. Your appearance now commands attention, desire even. How does that make you feel?" "It's … unbelievable, to say the least," Felix confessed, averting his eyes from Vlein's piercing gaze. "I never sought such attention or... objectification." "But it's a reality in the world of fashion and influence, Mr. Felix. Appearance shapes perception, and perception shapes power," Vlein stated matter-of-factly. It was as if Vlein held the key to a truth that Felix wasn't ready to confront.

Vlein suggested reversing Felix's appearance as previously agreed, but Felix hesitated. He wanted to explore the power of appearance a little longer. "But Mr. Vlein, I feel different, confident, like I've never felt before," Felix pleaded, trying to convey his inner turmoil. "This change has brought about a newfound charisma and respect. I don't want to revert to my former self yet. Please, let me remain as I am now." Victor Vlein regarded Felix with a discerning look, contemplating his request. "You do have potential, Felix. I can see it," Vlein mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I'll agree under one condition: you work as a model for some of my fashion shows. You'll be the perfect ambassador for my brand." Eagerly agreeing, Felix imagined nothing better than representing Vlein's cool fashion and showcasing his newfound confidence to the world.

Felix's heart hammered in his chest as he stepped onto the runway for the first time, his steps hesitant and uncertain. The bright lights blazed down on him, casting his shadow long behind him as he moved forward, each echoing footstep a testament to his trepidation. It felt like the weight of a thousand eyes bore down on him, scrutinizing his every move. His breaths came quick and shallow, his palms clammy as he fought to still the quiver in his hands. As he reached the center of the runway, the crowd's hushed whispers seemed to echo like distant waves crashing upon the shore, adding to the mounting pressure. But then something shifted within him. As he stood beneath the spotlight, the gazes of the audience melted into a symphony of admiration, their applause an electrifying crescendo that ushered in a wave of newfound confidence.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the uncertainty vanishing like mist before the sun. With each step, his posture straightened, exuding an aura of self-assuredness that captivated the audience. The once nervous Felix had transformed into the epitome of a charismatic bad boy, commanding attention with every stride. Victor Vlein, observing from the sidelines, leaned over to his assistant. "Watch him closely," Vlein whispered, "he's fully succumbed to his new persona, embracing it with such ease. He's become the perfect embodiment of my brand, effortlessly captivating the audience as a sweet bad boy."

Meanwhile, at the newspaper, Felix's enigmatic transformation had not gone unnoticed. His magnetism drew attention, and his charm and newfound sense of self-assuredness propelled him to the top of his career in the economic department, despite having to exert much less effort than other applicants. Felix had indeed left behind the echoes of uncertainty and emerged as a shining star, basking in the dual realms of the fashion world and the prestigious economic landscape, successfully embodying both identities.

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #male model tf #male model

[sunshinebarbie]

reckless

pairing: Seungmin x reader warnings: language, arguing, angry Seungmin, angst, violent chopping of vegetables, mentions of a knife (nothing violent with it besides the vegetable chopping) words: 3,505

a/n: so i know i haven't updated my two long-awaited stories, but i wanted do something for now to keep you all entertained. hopefully it keeps you all occupied until i can get the next parts to my other stories updated. enjoy!

the clock on the bed stand hit another hour. you turned around already knowing that his side of the bed would be empty. you tugged the blanket up further burying yourself into a cocoon of warmth.  

your phone chimed illuminating the ceiling and the sound of the “ping” echoed in the darkness of the room. throwing the blanket off you reached for your phone hoping it was him. instead it was Jeongin. you frowned and opened the text, it took a second to load and you felt your stomach clench.  

“just thought i owed it to you.” his text followed. you scrolled up to the picture again and pressed to enlarge. yes, it was him. your boyfriend of three years Seungmin with his face nuzzled into the neck of his “friend”.  

“where are you!?” you quickly texted Jeongin. the message was delivered and read. after a long minute you texted again. “he said he was going to your place and you were both going to a friends’ is that the friend!?” the message was delivered and read again. still there was no reply.  

“Jeongin!” you texted after a long second, the message was undelivered. you felt your body go numb. the screen of your phone went black leaving you in complete darkness. You stared into the darkness at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. Reaching over to the lamp you clicked it on and swung your feet off the side of the bed.  

You walked over to the main switch and turned it on illuminating the whole room. you couldn’t possibly sleep now. slowly you paced the room, your thumbnail tucked between your teeth as you tried to figure out your next move. you walked over to your phone and pulled up Seungmin’s number. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought of a text to send.  

It could be full of venom, the scorned girlfriend with rants of “you cheater” or “it’s over”. or you could go the oblivious girlfriend who is still patiently waiting for her boyfriend to come home to her with texts of “when are you coming home?”. Instead you put your phone facedown on the bed and walked to the closet.  

Your first initial thought was “start packing, don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry” slowly you began to pull items from the top shelves of closet. Empty boxes mostly, all in high places that only Seungmin could reach. you bit your lower lip and spotted the exact box you were looking for. it was a vintage Godiva chocolate tin. A gift from your grandmother that she filled with love letters and small tokens of love that were given to her by your grandpa or were collected over the many happy years they spent together.  

As you knocked it off the shelf you could hear the contents shuffle inside. You sat on the floor of the closet and lifted the lid. The letters and trinkets were now replaced with those of yours and Seungmin’s. Three years all placed delicately in the box that was once filled with fifty plus years of love. 

Your fingertips grazed the contents as you shifted the items finally spotting the one that felt like it was calling you. A simple lined paper that was ripped out of a notebook. Slowly you pulled apart the folds, the paper was thin from the many times you unfolded and refolded the paper over and over again, three years of unfolding and refolding.  

Your eyes skimmed the words, you could recite this entire letter word by word. It was the very first love letter Seungmin ever wrote to you. He was working hard on a new album with his group and had to stay at the dorms more than he would like. It was the beginning of your relationship, and he couldn’t leave you alone for a minute. His fear that you would grow tiresome of his job and move on had him writing to you every moment of free time he could spare. 

Your eyes skimmed until you found the sentence you were looking for… “I'm pretty sure I found my forever in you… I just confirmed it with I.N, you’re the only girl I want in my life. forever.” a salty tear drop fell on the paper soaking into the ink and distorting the word that hit you most “forever”. you sniffled and closed the paper you couldn’t stomach anymore.  

You quickly folded the paper back up and placed it back into the tin, as you reached for another one you could hear the key scrapping against the metal of the deadlock. Seungmin stumbled in and slurred something, he was drunk. You quickly tossed the boxes back up on the shelf along with the tin and hurried out of the closet. You could hear him stumbling in the kitchen looking for the fridge. You turned off the lights and hurried under the covers. 

As you steadied your breath Seungmin entered the room. He was cursing swears under his breath. He unzipped his pants and yanked them down to a pool around his ankles. He nearly tripped over the thick fabric pile as he stepped out. You could hear him fumble around fighting for freedom from his jeans until he was laying in the bed in nothing but his boxers, and hoodie.  

“babe?” Seungmin slurred a pet name for you which you never heard ever, since the three years you been together. You shift your shoulders giving the false appearance that he is disturbing your slumber. “I missed you so much” he sighed as he wrapped his arms around your body. You could feel his lips nuzzle into your neck. He pressed a sloppy kiss against the nape, giving the feeling of more of a snake bite than a loving kiss, because you knew his lips were on another’s neck merely an hour ago. You could smell the alcohol that radiated off his breath and skin as he snuggled closer to you. 

“babe, you should come with us next time” he yawned. “I missed you too much.” You shifted your shoulders again only for him to pull you closer to his chest. His cheek pressed softly against your ear. “I love you.” he slurred before falling into a deep alcohol induced slumber. 

The next morning you left some water and electrolyte water enhancer by his bedstand. You cooked him a simple breakfast of bacon, of course a lot of eggs, and some toast. You placed down some aspirin on the counter knowing he was going to need it after he ate his breakfast. Seungmin entered the kitchen, his lips wrapped around the rim of the glass of water you left for him. “what did you cook?” he asked almost coldly. “hangover special” you teased. Seungmin looked at the time and nearly choked on his water. “is that time right?!” he pointed to the clock on the stove. “yeah.” you replied. “you couldn’t wake me up earlier? I need to be at the JYPE building in five minutes! We’re supposed to go live to promote our comeback.” he hurried to the bedroom. 

You listened to him stumble around and cursing up a storm. He finally emerged from the room and slammed what was left of his water before grabbing the aspirin. “you aren’t going to eat?” you asked and pointed to his already made plate. “does it look like I have time to eat?” he snapped back and hurried out the door. 

You looked at the plate and felt a rage consume your insides. You grabbed the plate and tossed it into the trash can with enough force that it cracked the entire ceramic disk into three big chunks on impact. “I bet he doesn’t talk to his friend like this.” you scoffed as you started to clean up the kitchen before leaving to your part-time job. 

It was hard enough focusing on work, the picture I.N sent you was seared into your brain. Even when you closed your eyes to take deep breaths you could see it. You could only recall all the times he would hurry out of the apartment whenever his phone chimed, was he going to see her?. What about whenever you asked if you could tag along with him on his nights out and he would say you wouldn’t like it, was it because he wanted to be alone with her? Thinking about it too much made you nauseous, finally it was time to clock out.  

You arrived back at the apartment. Seungmin wasn’t back yet, you walked into the kitchen and began to pull items from the fridge and pantry to get dinner started. At least in the kitchen you could take out your aggression on the ingredients and not on Seungmin or his friend. You were chopping the veggies up when you heard Seungmin come back. He looked exhausted, and mostly in agony probably regretting having so much to drink last night.  

“hey, how was the live?” you asked as you checked the meat in the oven. “i missed it.” he sighed. “and I got my ass chewed out for that.” he added. “well, maybe dinner will make you feel better, I’m making your favorite.” you smiled. “i don’t like oven baked chicken.” he scrunched his nose before leaving to the room after seeing a message appear on his phone. You could feel that same rage boiling up again, but you ignored it, excusing his attitude since he was having a bad day. 

Seungmin returned to the kitchen moments later in a new outfit. He started to search the kitchen cabinets and slamming them, making you irritated by his carelessness. “did you pick up any banana kicks?” he frowned looking in the cabinet. “they didn’t have any at the store, but I did get some turtle chips.” you pointed to the bag. “yeah because those are the exact same thing.” he rolled his eyes before slamming the cabinet again. You bit your tongue, you wanted to blurt out “well I bet your friend has all your favorite snacks stocked up right?” but instead you continued to chop up the veggies for the salad.  

“as usual there is nothing here.” Seungmin gripped as he walked past you while typing on his phone. You put the knife down on the countertop and exhaled a deep breath. You went to the sink and started to rinse the stalk of broccoli. As you looked up at your reflection on the window you couldn’t help but transport back to when you and Seungmin first moved into the apartment. Well, you were living there a month before him but he insisted moving in with you because he couldn’t stand being away from you for too long. You remembered how he helped you cook your first ever meal in the house while living together. You could feel him standing behind you, his arms wrapped around your body as he pressed kisses on your exposed skin. You could almost hear the laughter that filled the atmosphere as he poured you both large glasses of wine to enjoy while you both waited for your masterpiece to finish cooking. 

“when’s dinner going to be ready?” Seungmin reentered the kitchen pulling you out of your memory. “in another 20 minutes or so.” you replied as you turned off the sink and went back to your place by the cutting board. “a pizza will be here in that same amount of time and it will be ready to eat.” he commented as he shoved his phone in his pocket. That was the final straw for you, the Seungmin in your memory, in the tin box upstairs was long gone, and the cause? Was likely he was out of love with you and in love with someone new.  

“hey, babe. Can you give me that bowl of broccoli in the sink, I was just washing them.” you looked up at Seungmin as you chopped into the veggies on the cutting board. “Babe?” Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows. “yeah, babe.” you forced and icy smile. “don’t you like that name?” you forced a chop making a loud tap against the wooden board. “no.” Seungmin replied coldly as he put the bowl of broccoli in front of you.  

The silence was as thick as the air in the kitchen as Seungmin found a place on the other side of the island parallel to you. He picked at the bowl of fruit trying to find one that he wanted to snack on while you cooked dinner. “babe.” you bit the tip of your tongue trying to stifle your chuckle. You grabbed one stalk of broccoli and chopped into the vegetable. “can I ask you a question.” you began to force your chops once again. “what?” Seungmin sighed dropping the fruit in his hand back into the bowl.  

“are you-” you gulped trying to find the courage you had a minute ago when you were calling him the nickname he clearly hated. Seungmin raised his eyebrows waiting for you to spit out your question. “are you fucking your friend?” you asked and looked up at him with a stone face.  

“what??” Seungmin’s face twisted with confusion. “are you deaf suddenly?” you stabbed the tip of the knife into the wooden board. Seungmin was speechless, or scared either way he knew he was caught. “are you fucking your friend?” you asked again this time asking more slowly. You pulled the knife from the board and set it down on the countertop. You could feel your anger boiling in your stomach, like a bottle of soda filled with mentos. You held it down best you could, because you wanted an explanation before blowing up.  

Seungmin was quiet, he approached the counter cautiously and leaned against the edge. Seungmin stared blankly at the marble countertop, his palms resting on the cool surface. “Well?” Your lower lip trembled. Seungmin sighed as he dropped his head, a hot breath exhaled from his closed lips as he cleared his throat to finally speak. “I fucking hate these countertops” he mumbled quietly.  

“That’s it!?” You finally felt the anger escape the bottle in your stomach. “The fucking counter tops!?” Seungmin watched the cutting board of chopped veggies fly across the counter until it hit the wall. You made your way around the island and stood on your toes in front of him.  

“Who cares about the fucking counter tops!” You shoved Seungmin with whatever strength you had, not even moving him an inch. “Are you or are you not sleeping with your friend!?” You pushed him again. Seungmin looked away avoiding eye contact with you. He shook his head back and forth before taking a deep breath. “I never slept with her, but I have thought about it” he replied honestly and that hurt more than him actually doing it. “But we made out a few times” he looked at you, his eyes empty and heartless.  

“Made out? What are you guys middle school kids!?” You felt the tears drizzling down your face and gathering in pools under your chin. Seungmin turned away, refusing to see your tears, knowing damn well that he couldn’t threaten whoever caused them because he was the reason. Seungmin retreated to your shared bedroom, but you followed closely.  

“don’t worry about her y/n” you exclaimed as you followed him. “you’re the only girl for me.” you continued until you were both in the room. “does that sound familiar?” your voice trembled. “just drop it okay?!” Seungmin snapped back. “i won’t see any of my friends anymore if that’s what you want!” “you would like that wouldn’t you? Just me and you no one else, just isolated but hey as long as you’re happy and not insecure right?!” Seungmin’s words dripped with venom.  

“you are an asshole Kim Seungmin.” you sniffled and wiped away the tears that were falling down your face. “and you and your friend can both go to hell.” you spat before turning away and heading straight to the share dresser. “ladies and gentlemen we have reached the climax, where y/n packs her stuff and leaves.” Seungmin shouted to an invisible audience. “you’re not going anywhere.” he challenged. “you’re right.” you replied as you continued to throw items on the floor. You turned to Seungmin and kicked the pile towards his feet. “you’re the one who is going.”  

Seungmin looked down at the pile of clothes and identified his shirts, sweats and hoodies. “like hell.” he replied. “i put the money down for this apartment, it’s in my name, and I was the one who picked those counter tops!” you argued back. “now get the fuck out.” you walked to the closet and started to toss out his shoes. “and where do you expect me to go?” he started to pick up his things from the floor. “the dorms? Your friend’s? A hotel? To Hell?!, I don’t care.” you replied coldly. As you pulled down his duffle bag from the top shelf of the closet you pulled down the boxes you shoved back up there last night. 

Everything collapsed down around your feet, you tossed the duffle bag out to him and noticed the lid to the tin popped open, spilling the contents under the empty shoe boxes and hangers from the stuff you ripped off the rod that belonged to Seungmin. You leaned down and picked up some of the paper items before leaving the closet. Seungmin was trying to pick up his items as quickly as you were tossing them out.  

“you’re acting crazy y/n” Seungmin grunted as he shoved everything in the duffle bag you threw out to him. “then go be with someone who is sane.” you walked out of the room and into the living room. Seungmin was behind you, the dufflebag spilled out his clothing and shoes he tried to stuff in, in a hurry. You opened the door and pointed outside, the cold air of the night sending a chill down your spine. “get out.” you instructed. “you’re only going to call me in an hour after you cool off.” he raised an eyebrow. “fat chance.” you argued back. “get out!” you shouted again this time earning a look from the neighbor who was barely coming home.  

Seungmin put his shoes on and walked out the door. “you’re making a mistake y/n” he turned to face you again. “i don’t think so.” you pulled the papers in your hand up so he can see them. You ripped them down the middle before shoving them against his chest and slamming the door shut. Seungmin looked at the papers you just shoved into him and watched them fall to his feet. 

He was about to turn away and just leave it for you to clean up. Until he saw the one that unfolded upon being shoved into him. “you’re Green Tea Bon Deliceaux everyday of the week, and I can’t get enough of you-” the partially ripped paper read. Seungmin dropped his duffle and started to pick up the pieces of paper, his fingers swiped through the pile before finding the other half. “-you’re my favorite person, the only girl for me and I know it’s early to say but I love you.”  

Seungmin felt the dry lump in his throat realizing that the papers that were ripped by his feet and tossed out like trash were some of the letters he wrote to you every night while he was away from you on tour, on mandatory dorm overnights, or while he was having long days at the company building and just missed you. Seungmin gathered the papers and shoved them into the duffle bag, he stepped forward, his fingers balled into a fist hovering over the door. He wanted to knock, he wanted to knock until you grew tired of his knocking and answered. When you answered he wanted to wrap you in his arms and hold you tight enough and plead and beg for your forgiveness, he wanted to recite every letter for you over and over because he could remember each one from heart.  

Instead he stood frozen, he slowly lowered his fist and wrapped his hand around the strap of his bag before turning away and leaving down the stairs. Little to his knowing you were leaning against the door, holding your breath counting in your head the seconds it would take him to knock the door. After hitting fifty, you slowly opened the door and looked outside, he was gone, leaving no trace of his presence. 

You closed the door and brought the back of your hand to your nose as you sniffled and choked out a sob. You could feel the tears watering down your face, he was right you felt like you made the biggest mistake, you couldn’t help but feel like you just hand delivered him gifted wrapped nicely to his friend.  Yet, it wasn't all your fault completely, he was the one being reckless.

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagine #seungmin imagines #seungmin angst #seungmin fanfiction #seungmin fanfic #seungmin fanfictions #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #kim seungmin imagine #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin angst

[ceapa-mica]

Family Life: Exile 🪁 - a Thrawn headcanon

My fingers did a high speed race on the keyboard writing this hc. I'm surprised they didn't fall off. 😄

Enjoy!

🔞 This is slightly NSFW 🔞 + angsty

Taglist: @bingbongooo @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @ele-millennial-weirdo @enaelyork @jesslove23 @thrawnalani @thrawnsboots @twincesskorisoka @davesrightshoe @shoe-bag @tearyeve @blackddarling @obbicrystaleo

Life in exile is not exactly easy, especially when confronted with the many dangers of Peridea and with an always curious daughter to keep safe…

In the blink of an eye you're confronted with a new reality - exile. (or in Thrawn's case exile from an exile lol) You quickly realize how dangerous Peridea is with the amount of troopers getting killed by faceless bandits while out exploring.

Since then Thrawn only sends out scouts when absolutely necessary and keeps most of the crew aboard the Chimera, safe for those in search of food. Otherwise you couldn't sustain the entire crew for much longer.

At first you're mad at your husband. You blame him for being exiled with no way to contact your family and friends, and you're not the only one.

You try to shield your daughter from the cruelty of the exile. There's a designated safe outpost for your crew where you spend some of your time. Catching fresh air and going for a walk under Peridea’s cloudy sky can lift the spirits.

She loves flying her hand crafted kite on the outpost’s rocky plateau. One time she actually put her little ysalamir on her kite. It survived, but what followed was a reprimand from her dad, telling her not to needlessly put lives at risk and that the lizard certainly didn't have any fun clinging for dear life onto that piece of fabric in the air. She never did it again.

Since there is no holonet connection on Peridea you and Thrawn teach your daughter everything she would usually learn at school in your quarters. That can't replace actual lessons with other children though. You soon realize that your daughter misses her peers from her holonet classes.

Not just the lack of friends her age but the entire situation affects your daughter’s behavior. She becomes less playful and more serious, leading to her being eager to learn more self-defense in her father’s dojo. Thrawn thinks it's a good thing. You are worried though.

Another thing you're worried about is the presence of the nightsisters. They claim that they're able to contact someone from your Galaxy, so Thrawn insists on working with them to return back home. You don't trust them though and keep your daughter as far away from them as possible.

Look, the perfect marriage doesn’t exist. Even your marriage with Thrawn has its ups and downs. You argue quite often during your time in exile. Thrawn never raises his voice though. This maker-forsaken planet weighs down on everyone’s mood, including yours.

Makeup sex helps a lot with that. Thrawn leaves more marks on you than usual. After so many years your sex life is still going strong. It's the perfect way to let out the pent up frustration with your unfortunate situation.

You’re not the only ones using sex to cope. Among your crew a few women end up pregnant and some not so secret weddings are taking place.

Meanwhile your daughter finds joy in learning how to ride a howler. She's not allowed to leave the outpost unaccompanied, a rule she doesn’t like at all. She still has this neverending thirst for knowledge and thinks the death troopers joining her on her trips through the Peridean wasteland are just slowing her down or disrupting her studies of the local flora and fauna.

One day she actually leaves on her own and gets captured by bandits. Fortunately your husband is a strategic mastermind able to track her down before it's too late. To say Thrawn was mad is an understatement. He reprimands her in a dangerously low voice and grounds her for an entire month. He was actually as scared for her safety as you.

Tbh Thrawn feels guilty af since you’re in this exile because of a mistake he made, and during that incident with the bandits he felt he let his family down again. He orders his best people to take out those bandits once and for all to make this place a little safer for all of you.

At the point your kid is 10 years old she's super interested in collecting and documenting rock fossils she finds on trips through the rocky wasteland. Thrawn thinks they are beautiful, telling her that nature is truly the greatest artist. A few fossils even find their way into his art collection.

Most people would consider a 10 year old too young to use a blaster. Thrawn on the other hand thinks it's the right age to get her used to the weapon. He takes it upon himself to teach her to shoot and gifts her her first blaster. He sleeps better at night knowing she can defend herself from a distance. The circumstances make it necessary for her to learn this skill this early, at least that's what he tells himself.

You take your daughter to the outpost almost every day at this point and show her how she can help out. You both help wherever you can. Collecting firewood and herbs for tea, cooking stews, building shelter, and even taming wild howlers.

Thrawn doesn't join you at the outpost, he's busy keeping everything running. Even in exile he takes his job as seriously as ever.

When you and your daughter return to your quarters at nightfall you can barely keep your eyes open. So when Thrawn returns after a busy day of keeping his troops motivated, and finds the loves of his life cuddled up on the sofa waiting for him, he feels at peace. He knows wherever his life takes him, you will follow.

Your daughter shows interest in helping babysit the offspring of your crew. Thrawn agrees, glad his little girl accepts that kind of responsibility. Soon she, and a few junior officers, look after a bunch of rambunctious toddlers. It keeps her occupied and playing with other children, despite them being eight+ years younger, benefits her mental health. She becomes more playful again and no longer feels like she has to grow up fast in this exile.

Thrawn is still busy working on a plan to escape Peridea. Seeing your daughter adapting to this exile makes you less worried for her. In fact, you get used to Peridea as well, without losing hope of returning home one day.

You know how much pressure lasts on Thrawn's shoulders, and you do your best to help him deal with it. He's so glad his family has his back at all times, and he knows that he's not really far from home, because his home is his family - you and your little girl, right there with him. As long as he's got you both, he is exactly where he needs to be the most. He's determined to return to your home galaxy though. He still has his mission that needs to be finished. Then, and only then, he will be able to introduce his loved ones to his homeworld and his people.

There is one more family life hc I'm planning. One thing we haven't explored yet is how Thrawn (+you) will deal with your daughter once she hits puberty. That will be the next and last family life hc coming soon.

#thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #blue man hot #thrawn headcanon #dad thrawn #star wars rebels #ahsoka series #star wars