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#once its been a while i just assume & hope everything made it where its supposed to be
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fishes for the homos i mean homies
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[ID: nine fish with collaged scales of different colored and patterned paper, each with glittery fins.]
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lahooozaherr · 7 months
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What Was I Made For?
Part 1
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Please note: This blog stands with Palestine. If you are interacting with my account and TLOU related posts, I ask that you PLEASE visit these links. Be critical and mindful while partaking in TLOU content and be aware that creator Neil Druckmann is a Zionist.
Word Count: 4.7K
Warnings: Hypothermia??, soft!Joel, a pet name (sweetheart), Joel kinda goes to therapy, mention of child/loved one loss, I think that’s it but as always please let me know
MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.
Chapter Summary: Joel and Tommy find you on their morning patrol, saving you from succumbing to hypothermia. You and Joel bond almost immediately, visiting you in your recovery. He takes your recommendation for a book you both relate to.
A/N: Howdy y’all, I’m so sorry I posted my Masterlist and lowkey ghosted :’D I went on vacation, my sweet bby cat passed away, life happened. But I finally got this edited where I want it and I hope I can keep those creative wheels turnings. Please comment and reblog if you end up liking it, it keeps me going!
Joel Vibes Playlist
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | My Taglist
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It had been a long journey, but you think you’d finally made it as you trekked across the snowy landscape. It was barely before the crack of dawn, the sky still a deep blue with scattered stars. You did your best to travel here from your previous “home”, coming across a dead traveler’s map indicating the supposed safe place.
You were exhausted, cursing to yourself that you shouldn’t have pushed your body as much as you had. But you were desperate. And scared, so tired of being scared. Traveling alone was already risky, but with your body pushed to its limit, it was twice as much.
You find your way to a clearing with some trees and bushes when you collapse. Your body had quite literally given up on you, after everything you put it through. What a cruel irony that it would be just when you’d made it to your destination.
Consciousness was becoming harder and harder to hold onto as you laid there in the snow, body too worn out to even shiver. You get one last look of the night sky as everything fades to black.
—————————————————————————
Joel didn’t particularly care for patrol, he just simply did it because he was one of the most fit for the job. Settling in Jackson meant doing your part for the community, and this became his. But over time he appreciated the solitude it provided. Once in a while there had been trouble with a wandering Infected, but nothing he couldn’t handle.
An early horse ride through the quiet mountainside outside of the town just as the sun rises ended up being a soothing balm for his aches. He’d ride alongside Tommy, sometimes engaging in conversation, but most of the time the brothers rode on in a companionable silence.
There’s something healing about being able to spend time in nature without as much fear for impending danger or survival.
Tommy was midway through his explanation for plans to head straight to breakfast upon their return when he stopped, halting his horse underneath him. “Joel, look, do you see that?” He points ahead of him. Joel stops alongside him, following his pointer finger, squinting his eyes to see better. The sun had just started to rise and cast a bright light off of the snow.
Joel finally spots what Tommy is bringing attention to, what looks like a slumped-over body in the snow. He swiftly jumps off his horse, bringing his rifle over his shoulder to ready just in case of danger. He signs to Tommy for silence with a finger raised to his lips, quietly stalking towards the body. It doesn’t move.
When he approaches the body, seeing it’s you, he sighs and signs to Tommy that it’s safe. Tommy releases the breath he held in, “what is it?”
“A girl,” Joel kneels next to you and checks you over, bringing a hand to touch your face. You’re ice cold, enough for him to at first think you’re dead. But he knows better than to assume from just that, moving his fingers over your neck’s pulse point, then reaching for your wrist. He feels a pulse. Faint, but definitely there.
“She’s alive!” He shouts to Tommy, who jumps off his horse, reaching into the satchel on its side and pulls out a homemade quilt. After making a quick look for obvious wounds on your body, Joel makes quick work of removing his top coat and maneuvers you around to wrap you in it. It’s leather and thick, something that should hopefully trap any heat it can.
Tommy’s next to Joel’s side in an instant, handing him the blanket he also uses to wrap you in.
Joel shuffles on his knees to prepare himself to lift you, feeling a twinge in his lower back that makes him groan. Tommy holds his arms out, “here I got ‘er, don’t hurt your back.”
“Nah, nah it’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah it’s ok, you take care of the horses. I’ got her, I don’t want to try to sling her over one though.”
“Alright.”
Tommy returns to the horses, connecting the leash of Joel’s to his. He mounts his and leads them after Joel.
Joel adjusts you in his arms, cautiously getting you into a proper position to carry you. His eyes dart all over your features, taking them in. His mind runs through all the ways they can take a shortcut back to the town and considers them. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been out here and has no idea how much time you could have.
He scrunches the hood of the blanket around your face, not completely covering it but just enough to start building some warmth. For the meantime, at least.
He stomps one foot before the other in the snow, breaking it apart with the large steps to get through. Him and Tommy head back down their trail.
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You are frozen, you can definitely feel that. Your limbs feel stiff and threaten to tremble more than they could be if it weren’t for the all encompassing embrace you feel. When you start to hazily come to, you realize you’re wrapped and being carried.
Hold on. You’re being carried?
Before you can even process the entire thought, your heart rate starts to pick up. You hear your blood in your ears and bile rises at the back of your throat as panic starts to set in. Where are you being taken? Whose carrying you?”
When you open your eyes, you don’t even stop to take a look at who's holding you, you just do your damndest to wiggle out of their arms.
“Whoa, WHOA there!”
You hear a man cry out but you continue to jerk away. He fumbles his grip on you but still manages to keep you close. He kneels to set you on the ground, leaning against him.
“Hey. Heyyy, settle down now,” he says in a low voice, attempting to calm you down. With his hand that’s not underneath you, he uses it to cup the side of your face and bring your attention to him.
You stop fighting back as soon as you meet his eyes. Dark, brown eyes you become instantly lost in. They look concerned, and warm as he keeps them on yours. You start to calm down, only the sound of your ragged breathing between you.
“Hey now, it’s ok, you’re safe I promise,” he almost pleads to you, attempting further to coaxe you down. Not that you have much strength to fight back anyhow. But the look in his eyes, and the sincerity in his voice, breaks through to you. You could almost cry, it’s a miracle you were found.
“We’re taking you back to our town,” he explains, his southern accent peeking through the lilt in his tone. “We’ll fix ya up there, ok sweetheart?”
Before he can really finish what he’s saying, you’ve been pulled back into a deep sleep. You’re finally experiencing a sliver of safety since god knows when, and it’s enough for your body to relax and give in to the darkness.
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When you come to, your body feels instantly thrusted into fight or flight. You open your eyes with a sharp inhale through your nose, hands clutching the bedding surrounding you. You feel a large hand quickly cover yours, holding and giving an intentional squeeze.
You look over to that side of you and see the man from earlier. He’s seated beside you, one hand over yours and the other rubbing your shoulder. It feels like he’s trying to help ground you, once again.
“Hey I’m here, it’s alright,” he practically cooes. The timbre of his voice is stern but smooth at the same time. The hand on your shoulder runs up and down your arm.
You stare back at him, speechless. Your breathing is rapid and hard to bring down, heart hammering in your chest.
“Here, just breathe with me, ok?” He starts to demonstrate to you a breathing technique, inhaling and exhaling from his nose as well, in timed increments. You do as he says and follow along, matching your breathing to his. He guides the hand he’s holding to sit flat on your belly, then reaches for your other hand to place on your chest. He gives a quick grunt of approval as he continues along with you.
After a few minutes, your rapid heartbeat and breathing subside. When he notices, one side of his mouth turns up into a grin.
You study his features as you come down, noticing his eyes once again. He looks like a gruff man on the surface, but his emotions shine bright through his eyes. His salt and pepper hair is fluffy and slightly tamed. Scruff that matches frames his jaw, save for a few bare patches. But that doesn’t take away from how handsome he is.
“There now, there ya go,” he encourages, giving your hand another intentional squeeze. “The so-called therapist in town taught me that. Helpful, huh?”
You can’t seem to muster a response despite the thousands of questions that flood your mind. You look around at your surroundings and do your best to soak it all in. You’re in a normal bedroom, in a very normal bed covered with quilts. A normalcy you haven’t seen in so long.
You notice to the side of him is a pair of reading glasses on top of a book. When your eyes meet him again, he grins cautiously as he removes his hands and leans back. You already miss the safety of his touch.
“Did you….stay with me?” You finally stutter out a question. He sits straight in his seat and nods, you can see the flex of his shoulders from how tight his plaid shirt stretches across them.
“I figured you’d want to wake up to a somewhat familiar face,” he answers with a chuckle. “You’re in Jackson, by the way.”
You lean back against the pillows, releasing a sigh of relief. You made it, you really made it. And this man saved you, almost in more ways than one already.
“Name’s Joel,” he offers. In return, you share your name as well.
His gaze on you feels comforting, the most you’ve felt from a man in ages. It’s very hard to come by that in this world.
A knock on the door startles you, causing you to reflexively grab for Joel’s hand. He allows you, wrapping your hand in his. The door opens and a woman approaches from the other side, “hey there, heard some commotion. Is our girl finally awake?”
“She sure is,” Joel responds to her. She nods in acknowledgement to him and approaches your other side, “I’m one of the town doctors, Elaina.” You snap out of your daze and respond with your name again and she smiles.
“Joel got you here just in the nick of time, any longer and you would have been in serious trouble. Mild hypothermia. After a week or so of rest and recovery, you should be just fine. Apologies for the change in clothes, I had to check for wounds. I’m sure you understand.”
“H-how long was I out?”
“Not too long since I found you,” Joel interjects. “But at least been a day.”
The more you’ve sat at attention, the more you can feel the stiff soreness throughout your limbs. You slump back into the bed and release a breathy exhale. It definitely feels like it will be some time before you’re back up and running.
Joel pats your hand and stands, “I’ll be right back.” When he rises to stand, you reach out to grab his hand back. But halfway through you realize how strange that might seem and stop yourself. But he seems to notice, and gives you a reassuring smile, “I’m grabbing you some food, I won’t be long.” You concede, “ok.”
After he leaves, the doctor places a stethoscope across your back and chest. You do as she directs so she can check you over. She tells you to give yourself about a week or so before any activity, stay in bed, etc. and to not worry.
“Now that you’re in Jackson, you’re a part of the community, the details can be worried about later,” she affirms to you. Relief washes over you. You feel so grateful to have ended up here. To have been saved. Especially to be saved by Joel.
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Later, Joel returns with a tray of food. Something light, for the time being. You can’t overdo it in this state. You thank him before promptly digging in.
He sits back in the chair he occupied before, bringing his book and glasses back to his lap.
“Is that what you were doing while you waited for me?” You query, as he responds with an amused huff, hanging the reading glasses in the front pocket of his flannel shirt.
“Yeah, had to pass the time somehow,” he mutters as he takes a quick shuffle through the book pages. “Been pretty caught up in this one lately.”
He holds it for you to see the name: No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy. The name seems familiar, maybe you’ve read something of his. It’ll probably come to you later.
You stop eating your food for a moment, processing the situation some more. “Thank you,” you begin to say.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he replies in a voice almost mournful. Haggard from years of living in this kind of world.
“Well, I am,” you state.
You stare into each other's eyes for a few moments, not budging. His expression seems conflicted, like he doesn’t know how to receive thanks in the first place. He pats both of his legs before standing, picking up his book from your side table. “Well I best be lettin’ you rest.”
You wish you could ask him to stay, but prevent yourself from that as well. You’ve only just met the man, but even then, after only just meeting, he’s made you feel the most security you’ve had in so long. Maybe it’s the abandonment issues but your heart screams for him to stay.
You’re not sure how to respond with this whirlwind in your chest crying out for comfort. You settle with a nod to him on his way out. He stops in the doorway to give you a wave goodbye and pauses, eyes lingering on you before he finally turns to leave.
The doctor, Elaina, checks on you a few more times before leaving you to rest for the night. As much as you feel lonely, you also feel content. It’s hard to resist the real mattress and blankets that surround you. The silence is comfortable as you drift back into a proper slumber.
—————————————————————————
He returns the next morning, to your surprise again. He finds you sitting upright in bed, just after Elaina had done her morning check on you. She gives him a small smile in acknowledgment passing him on her way out of the door.
“You came back?” You questioned. He lingers in the doorway with a tray of food, eyes searching yours for silent permission to enter.
He looks down at the tray and back to you, “I figured I’d stop by after my patrol….bring you some proper breakfast.”
You’re stunned and start to become very aware of how obvious that emotion is displayed in your expression. It’s such a kind gesture, from someone who just barely met (saved) you yesterday. Worry laces his features subtly, when you notice you smile, “thank you.” His face brightens slightly, trading the worrisome facade for one of relief.
He gingerly sets the tray upon your lap and returns to the same seat beside you. A sigh of relief escapes his lips, you’re not sure if it’s from his busy morning or that he’s attained your approval. You don’t mind either way.
“How’re ya feelin’ today?” He asks, adjusting himself in his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs.
“Already so much better,” you respond as you situate the tray of food on your lap. “I keep thinking it’s a dream. I haven’t been met with kindness like this in so long.”
His face is stoic but his eyes speak volumes, full of empathy. You can tell he understands the feeling without saying it. He leans back and folds his arms across his chest as he watches you take bites of your food.
“Where are ya from?”
“Denver QZ. I came across a map with notes about here. Figured I had nothing to lose.”
“By yourself?”
“Yeah. I’ve been alone for a while.”
The conversation grows grim, nearing a tender spot. A spot Joel is very familiar with.
“That’s very dangerous, travelin’ by yourself,” he states, raising an eyebrow at you.
“It was. I’ve learned to be quiet and lie low. But I know I’m just lucky,” you sigh. You were very aware of how bad it could have gone. But self preservation is thin when you’re isolated and desperate. You don’t feel like you have to explain yourself much more in regards to that. He seems to accept it, though.
“Well…” he begins, taking your finished tray and setting it to the side. “You’ve come to the right place. Tommy’ll figure out the details.”
“Tommy?”
“My brother. He an’ I found you together, he’ll come see you himself eventually,” he continues.
“But you just worry about resting, leave to rest to us and Elaina. We’ll help you get settled in.”
You nod slowly, absorbing the new information. It’s been such a relief to have others to rely on, to finally find a community. You can’t wait for this fresh start.
You look around him, “didn’t bring your book today?”
“Ah, it’s at home. I thought about bringing it up but I didn’t know if you were going to talk my ear off or not,” he teases, giving you a half-grin.
You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, “been a long time since I’ve done that, too.” You chuckle under your breath.
But as you relax back into the bed, stomach full, you feel like you could sleep forever. The satisfied feeling tempts you back to sleep, but you’re too interested in your new friendship with Joel. You wonder why such an intimidating man like himself chooses to stick by you.
“I was thinking about where I’d seen that author before, from the book you’re reading,” you tell him. “It’s been a very long time but I’ve read his book called ‘The Road’.”
You think back to when you had read the book, finding it in a pile in an abandoned library you’d stumbled into years ago. It was one of the few you’d taken.
“‘The Road’, huh?” He rubs at the scruff on his chin with his knuckles. “What’s it about?”
You give him a shrug, “well, a father and son in the apocalypse. Although a bit of a hard read, nowadays.”
Joel’s interest peaked, “father and son?”
You nod with a yawn, “But it’s honestly good, I still enjoyed it….” Your voice starts to trail off, growing more tired.
“Is that so?” He ponders for a moment, genuinely. “If I see it I’ll grab it.”
You nuzzle into your pillow with a sleepy grin as you close your eyes, “if you do…..we can talk about it….”
Joel watches you fall asleep, exhaustion finally winning over. He smiles to himself.
—————————————————————————
Joel does find the book, pretty quickly actually. When he left you to rest, he sought out the makeshift library in town. By a stroke of luck, the selection had plenty of that author. Even doubles of some of his titles. But Joel sifted through until he finally came across a copy of ‘The Road’.
He gives it a look over on his walk home, reading through the synopsis on the back.
A father and his son walk alone through burned America. Nothing moves in the ravaged landscape save the ash on the wind.
It makes him think of Ellie and Sarah. The world as it is now. He remarks on how ironic it feels to have this recommended to him, by someone who barely knows him.
He starts on it that night.
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“You’re back,” you state, your eyes meeting Joel’s as he lingers in your doorway. Again, with a tray of food in his hands.
“I didn’t have patrol today,” is his only explanation he offers. You accept that, because you’ve been secretly hoping to see him again anyways.
He sets the tray in front of you as you murmur a thank you. He settles back into the seat next to you, “how are you feeling this morning?”
“Much better,” you explain. “I slept for so long, Elaina had to wake me up to eat dinner.”
“Good, I’m sure your body needs it.”
Heat threatens to cross your cheeks from that statement until you tamp it down, “do you eat?”
Joel quirks an eyebrow in response, you immediately realize how poorly the question sounded.
“I-I’m sorry, I mean, you’ve been bringing me food. I hope you’ve also been eating?”
“I do,” he shrugs. “But, it’s hard to, sometimes.”
The expression on his face is somber, something you find harder to read. But based on your personal experience, feelings like anxiety and stress can certainly do that to someone. You feel it’s best to not press further.
He reaches into his inner coat pocket and pulls out a book, laying it next to your legs, “I found you some readin’ material.”
A soft gasp escapes your lips, followed by a smile. You pick up the copy of ‘The Road’, turning it in your hands. It’s been too long since you last held a book that wasn’t at least falling apart or being eaten by mold.
You flip through the pages, marveling at the condition. It’s not brand new by any means, but it’s at least cared for. Adorned with the regular wear and tear of readers' in the past.
“I’m almost done with it,” he notes. Your heart swells in your chest. He was so quick to find and read it. You see where he’s bookmarked it, just a couple of pages from the end. There’s just nothing like the feeling of someone taking your recommendation for a book and actually reading it.
“That was so fast!” You exclaim, opening the book where he last was.
“I couldn’t put it down, to be honest.”
“You must have really like it?”
“I do, very much,” he grins. “I saw some of myself in there.”
“I love when that happens, even if it’s sad.”
You start to skim through, looking for something. He watches you intently as your fingers slide through the pages. The look on your face is satisfying to him, a twinkle returning to your eyes.
“Ah, here, one of my favorite quotes,” you begin to read the passage out loud.
‘You have to carry the fire.
I don’t know how to.
Yes, you do.
Is the fire real? The fire?
Yes it is.
Where is it? I don’t know where it is.
Yes you do. It’s inside you. It always was there. I can see it.’
You lift your head to meet Joel’s gaze, warm with a hint of sorrow. Your emotions probably match his own, in some capacity.
“It made me think of my daughter,” he admits quietly. Your smile drops, he gestures for you to hand him the book. When he takes it, he turns through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He reads the passage.
‘Each the other’s world entire.’
You remember that line. You’ve thought about that a lot. The meaning of it. You used to have others in your life like that. Loved ones lost to the beginning of the end of the world as you knew it.
He stares down at the page, caressing it with his thumb. His chest expands with a deep breath. When he looks back up to you, his eyes are glazed over. Your eyebrows turn upward in concern for him.
He jerks his chin towards your tray, “you should eat.”
You and almost entirely forgot about the food, too caught up in the moment to even feel your stomach rumble. You bring the tray closer to begin your meal, “your daughter?”
He doesn’t respond right away, which sends your stomach into a somersault. You feel insensitive for asking like that. For something so obviously personal and distressing.
“I-I’m sorry, I keep getting ahead of myself,” you stammered, launching into damage control mode. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he reassures you, his voice is tender and low. The nickname would be music to your ears if it weren’t accompanied with such sadness. But you’re so empathetic to this, you know how hard it can be to find the words. He doesn’t seem offended, at least.
Your meal is spent listening to him explain what happened, to your surprise. You’d half expect someone in his position to keep that closed off. A wound that still feels open and fresh.
But he tells what happened that day everything changed. How his daughter was ripped away from him so suddenly, her life slipped away as he held her in his arms. Cradled her long after she was gone, closer to his chest than the day she was born.
He also tells you about Ellie, how that relationship came to be. He’s more vague with this story, but you feel like you have a mutual understanding of that. You feel honored enough that he was willing to share with you. You’re happy he’s found purpose again. No one could ever replace Sarah, but Ellie became the lighthouse in the dark that he desperately needed, much to his own surprise.
It’s extremely hard to move on from something like that. It’s frightening to find new love and always fear of losing it again. It’s scary to be vulnerable in an apocalyptic world that seeks to stamp down any semblance of safety and consistency.
Food tray long since finished and set to the side, you bring the book back to your lap as you listen to him finish his story. You thumb through the pages until you find a line that came to your mind as he spoke about Sarah and Ellie. You read it out loud.
‘You have my whole heart. You always did.’
He smiles softly, cupping his hand over yours to give you a small affectionate squeeze as you hold the book. You return the gesture, opening your palm for him. His hands are large, warm and calloused. The warmth of his hand in yours is soothing.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” you comfort him.
“I don’t usually do that,” he murmurs as he brings a sleeve up to dab at the tears that say at the ends of his eyes. “Must be special.”
You smile bashfully, your eyes drawn down to your lap to avoid his gaze. You hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest.
“I regularly ask myself….if I couldn’t save my baby, the one most precious to me, what was I made for?”
You meet his eyes with tears pricking at the ends of yours, you try to convey as much empathy and compassion as possible in your eyes. Let him read them.
“You were made to love, and be loved,” you tell him, matter of factly.
His lips part in awe, rendered speechless. You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if he had only simply forgotten this fact.
Not him, not with his past, not with the blood on his hands, is what he almost says. You had both alluded to each other at times that you’ve both had to do things to survive this world. Most have. But you were still somehow loving, kind and compassionate. Even to someone like him. He knows how he comes across to people in town, and it’s hard to adjust and unlearn that survival habit to be brooding and formidable. But it’s also what’s comfortable, what he’s used to. It’s carried him this far in life.
The two of you stay like that for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes.
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Divider by @saradika (I usually make sure to reblog your dividers but I wasn’t sure if I got this one so I’m tagging you here. I usually get my dividers from you but I don’t want to spam you with my fics so I wanted to let you know here at least ;3;)
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starlostastronaut · 6 months
Text
DAY 10 | ALL WE ARE
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PAIRING: kim seungmin x reader
GENRE: college au (not mentioned), rivals (more like annoyances) to lovers
WC: 1.70k
CW: reader finds seungmin annoying, dancer!reader, photographer!seungmin
PROMPT: "i don't need your help" "are you sure? cause it sure looks like it"
marking 22:16 and completing another day haha. somehow the biases get the long oneshots (*cough* day 3 *cough*) but i genuinely had so much fun writing this (while procrastinating learning bio lmao). anyway, i think i can see this having a part two, so maybe in the future... hope you enjoy <3
title from border - years & years
general masterlist here
<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>
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You threw your bag on the floor, not really caring where it was going to land. You rolled up your sleeves and made sure your hair was out of your face before you walked towards one of the barres in the dance studio. You and the dance team were going to take some promo photos for your Instagram, so naturally, as the captain, you offered to come early and set everything up. Hyunjin and Felix, two of your teammates, were supposed to arrive soon to help you move everything, but you decided you could start on your own.
You prepared the background and removed all unnecessary objects that would get in the way and pose as a distraction in the photos. Then you took out your own decorations and began carefully placing them around the scene to create the illusion of a frequently used place. You were sure the photographer would move at least a half of them because he was an annoying perfectionistic dick, but you needed to keep yourself busy somehow. It was better than just idly sitting and waiting for one of the guys to show up to help you move the heavy stuff.
But now everything you could do was prepared, and Hyunjin and Felix were still nowhere in sight. You were sitting on the spot of the photographer, trying to see if anything could be altered to look better or be pushed out of the way before the equipment was moved to its correct place. As you began to feel frustrated with the two dancers, you got up and walked over to your bag, digging through it to find your phone. A new message awaited you.
Hyunjin
got lost buying coffee. me & lix will be there in 20!!
Me
hurry up!!
Shaking your head, you pocketed your phone. Trust Hyunjin to get lost at the most inconvenient times. You would bet anything that that wasn't even the real reason; Hyunjin could find the way to the studio blindfolded, given how much time he spent here. The more plausible reason was that the two dumbasses simply forgot, and Hyunjin was trying to cover their asses.
Well, the reason wasn't important. More importantly, the photographer would be here soon to set up his equipment, and the barres still needed to be moved. “How heavy can it be, right?” you murmured to yourself and wrapped your hands around one end of the barre. You managed to lift it up just fine, but the other end was still on the ground due to the barre's length. You tried to drag it across the floor, and to your surprise, it moved, but once you heard the ugly screech the floor made, you dropped the bar with a thud. It was not worth damaging the floor.
“Do you want help?” someone said as they walked through the door. A relief washed over you, thinking it was Hyunjin at first, but then you realized the voice and tone didn't match. As you turned around, the relief quickly turned to annoyance because the photographer had arrived.
Kim Seungmin, also known as the pain in your ass. He had been working with you for close to two years now. You weren’t sure how he even got the job in the first place, but you assumed it was Felix's doing since the two were friends. But Seungmin was good, so you kept him around. Much to your dismay, it was always Seungmin's photos and videos that went viral on social media. As a photographer, he was simply amazing, but as a person, not so much, despite everything Felix tried to convince you otherwise. Seungmin was always brutally honest, always had some witty remarks, and wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He would make jokes about anyone and anything. You weren’t an exception to his humor. When he committed to a vision, no one could tell him anything. His attitude made you lose your mind at times. He was an organized rule-follower, but at the same time so carefree, energetic, and just himself. You had to admire that about him. He didn’t care about anything, which was something you secretly envied. You were always too quick to crumble under the judgment of other people, another reason why his jokes affected you so much.
“I'm fine,” you spat out, turning your back to him again. “You can set up over there.” You pointed towards the empty spot close to the window, chosen carefully for natural light. You heard Seungmin scoff, but he did go set down his camera and other things he had brought. You heard footsteps, and then his face was back in your field of vision.
He got rid of his jacket, standing there in a simple t-shirt. He was never the one to dress up, preferring casual clothing, but he had this personal style that looked good on him. You had seen him dressed formally at events, but you liked this Seungmin much more. He looked more relaxed, more like himself. It was this soft style that enhanced his natural beauty the most. That was another thing you would never say to him. So what? You were allowed to think he's pretty while also thinking he's annoying, were you not?
Seungmin grabbed the other end of the barre. “Come on, on three.” He counted it, and together you lifted it up and carried it where it needed to be. You repeated the process with the other barre as well. What surprised you was that for the whole time, Seungmin hadn't uttered any wannabe funny jokes. That was unusual for him. But you could come back to that later. The costumes still needed to be brought in. You went to the hall to find the storage. As you entered the cramped room just down the hall, you spotted the box you needed right on the top shelf. “Perfect,” you muttered under your breath and stood on your toes, trying to reach the box. You managed to somehow wiggle it closer to the edge, and you were praying it wouldn't fall on your head.
Suddenly, you were pushed out of the way. “Wait, let me,” Seungmin said, effortlessly taking the box down. “Anything else?” Stunned, you wordlessly pointed to a smaller box, funnily enough also on top. With his height, Seungmin had no trouble reaching that one either. He placed the box on top of the first one, and before you could say anything, he carried both boxes back outside to where you were going to do the shoot, leaving you alone in the storage closet. You locked it up quickly, and you ran after him. You caught up to him just as he was setting the boxes down in the corner.
“Why are you suddenly nice to me?” you asked, leaning on the door frame. You were confused. Normally, Seungmin would take the piss out of you for your poor planning. But so far, he has been nothing but helpful and kind. “Are you feeling sick?” you added after a few seconds, feeling brave.
“What do you mean?”
You shrugged. “I don't know. Usually, you'd make fun of me. Tell some stupid joke.” You watched carefully his reaction. His body tensed up but then relaxed again. There's something defeated about his attitude now.
Seungmin ran a hand through his bangs. "The truth is, I was trying to get your attention. Clearly, that didn't work,” he mumbled, all of his usual confidence and ease gone.
Oh.
“Well, I'm not surprised,” you scoffed. “If that was your idea of flirting, it sucked.”
Seungmin laughed bitterly. “Yeah, Felix told me that much. Which is why I'm trying a new approach.” He looked up, and you found his eyes bright and sparkling with energy, despite his mood right now. He looked like a puppy, which was so adorable that it was unfair.
Double oh.
Kim Seungmin was trying to flirt with you? In what alternate universe have you found yourself? Never in a million years would you think that was what all his teasing meant, but apparently this was the reality. With horror, you realized you weren’t opposed to the idea. No, you were intrigued. This sudden change in his behavior, what he was telling you now... Looking back at your recent encounters, you realized he was, in fact, nicer than he used to be, but those were still a far cry from today. He still teased you at any given chance. And deep down, you knew that Seungmin was a kind man, but to help you without saying a word like he did just now must have meant something. Maybe what he was saying was really true.
Feeling genuinely curious as well as enjoying the feeling of finally having the upper hand and finally being able to tease him for a change, you voiced your next question. “Why? You like me or something?” You cocked an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. You peeled yourself away from the door frame and slowly walked closer to the photographer.
Seungmin seemed to go through all stages of panic in about three seconds. Subconsciously, he began playing with the rings he was wearing as a form of grounding. It was a rare sight to see Seungmin, always so calm and collected, fidgeting and feeling nervous. As evil as it might have sounded, a part of you enjoyed seeing him like this, being put down from the pedestal of confidence he himself built. It made him more like you, more human.
But before Seungmin could answer anything besides a stuttered "I", the door flew open. You had never in your life wanted to smack Hwang Hyunjin more than right now. He barged in, holding a half-empty cup of iced Americano and apologizing loudly. Felix trailed behind him like a lost kitten.
“We're so coming back to this conversation after the shoot,” you said in a hushed voice towards Seungmin, who just dumbly nodded and retreated back to his equipment while you went to scold Hyunjin (and Felix, but you could never be truly mad at him). As you made your way towards the two boys, you didn't notice the proud and amused smirk on Seungmin's face.
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taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo
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roguegrove · 15 days
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halstarion wip
okay so i have been writing this for a little while, my first ever actual fanfic. annnnnd i have the beginning "done" and i was wondering if y'all would be so kind as to give it a little read and feedback, let me know if i am heading anywhere interesting?
ETA: i left half the fic out for like three minutes lololol sorry
astarion/halsin, pg at this juncture, definitely won't be at one point. very first draft, inspired by hozier's "first time"
summary: Canon-led look at a relationship between Astarion and Halsin, exploring further, following the arcs in the Hozier song, “First Time.”
Astarion learns about life, death, love, and freedom in his relationship with Halsin.
“Little star,” slipped from scarred lips that first time, sounding easy as a summer’s breeze. 
The words instead dunked Astarion into a frigid river, startling awake parts of him long since laid to rest. Terrifying, encompassing, heart stopping. It settled into a little shiver and something else. Oddly…refreshing? It made his skin feel like it fit funnily, worming its way underneath every dead layer and making a home within him, not unlike the tadpole, changing him irrevocably.
He, of course, was aware of the different possible meanings of his name. An old mark once waxed poetic about it to him, assuming the vampire had chosen it himself as most elves his age did. Being as it was one of the few remnants from his past, Astarion was a bit protective of his name. It was one of the only vulnerable spots he knew himself to still have. Someone, somewhere gave him that name. Someone looked at the baby he once was and deemed him sweet enough for his name and its meaning. 
Maybe at one point he was someone’s little star, something bright and twinkling in the darkness. He was out of the habit of imagining who gave him the title, though this wasn’t an unexplored dream. There was a time when he imagined the soft arms, soft eyes, soft words of his nomenclator whispering to him in a language he barely remembered, cradling him in the darkest depths of Cazador’s cruelty. He was once held with the kind of reverence reserved for a long hoped-for child, and that thought had sustained him for nearly half a century at one point, pulling his mind from the experience of his body and taking him into that parental embrace. 
Spoken so boldly, so nonchalantly in the open air of the camp left him emotionally naked where he stood. Astarion imagined the last time he heard it might’ve also been the last time he stood in the sun as he did now. Fitting, he supposed, as his current life experience felt as foreign and unreal as the memories he made up in his dissociations. It didn’t escape him that the gentle way the druid Halsin spoke his name was as close to the way it was always supposed to sound as anything he could imagine. 
Halsin’s voice sounded like the smell of campfire as it went out, like the ground shaking from thunder far away, like the way rough bark feels on a smooth palm. Practically everything he said sounded beautiful, and Astarion’s name was no different. Halsin’s lips didn’t just form the words, but cradled them, placing them lovingly into the world as if they were worthy of care. 
The sound of his name had never sounded so sweet, not after centuries of morphing into a curse. More than spoken with care, his name was treated as a command, as a tug on a leash or a noose. Cazador’s voice poisoned Astarion’s name with his venom, whether delivered within a puncture or a masked sweetness. He began regarding it as a scourge, the sound of it acting as a warning for what awful things followed. A necessary distance from his name formed, leaving it behind with his suffering body most days. At camp, he tentatively allowed ‘Astarion’ to settle back into him as his companions spoke it without malice, without inflicting pain. It was with more indifference, informality than anything else, but maybe that was the casual way most people regarded their own name when they had anything else besides it. 
Halsin turned his curse of a name back into a prayer, but his kindness was such a practiced part of him that Astarion wondered if it was even intentional. Maybe it was a druid thing or just a Halsin thing, but the natural respect and care he gave to all living creatures was difficult for the younger elf to understand. He could understand if it was a rouse, hiding an ulterior motive, sure, but he wasn’t sure Halsin even had the capacity to lie let alone manipulate him. 
A hand reached for him as the words did, Halsin’s big paw tentative as it came toward Astarion like he was some injured small creature or something. It was clear that the older man was trying to find the best way to get him to feel comfortable, and the thought stirred something in his belly. Annoyance, trepidation, butterflies? The hand came with a request, not just to offer Astarion the sweet version of his name.
"Little star,” he’d called, as if his request was simple, as if it didn’t shake Astarion to his core.
  Blinking himself out of the momentary reverie, Astarion turned on his heel to take in the scene. Halsin was seated at one corner of his little camp, on the bare ground, large legs folded beneath him. It was only then that Astarion noticed the curls of wood scattered around him, the knife in his hand, the mangled bit of twig resting on his thigh. Was he whittling? How...quaint. Feigning casual, Astarion cocked a hip and an eyebrow, drawling. 
“What was that, dear druid?” 
“I was wondering if you would do a lazy bear a favor and hand me that bit of basswood just out of reach,” Halsin answered, a chuckle below the surface of the sound. “If it’s not too much trouble, of course.”
There was a glint to his eye that made Astarion feel like he’d been caught doing something more nefarious than simply walking past. The request was innocent, if not a possible ploy to just get his attention, and yet the vampire felt like he must tread carefully. Those hazel eyes saw more than most, Astarion knew. Beyond the wizened age of the former First Druid, Halsin had the unique ability to see what many others overlooked, and Astarion’s carefully crafted masks did nothing to deter him. He often wondered if in that sweet nature hid a schemer who kept tabs as weapons; after all, that would be what he’d do, what he did do. 
With careful, graceful movements that did little to hide the truth of the disarmament he just experienced, Astarion plucked the wood from the ground and offered it to Halsin with a flick of his wrist. 
“Is this what you’re after?” 
“Ah, yes,” Halsin beamed when he got the frightened animal to eat from his palm. “Many thanks, my friend.” 
Friend? Astarion barely grasped the concept let alone considered this lumbering teddybear of a man one of his. He could scarcely bring himself to trust Halsin, so warm affection was definitely not on the table yet. 
Still, being in Halsin’s good graces could be nothing more than an asset. 
On went the charm, an enticing smile tugging at Astarion’s lips as he peered down his nose curiously at the older man’s project. 
“And what, pray tell, are you doing? Not carving stakes, I hope?” 
At that, the laugh that burst from Halsin both startled Astarion and warmed something in his bones, his smile slipping into something less practiced without his knowledge or permission.
“Gods, no,” the bear replied, holding up the wood to show how easily it would fit in his palm. “Not unless we’re going to chase down your kin in bat form.” It was Astarion’s turn to laugh, the image of the large Halsin chasing after his master as a tiny vampire bat with his hand-carved toothpick delighting him. Gesturing to the space beside him with his carving knife, Halsin invited, “come, join me if you are not busy. I’d be happy to keep your company a while longer.” 
Astarion couldn’t say why he sat down beside him, or even what they wound up talking about until Halsin left to join the rest of the omnivores in camp for supper. The sun had shifted across the sky without his noticing for the first time since he’d been able to see it again, the passage of time seeming to rush by. This, too, was a new experience. For nearly two centuries, Astarion had felt time trickle past him like molasses. His existence was pain, isolation, and forced servitude, and anything beyond that had been a rouse. Time passing quickly would have been a blessing any moment of his life except for today. Today, when he allowed himself for a moment to believe in the sweetness of another, the world moved faster around him than it ever had before. Typical. 
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seasidefallenangel · 5 months
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everything i wanted
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notes: anne faulkner x afab reader, implied gender dysphoria + self deprecation
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“You’ve been out here for a while.” You don’t bother turning around, knowing that Anne can already suspect something is up. The celebration of BAE’s win carries on inside the penthouse as the muffled music echoes outside on the balcony where you two are. You should humor your partner with some sort of response, maybe a joke, but can’t find it within your brain to even digest their words. The acid in your stomach claws its way up your throat as they sit next to you while you’re staring aimlessly into the night sky.
“What’s on your mind, honey?” Their voice asks, quieter than when they first came outside. As much as you love their voice, tonight it reverberates through your skull and becomes dangerously close to giving you a headache. It fills you with guilt - because you’ve been keeping something from the person who you can trust the most, who would understand this situation more than anyone. 
It started when VISTY had shown up after being invited by Anne themselves. The four of them had been relatively vocal about their admiration for BAE, the most prominent being Aoi’s adoration towards Anne. The two of them had spent what seemed like forever talking, with Aoi saying that Anne had inspired them to be their true self. Anne had nearly gotten teary-eyed at being such an inspirational role model for the teen and proceeded to nearly smother Aoi to death in a hug afterward. Something about it made you sick and you had silently dismissed yourself from the situation.
Which led to now.
Perceptive as ever, Anne begins to speak once more, “There’s nothing to be jealous of. Aoi is way too young for me - it was more of a sibling thing.” 
Your head quickly turns to them as you wave your hands to deny the accusation. It wasn’t a romantic thing ; Anne is loyal to a fault and there’s no chance you’d ever suspect them having feelings for Aoi other than purely platonic. 
“God, no. I didn’t even think of that. It’s more cute than anything else. Aoi’s a sweetheart,” you defend and sigh out after. “It’s moreso…” 
You trail off with a sinking feeling in your heart. Half the issue stems from the fact that you don’t even understand why your brain is in such turmoil to begin with. Your nails dig against the fabric of your pants and for a moment you swear you can feel blood bubbling from underneath them. Even with the hoarseness in your voice, you manage to say something else to Anne.
“... How did you know when you weren’t a boy?” You can see the way Anne stiffens from the corner of your eye and there’s a moment where you’re scared that you’ve fucked everything up again. Something in the air feels rancid and you have half a mind to just bolt from the balcony, but your fears are softened ever so slightly when Anne answers your question. 
“I sort of always knew - in my heart at least,” they say solemnly, looking out up at the moon shining. “I liked things I shouldn’t, and disliked the ones I was supposed to love. Every time I saw a girl I assumed I had a crush on her, but I didn’t understand that I wished I looked like her instead.”
Leaning back in their chair, Anne turns to you. “But I didn’t feel like a girl, and I didn’t feel like a boy. I barely even felt human sometimes, and it’s not like my mom helped at all. But I like myself the way I am now, and that’s what matters.” 
They smile softly when you turn your head to meet their gaze, and their hand reaches out to hold your own, squeezing gently. It’s comforting in one way and foreign in another, almost as if you don’t deserve to touch someone like Anne.
“I like you the way you are too,” you murmur with your own smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but you hope it reassures Anne regardless. As expected though, it doesn’t, and they shift ever so closer to you in hopes it’ll bring you comfort. “Why did you wanna know? I don’t mind telling you or anything, but it’s a little random for you to bring it up so suddenly,” they speak slowly. It reminds you of someone trying not to scare off an animal and it seems so fitting. You, something primal and feral, a beast chained down in your heart that you’re trying to suppress to the world in hopes it’ll be satiated on its own instead of ripping apart everything you hold dear.
“Every time I look in a mirror,” you start with a shaky voice, “I see a girl who shouldn’t be there. I hate her for being alive, but she’s so deeply tied to me that I could never let her go.” It’s exactly why you took the mirrors out of your room, and why you rush out of the bathroom after a shower ; so you don’t have to see the painfully female body you’re attached to. Anne nods along next to you, hesitant to say their next words, “... You don’t feel like a girl?” It hurts so badly to hear out loud even though you’ve known it forever. You know Anne is the last person on earth to judge you for something like this so you don’t know why it’s so hard to admit to them.
“I guess, yeah, but it doesn’t work that way. I can’t just stop being a girl, you know? It’s wrong,” you begin to explain, but quickly backtrack when you see the hurt flash across Anne’s eyes and their hand slip out of yours. The implication of your words is horrible and causes you to wince at yet another thing you’ve messed up. Your hand reaches for theirs again, hoping they won’t pull away, “Not you! You and Aoi - I’m happy you guys figured it out and that you have someone who sort of understands, you know? I mean me specifically, I can’t be trans.” “Why?” Anne’s jaw steels as they speak and part of you is terrified that they’ll just leave altogether at your messily squished together sentences. You wouldn’t blame them either, given how this is a core part of their trauma and identity.
“I, well,” there’s a heat on your face now - humiliation, most likely - while you stammer out an answer, “I’m just not allowed to be. I don’t deserve to be.” Confusion overtakes their face and you try to save face once more, “Just like, you’ve been through a lot to figure that out you know? And sometimes I do like a few girly things so maybe it’s just me and I shouldn’t be able to say I’m non-binary if I’m okay with that cause it’s insulting. I’m probably overreacting anyway cause I’m very obviously a girl so -” You’re cut off by Anne’s thumb wiping a tear that’s begun to slide down your cheek, one you didn’t even register being there at all. Their face looks pained, and you’d do anything in the world to never have to see that expression again. All you can offer is a whisper of, “Sorry,” and let the shame course through your body. 
Shaking their head, Anne pulls you into a hug, letting you rest your head on their shoulder while your tears drip onto their skin. You feel pathetic crying over something like this, because was it even that big of a deal? 
“Don’t be sorry, dear,” they hum into your ear, holding you tighter when you choke back a sob, “You’re allowed to feel how you want, and be what you want. There’s no right or wrong when it comes to this sort of thing. You ‘deserve’ what makes you happy. Why would you ever think otherwise?” 
But you don’t have an answer for them. You can’t explain the inherent guilt you have for simply being alive and the need to justify your existence to someone, to anyone who will listen. 
Even so, Anne provides a sense of stability even when it’s hard to grasp your own sense of self. You could know tomorrow, or you could never figure it out, and they would still be there just as they are now to walk by your side - and as long as you had them, surely the rest would come easy.
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very personal piece about my own issues with struggling with my gender for nearly 9 years, and the things i can't explain about it. thank you for reading.
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akirakirxaa · 8 months
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FFXIVWrite Prompt 18: Fish Out Of Water
Rating: T
Word Count: 635
Warnings: None
Summary: Akira made a bargain with Emet-Selch that ended with her joining the Ascians. But despite the fact that no one has made her feel unwelcome, in the hours leading up to her official induction she still feels as if she doesn't belong. [Ascian WoL AU, EmetWoL but only a little]
Master Post
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The dark realm where the Ascians made their home was…comfortable. The darkness was ever present in the air, weighing heavy over everything like a blanket. Akira wandered the halls of endless doors, peeking in a few as she passed. Some refused to open; she assumed those must belong to individuals, their own little sanctuaries. Some opened to show libraries, offices, training halls, just about anything one could need. After a while, the realization settled in that the doors were magically repeating. Satisfied that there was nothing more to see, or at least not while she still was just a ‘guest’ anyway, Akira let her mind wander as she walked the halls aimlessly, just needing to move.
Regardless, Akira still didn’t feel like she belonged here. Every breath said this wasn’t where she was meant to be. No matter how comfortable. No matter how polite the other Ascians had been. No matter that the animosity between her and Emet-Selch had softened into something…else. She felt like a fish pulled from water and commanded to breathe and walk. And, against all odds, she did. She breathed. She walked. But it was all wrong.
“Well, Hero,” she heard a familiar voice from just behind her. “It’s just about time.”
“This is wrong,” she mumbled, knowing it would make no difference. ���I don’t belong here.” But she had made a deal. She wouldn’t go back on it, and he knew that. Emet-Selch moved closer and pulled her against him, draping himself over her in an overly friendly manner she’d long since adjusted to. She didn’t understand it, but his proximity soothed a part of her soul she didn’t recognize.
“That’s just your Mother still hanging on. She never was a graceful loser.” He meant it to be soothing, but it only turned her stomach over. Why had Hydaelyn so thoroughly abandoned her? Hadn’t fought for her at all? Akira was constantly listening, hoping to hear what she should do next, but only silence greeted her, over and over again.
“I don’t know about that,” Akira shrank into herself, shoulders hunching up. He turned her to face him, taking her face in between his clawed hands; ceremonial, he’d called them, when she commented that the robes she’d seen Ascians wear looked so different from the one they had provided her.
“You’ll see,” he insisted. “Once you have your memories and your title, you’ll see you belong as much as any of us.”
Not her memories, of course. Akira knew he was referring to who she used to be. The person he seemed so intent on getting back. And despite the constant assurances that she would still be herself, just more, she couldn’t help but fear that this was an even more permanent end than if she’d just allowed herself to die.
She supposed she would find out shortly. She tried to call on the courage that had served her so well against Primals and Lightwardens alike, but in this unfamiliar realm and minus her usual abilities, she felt exposed. Vulnerable. No matter how much she was told that she would be far stronger than she’d been before. She rested a hand over one of his, and fought against the fear clawing its way up her throat. Emet-Selch pulled her against his chest, holding her close like she was something precious. Something she couldn’t understand, as she’d been repeatedly told.
“Come now, Hero,” he rumbled lowly. “You’ve gone through far worse than this. It’ll be no worse than one of those Echo visions of yours.”
She nodded — it was easier than arguing and there was no changing it now — and let him lead her away, one hand on her lower back. She wasn’t sure if it was out of fondness or to make sure she didn’t try to run.
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Hi! I have been loving your poly fics so far!! They are amazing! Could I also request a poly fic of rooster, hangman and bob/ platonic squad where you are in a toxic (almost abusive if your okay with writing that) relationship and they find out when you are playing dogfight football/just going to the beach? Also could the readers call sign be sunshine? Sorry Ik that’s a lot!! Love your writing tho! Your doing a great job!!
A/N: Hi hun! I would love to write this! I'm assuming you mean in a toxic relationship that isn't the boys. And it isn't a lot, its a really cute idea. I hope this is what you wanted! I'm glad you're enjoying my poly fics! Sorry this is short!
Title: There Is No Rush
Pairing(s): Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Robert 'Bob' Floyd x female! Reader, Platonic! Top Gun gang x reader
Warnings: Manipulation, hitting, just a toxic relationship
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You laughed as you played dogfight football with the gang, you were in shorts and a tank top, running around playing. You were on Bob, Hangman, and Roosters team and laughed as they picked you up, cheering as you won. You had grown extremely close to them over the time you've known them and you're boyfriend wasn't happy. He had grown more controlling and grew to be more physical, you were terrified but you couldn't leave him because you were trapped at the moment. You were looking for any way you could get out without out an issue but were struggling, you knew you no longer loved him as you had fallen in love with Robert, Jake, and Bradley. "C'mon Sunshine! One more round and then we've beat them four for four!" Bob said excitedly. You nodded and began to play again, the game was rough and you all ended up with new bruises by the end of it.
Just as you won for the last time, a voice ripped through the laughter "Y/N M/N L/N! What the hell are you doing!?" your boyfriend screamed, all of your friends turned to look at him in shock because who the hell thought they could talk to Sunshine? You checked your watch and your stomach dropped, you were supposed to be home two hours ago, "I'm sorry babe! I lost track of-" "Don't you dare say you lost track of time, you made me put my stuff away and drag my ass down here?" he hissed, making you look down in guilt, "LOOK AT ME!" He yelled before hitting you across the face so hard you fell to the ground.
Everyone jumped into action, starting yell while Penny was calling the cops. You got up in time to see Bob deck your boyfriend so hard across the face that he fell over.. A part of you felt satisified watching someone bigger then him take him down a notch finally, and by the sweetest man around. Your boyfriend cried out and then got up "F*ck you L/N! We're done, you're surrounded by crazies!" he yelled in fear as Rooster went to attack him, Maverick was calming them down so none of them went to jail. All of your friends stayed aound you protectiviely until the police arrived to collect the statments needed.
Once everything was over, you accepted the cold beer Phoenix handed you and put it on your cheek. As soon as it touched your cheek, everyone was fussing over you but none more then Bob, Rooster, and Hangman. They told you they would be going with them to get your stuff and then you would be moving in with them because "Our best friend does not get treated that way!" and you felt the love from them just from that statement. Everyone eventually asked you how bad it was and you explained that you were trying to get out but you didn't know how.
Hours later when it was just the four of you, Hangman slipped up and said they were in love with you and would never treat you that way. You knew you loved them but needed time to heal first, they promised you that space and happily gave it to you for as long as you needed. There was no rush.
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trashyswitch · 7 months
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Day 26: Counting
You as the [Player], go stargazing with Penny for a while. Unfortunately, you don't seem to be paying much attention to Penny and her infodumping on constellations. And of course...Penny's gonna have to change that!
This one is on time! Success! Hope you enjoy!
[Player] and Penny were sitting outside her mom’s trailer, checking out the stars in the sky. It was a really nice night out, with almost zero clouds in the sky. Not only that, but it was warm out considering the time of night it was. This made it the perfect night to go stargazing. Maru had let [Player] borrow the telescope, so they could stargaze further. [Player] was looking at the stars through the telescope, happy to see the half-lit moon outside with its craters and darker holes. 
Meanwhile, Penny was looking at the sky with her naked eye, just happy to be looking and mapping out the constellations. “That one in the middle is Orion. It roughly…” Penny looked up at the sky, and mapped the stars on her notebook. Afterwards, she joined the dots together to make the constellation. “-Looks like that.” She said to herself. She looked beside the Orion, to find more constellations that were supposed to be there. She pulled out her map of the Star chart of the Southern Hemisphere in the summer, and looked at the map with a flashlight. 
You observed the other parts of the sky, looking at the stars that were somewhat visible where you were. 
“Are you done looking in the telescope?” She asked super close to your ear. 
You smile a bit and shake your head. “Nope. Not yet.” You tell her. 
“What’s so interesting up there?” She asked you. “Everything…” You admit. 
“I see…” She replied. You could hear her footsteps move away from you as you observed some brighter clusters of stars in the sky. You began to assume that she sat herself down and resumed her charting of the stars. You felt like you could look at the universe forever…
But everything pauses the moment you feel a pair of hands squeezing your sides. You pull yourself away and grab your sides, surprised by the squeezes. “BAHAhAhaha!” You cackle, shaking your head. 
“I said…are you done yet?” you hear Penny tease as she pokes your squishy sides. You feel yourself doubling over more as you attempt to get Penny to let go or stop tickling you. The touches felt familiar, but foreign all at once. You hadn’t really been tickled in a long while, so the feeling was a little hard to get used to. 
“Ihi- Ihihi guehehess.” You reply, not fully wanting to appease her quite yet. “Oh? Just ‘I guess’?” She teased back, squeezing your sides a few more times. “I wonder if you’ve been listening to me for the past while…” She wondered aloud. “Let’s do a little test. I want you to tell me if you remember how many constellations I mentioned to you. And if we have time…” You felt her lean closer into your ear. “You can tell me what constellations those were.” She told you. 
You giggled and loosely covered your mouth. “Yohohohou mehentioned ohorion!” You tell her. 
“Well yeah, that’s one. But I mentioned other constellations earlier.” She reminded you. “But that’s not the first question I asked you, now is it?” She teased in your ear. Ooooh my gosh Penny is being SO MEAN! How are you supposed to remember how many constellations she said?! There are so many constellations, you can’t even remember what half of them are called, let alone how many she mentioned! 
“Ihihihi dohohon’t knohohow!” You tell her. 
“Well [Player]...I’ll give you a little hint:” She told you. “It’s a number between 1 and 20.” She told you. W-What?! That’s such a large range! There’s no way she talked about 20 constellations in an hour! There’s no way!
…Right? 
You try to pull every number out of your ass. “Uhuhuhuh…fihive?” You guess. She made a button buzzing sound. “Wrong.” She said, before going for your belly. 
You squeak and cackle right away. Your belly is one of your worst spots that only your close family and your grandfather knew about! So the fact that she had found it so quickly, spoke volumes as to how wise and clever she is. 
“Awww, what’s wrong, [Player]?” She teased. “Did I find a special sweet spot on you?” She asked. 
You shake your head, hoping she stops sometime soon. But, you quickly realize you may have just answered her with a lie. 
You hear her gasp. “Did you just lie to me?!” She asked you. 
“Mahahahaybehe?” You reply. 
“I’m gonna make you regret that.” She warned you. “But first…Do you have another guess for me?” She asked. 
You think for a moment. What if she was referring to the double digits?! You quickly spout a number. “Twehehehelve?!” You guess. 
“Getting a little closer, but not quite.” She replied. 
You squeak as you feel her fingers going up the ribs to your armpits. “WAHAHAIT- BAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!” You scream, almost falling onto the ground. Though this wasn’t the worst spot on your person, it was still bad enough! You feel as your body instinctively squeezes her fingers into your armpits. But your arms weren’t the only body part you couldn’t control…You quickly find that you can't really control any of your movements anymore. All of your movements from here on out were completely instinctual. Even your words are growing uncontrollable! “PEHEHENNYHYHYHYHYYYY! P-PLEHEHEHEheheheeheeheease!” You plead helplessly. 
“Poor, poor [Player]. So ticklish, yet nowhere to flee. Whatever will you do?” She asked you in her playful little voice. 
“IHIHI’LL GEHEHET YOHOHOU BAHAHACK!” You yell back. “How about you focus on answering one of my questions…Then we’ll discuss plans for revenge.” Penny offered. 
I…What?! Did she just…invite you to discuss her own demise after your guesses?! That’s…a little unusual…but I mean…no complaints here. Maybe the discussions will show you her flustered, bashful side. 
For now, you decide to guess again. “Uhuhuhuhuh…seventeeheheheeen?” You ask. 
“Oooooh! So close! I’ll give it to you.” She said. “It was 16.” She told you. You start to take in heaps of breath the moment you feel her stop her fingers. Though, you could feel your lungs still filling with giggles every time you let a breath out. So most of the time, your breath comes out in breathless giggles instead. 
“Can you remember what a couple of them were?” She asked you. 
You widen your eyes as you draw a blank. Uh oh…All you remember is Orion! 
“Name 5, and I may be merciful~.” She teased you, leaning in closer to your face. 
You think as much as you can. The only one you can remember is Orion. But…what were the other ones she mentioned?! Think [Player], think! five out of seventeen constellations isn’t all that bad, right?! Surely you can name 4 more constellations. 
“Gemini?” You ask hesitantly, letting your body take over. 
She smiles brightly and puts up two fingers. “That’s two! Three more.” She said. 
You smile a bit as you think a bit more. What’s another one? Ursa Major? No…That one doesn’t come out this time a year. And Ursa Major is technically in the Northern hemisphere, right? You’re not entirely sure if you’re correct or not. So, you go for another zodiac sign you can remember from chatting to Emily. “Phoenix?” You guess next. 
“Nope…Try again.” She replied. 
Damn…You thought you remembered her mentioning a constellation that started with a P. But your mind is completely blank! 
Wait…You remember one of the zodiacs. “T-Taurus?” You ask. 
“That’s correct! Two more to go.” She replied. 
You sigh with relief. That was another one down. Success! You think for a bit longer in an attempt to win her game. You go back to your knowledge on zodiacs, as that seems to be giving you more success than expected. “Hmm…Oh! Pisces!” You say aloud, the P constellation suddenly revealing itself in your head. 
“Indeed! One more!” She declared. “And can you try guessing something that’s not a zodiac?” She asked with a smirk. 
You widen your eyes. Damn…she knows your secret to success…You were hoping to impress her with your knowledge on the constellations. But the only thing you showed you were knowledgeable on…was guessing the zodiac signs. And while you’re not wrong, you now have to choose something lesser-known. 
You flip through your brain before pleading to yourself that this is a good guess. “Hercules?” You ask. 
She laughs. “Not quite. Hercules appears in the winter.” She told you. 
Dammit…This is tough. You try to wrack your brain for something…anything! You try to remember her words…or at least, her mumbles. 
You remember there being a constellation named after an animal? She mentioned something about it being cat-like. Your mind races as it remembers what animals look like cats in the animal kingdom. Panther, lion, tiger, leopard, lynx, jaguar, ocelet- Wait…One of the L cats rang a bell. 
“Leop-Waitno! Lynx!” You reply. 
She smiled brightly and put out her thumb, before giving you a big hug. “You got them all!” She reacted. You hug her back, appreciating her patience and comforting touch. “Congratulations, [Player]!” She said. 
You close your eyes for a moment as you two hug. “As a gift, you get to look at the telescope.” You tell her. 
Penny giggles and gently moves you out of the way to look through the telescope. “Let’s see what’s up there.” She said as she peeked her left eye into the telescope. “Wow…” She muttered. You immediately sensed her enthusiasm. “The moon is so crisp and clear through this telescope!” She reacted. “I gotta ask Maru where she got it.” She admitted aloud. 
You smile at her before looking at the notebook that was laying in the grass. You look at the different pages of charted stars, getting an idea of what she had said earlier. You start to remember the words as you read them. Sextans, Canis Major, Lepus, Leo Minor- Aw man…you could’ve shortened the word ‘leopard’ to Leo! And that would’ve worked as your last guess!
Oh well. What’s done is done. You won, and now it’s time to plan your eventual revenge on Penny. 
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fandomxpreferences · 2 years
Text
Good In Goodbye
TW: angst (kind of?) please let me know if I missed any
Based off Carrie Underwoods “Good in Goodbye”
Summary: You see Jake on the street years after he broke your heart. He looks happy, and you realize sometimes in order to get where you’re supposed to be you have to let go of what you thought you deserved.
Pairing: Hangman x female!reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Heard you laughing
In a crowd outside a restaurant we used to go to
I caught glimpse that stopped me in my tracks
It took me back
You looked happy
With that little girl up on your shoulders, happy
You were walking down the street in Texas when you heard a laugh that you’d recognize anywhere and it made you stop dead in the center of the sidewalk. You scanned the group of people talking outside one of your old favorite restaurants when you caught sight of him. You raked your eyes over him slowly, noticing all the ways he’d changed since you last saw him all those years ago. Time and the navy had been kind to him. His blonde hair was perfectly styled and grown out from the buzz cut he had after bootcamp and his eyes were bright. He had bulked up substantially and his skin glowed with a golden tan. He looked like a sun kissed model. However, the biggest difference made your chest involuntarily tighten for a split second. There was a woman standing beside him and a little girl on his shoulders laughing. She had his eyes, and you couldn’t help but notice she got his infectious smile too. She was the spitting image of him. He looked happy. 
As bad as it was
As bad as it hurts
I thank God I didn't get what I thought that I deserved
Sometimes life leads down a different road
When you're holding on to someone that you gotta let go
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You thought back to the last night you saw Jake. You had both been so young then. You wanted to get married and follow Jake around the world. You met in college and while you had your own ambitions, you loved the man In front of you so much you were willing to postpone them to be with him. Jake had other ideas. 
“What are you saying Jake? You don’t want to be with me? After everything we’ve been through?” You choked out between sobs. He had just told you he thought you guys should take a step back after getting his first assignment and you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Did he not love you as much as you love him? Did he ever?
“Its not that I don’t want to be with you darlin’, it's that I can’t. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us and its not fair for you to put your life on hold always waiting on me. It's not fair to us. I can’t give you what you want right now, and I don’t know that i'll ever be able to.” He reached out to comfort you and you recoiled as if you’d been burned. 3 years gone, just like that. It's not like either of you had been ignorant to what life would be like once he finished school and enlisted. You had just assumed it was something both of you were willing to work through. You had thought it was worth it. That he was worth it. Apparently you assumed wrong.  You took a second to really look at him. He looked like he was in agony. Like it was shredding him to pieces to do this. You hoped it was. “Well,” you dropped your eyes and stood to start packing what little you had at his place “I guess this is goodbye.” You wanted him to stop your frantic hands that were shoving everything into a bag and beg you to stay. To tell you he was sorry, that he didn’t mean it and that you’d figure it out. But he didn’t. You grabbed your keys and turned to look at the man you had seen your whole future with one last time. He kept his eyes on the ground as you turned on your heel and slammed the door before peeling out of his driveway. 
That was the last time you had seen Jake Seresin. 
I don't regret it
The time we had together
I won't forget it
But we both ended up where we belong
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It would be easy to look at the woman standing where you once were and be bitter. Bitter that he was able to give her everything you were told you couldn’t have with him. But as you thought back on your time together, you couldn’t help but feel happy. Maybe you hadn’t gotten the happy ending you wanted with Jake, but the memories had always held a special place in your heart. 
Jake had drug you out to a bar in Texas. You were both home on break. The loud music filled your ears as you took a sip of your drink and looked at the dance floor. You had never been much of a social butterfly, let alone a dancer, but Jake always made you see life in a lighter way. You shifted your gaze to the man now standing in front of you as he grabbed your hand. “Lets go line dance, darlin’.” You blushed at the pet name as he smiled down at you. “ You know I don’t dance, Jake. I can’t keep up with all the different moves.” You tried to reason you’re way out of it but he was having none of it. You knew you weren’t getting out of this, but he was gonna have to work for it. You hadn’t anticipated that he would pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. “Jake, put me down!” You cackled as you hit him on his back. People were staring but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as the blonde man threw his head back laughing and tapped you on your ass. “No can do cowgirl. If you’re gonna come to a bar in Texas, you’re gonna do it right.” Jake always was the life of the party and his energy was magnetic. You reached up as he set you back on your feet and plucked the cowboy hat off his head, placing it on your own. He looked down at you and you quirked an eyebrow up challenging him. “You know what the rule is sweetheart, ” He had a sweet tone to his voice but you could see the mischief in his eyes and you cracked a smile. “ Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” You put your hands on your hips as you peered into his green eyes through your lashes and feigned innocence. “Why do you think I put it on?” You barely had time to finish your sentence before he was hauling you back over his shoulder and carrying you out of the bar. You laughed as you heard the cheers and encouragement from your friends. He plopped you in the passenger seat of his truck and buckled your seatbelt before walking around and climbing in the drivers side. “You’re keeping that on.” That had been one of the best nights of your life. 
You smiled to yourself as you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, bringing you back to reality. 
I guess goodbye made us strong
And yeah I'm happy
I found somebody too, who makes me happy
You looked up at your husband as he peered at you with concern written on his features. “Are you okay? Why’d you stop?” He grinned at you but his brows were furrowed in confusion. You glanced at Jake one last time before lacing your fingers through your husbands. “Im great,” You said as you returned his smile. And to your surprise, you meant it. All those Years ago you thought that ever seeing Jake again would bring you to your knees. But you were both where you belonged and happy. “Just thought I saw someone I knew. We can go now.”  He pulled you into his side and kissed your temple as you started walking again. Away from the man you once saw as your whole world. 
Someday you'll see the reason why
Yeah sometimes, yeah sometimes
There's good in goodbye
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steviesbicrisis · 1 year
Note
"if we don't like it, we make it gay" that isn't the point, though. so many other people have said this more eloquently than i can, but you can't claim "death to the author" when the author is alive and actively lobbying for the genocide of trans people in the uk and influencing (and funding, iirc) republican politicians in the states to do the same thing. if you say "fuck terfs" but then continue to engage with the franchise and ignore the multitudes of jewish and lgbt+ people telling you the reasons why you shouldn't, the reasons why this franchise is literally killing us, your trans and jewish friends/followers are going to be cautious of you. *i'm* cautious of you, now. you're not only supporting a terf by giving her engagement, but jkr is a fascist. i can't assume your response to this, and this isn't sent out of malice, but i hope you can ask yourself if a book series and nostalgia are more important than the real people being affected by the political career of its creator.
I'm going to answer this as best as possible, but please be mindful that English isn't my first language, so I might not be as eloquent or exhaustive as I could've been in my native language.
Leaving this premise aside, I say this with no malice nor desire to sound bitter/defensive: please take a step back and stop assuming stuff about me.
I don't even know where half of the things you said come from, I genuinely thought you sent this ask to the wrong person until I read the "fuck terfs" part.
"continue to engage with the franchise" how am I doing this? I have 1 word associated with it, that's it. Do you see me promoting the books or the movies? do I reblog stuff about the franchise? Do I go around showing anything related to this? I've stopped giving money to that author the moment I found out what she stands for. I have one post related to the franchise before I knew how big of a deal it was to make fan-related content (I thought it was okay to still go on with stuff she doesn't get money from), which I decided to not continue writing it the moment I understood it might've been hurtful to someone.
You also assume I don't listen to fellow friends/followers. The thing is, you don't know me, this is Tumblr, I do not show everything about me in my blog. I have lgbtq sources I go to inform myself on how to approach topics that interest the community but not me personally because I wanna be supportive. You also have to understand that I get my information mainly from Italian resources and the approach on the topic might be different. This is not me speaking for the Italian trans community, obviously, but they seem to not really care if you engage with fanmade content, while I see in the "internet world" trans creators who don't accept fanmade as well and some do. I simply don't know where I stand but in the meantime, I'm not engaging even with fanmade stuff just to be safe.
All of this to say, I have no problem admitting that I don't know what I should do about fan-made related content because I tried to understand but with the mixed up opinions I simply don't know. Me not knowing translates to me engaging with any content until I understand better.
I'm trying really hard to not see malice in your words to be honest, since you've been assuming so much stuff about me. Everything else you touched upon it doesn't apply to me (like having nostalgia about the books, I never once said anything like that).
All of this being said, I am sorry to know that people are cautious about me. I hope you can understand that this blog is supposed to be a happy place to talk about Stranger Things and have a nice break from chaotic everyday life and I'm really saddened to know that it isn't as lighthearted as I thought.
To the people who were disappointed/had hard feelings after reading my bio, I am sorry. I mean it, I would never write something anywhere with the intention of hurting everyone.
To anyone who reads this, I hope you don't see me in a bad light after what this anon wrote and my response, I'm trying to handle this situation the best I can and be mindful of everyone's feelings. I am far from perfect but I am trying.
(I'm leaving the bio as it is if people wanna check it out after reading this but I'm going to change it after a little while.)
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agirlunderarock · 2 years
Text
I'm having so many thoughts about Reva tonight
And like
Knowing that this is the last episode I have BIG FEAR. I have so much that I want for this character, and this fandom has been nothing but horrible to her.
I'm going to explain under the cut though because MASSIVE SPOILERS for the Obi-Wan series and maybe even a prediction of what the will happen next. Read at your own risk
Okay so I just wan to say Reva has gone from a character that really just intrigued me to one of my absolute favorite characters over the course of the Obi-Wan series. This is going to take awhile for me to get the main point of where I want Reva's story to go, but just bare with me. Its been so frustrating watching this fandom trash Reva, and/or be overly critical of her character at every turn and I'm going to take some time to address that to set up what I hope happens for her in this last episode.
If episode five was about Anakin still being a padawan, because he's impulsive and impatient and only focused on Obi-Wan- the same can be said for a good portion of the audience. Patience People it takes time to tell a story. We were two episodes in and people were throwing fits online because Reva knew who Vader really was. THE SHOW LITERALLY TOLD US WHO SHE WAS IN THE FIRST MINUTE.
From the first two episodes I had Reva's character locked down. The writers and editors told us everything we needed to know about her in those first two episodes. Opening with Order 66 and it having to do with the children, was not without reason. Thats the director's way of saying, "Hey remember this HUGE THING that happened? You need to remember these children, you need to remember this scene its going to be important to the story." Like that scene should have been in the back of your mind every time Reva or any of the inquisitors came on screen, any time there was an unfamiliar jedi, that should have been the first scene to pop up in the back of your mind. Every scene has a purpose.
So we have that first connection right? We have the scene with the kids during 66, and the next scene is the Grand Inquisitor and Reva at the little saloon right? That should tell you- there is a connection there!
But thats just our first connection to who Reva is, right? The next thing is motivation, for which some people were saying its very weak. HERES THE THING YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TRY TO FIGURE IT OUT.
I don't know what show everyone else was watching, but not once, NOT ONCE, does Reva mention killing Obi-Wan. She wants to "Catch" him. She wants to draw him out. In those first two episodes, none of her orders include killing him, or even harming him. Its about catching him. Are we supposed to know why she wants to catch him? No. We don't need to know yet, but we're meant to question why she's obsessed with him, why its important that she's the one to capture him when the other inquisitors have already given up any chance of finding him. They do not care or want to bother with him. We're meant to question why. I mean after all we can assume hat Vader wouldn't be opposed to any and all efforts to flush him out. He knows he's alive but everyone else is so dismissive and is frustrated with Reva for the actions she takes.
Theres a lot to say about the attitude the other inquisitors and how they treat Reva and the how writing choices made there have some really uncomfortable and upsetting real world issues. That in itself is a whole other post- but the long story short of that, is that the production/writing team could have made some changes to handle it better. The way that I've been watching and understanding Reva's interactions with the other Inquisitors- since the end of episode two- has a lot to do with the conditioning and torture they went through to get to this point. In other words I'm just trying to answer the question of why they might be that frustrated with her, and how the fact that majority of them where either former jedi/padawans/younglings at the temple. For a while when watching E1-2, I thought it was because she wanted Vader's favor. That delivering Obi-Wan to Vader would earn her some kind of recognition from Vader. It sat weird with me and I couldn't explain why until Disney revealed some of the character posters specifically this one.
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For the most part all the characters have one of two images in their line of sight. Either Vader or Obi-Wan. Its meant to symbolize their goals or motivations or some key aspect of their charcter development. Obi-Wan has Vader, Vader has Obi-Wan, the Grand inquisitor had Obi-wan- if Reva's main goal was to serve along side Vader, it would seem like Obi-Wan should be her main goal. He's not. She wants to catch him. Thats it. So my guess was then that left me with two guesses- she's trying to gain praise from Vader, or she's trying to draw him in to something. If Vader is where her goal lies, then Obi-Wan is just a means to an end, right? Obi-Wan was never the goal, he was a means to an end, Vader's end. By the end of E3 my guess had been that she would capture Obi-Wan and use him to fight Vader. How many people would be strong enough or smart enough to kill Vader- only the man who trained him. And again that begs the question of how did Reva know who Vader was. At this point you can assume one two things. One that she either managed to see recording Obi-Wan and Yoda saw of Anakin being knighted as Vader, or she was there when he attacked the temple. Think about it, Obi-Wan was a Master on the Council, all of the jedi had to know him or at least visually be able to recognize him. It stands to reason that they would have also known Anakin since they're literally always together. Any of the former jedi, would see this man who was so passionate about being a jedi, a well loved jedi, turning on his people and cutting them down without remorse. E5 confirms this with Reva's story, which was the main reason e5 was personally satisfying for me but whatever. Anyways, that answers a motive and how she knows- but it doesn't explain why the other inquisitors react the way they do to her. My guess is that the other inquisitors could sorta sense that she wasn't fully with them. Its not a "snuff out the light" sorta thing. Its a "I did everything I had to in order to survive, and you're going to jeopardize it" kinda thing. Like I almost feel like Obi-Wan still being out there and surviving is something of a buffer between Vader and the inquisitors. It means Vader has a big goal and will leave them out of it somewhat if he feels he can do a better job. Vader also acts as a buffer between the inquisitors and Palpatine- and if any of the inquisitors feel Reva is going to threaten that, then they're going to keep telling her to stand down. At least the way they're framed in the Kenobi show- the inquisitors don't seem so ambitious, they seem content to just do what they have to in order to get by and survive, fear of dying or worse is what gets them moving. But not Reva, for her its revenge. I'm not a huge fan of the dynamic if thats what they're going for, but it makes sense. I was going to say I feel like they could have made it more explicit, but Reva killing the Grand Inquisitor kinda says that she doesn't give a fuck about them. Even in Rebels the inquisitors have a very "every person for themselves" energy. I think it would have been beneficial to show more competition between them or something. Something so it doesn't single out Reva.
I wanted to get this out sooner but life happened and some of you are already watching the episode. That being said I have not seen the last episode as of yet, I have another hour before it drops.
My sincere hope is that in this last episode, Reva is allowed the chance to leave the Empire. I DO NOT want her do die or "redeem" herself by dying. Star wars has a nasty habit of making characters die in order to be "redeemed." They're not being redeemed, they're atoning for their actions. That's not the same as actively having to face the people you've harmed and working to make things right. You know who did get that chance? Kallus. Kallus is the only antagonist in watchable sw media to actively have to face the people he harmed and have to earn their forgiveness. His story with Zeb isn't perfect, I would have liked to have seen more, but it was a step in the right direction.
I want Reva to have that chance. I want Reva to go to Owen's farm and be about to threaten Luke and see the same frightened face she had when she was a child. I want her to see that and walk away from the Empire and the Inquisitors and start helping get children to safety using the Path. I want her to struggle to find people to trust her, people who know what she was a part of, and people who want to give her a chance, people who felt the same pain she did and chose kindness instead of revenge. I want her to have the chance to tell an amazing story in star wars, one we haven't seen yet, one that doesn't end with her dying before she's found a new family for herself.
I don't know whats going to happen I have 30 minutes still, but I hope above everything that this story does not end with her dying
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devilfic · 2 years
Text
❝where two are joined, relentlessly❞
VIII. happy birthday, mr. wayne.
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parts: previously / next plot: celebrating the birthday boy is hard when he doesn’t want to be celebrated. baby steps. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: romance, humor, tooth-rotting fluff, domesticity, bruce wayne is a taurus agenda. words: 4.7k.
a/n: I’ve proofread this once and I think I caught everything. lord help me if I haven’t
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May, last year.
The lack of ornamentation should have been your first and biggest clue as to where Bruce Wayne might be today, though you still ask, “Where’s the birthday boy?”
You’d expected the penthouse to be wrought with decorations the minute you arrived, baubles and flowers and desserts being set up around the house for the occasion. Alfred, of course, hadn’t warned you of any such plans before you left work yesterday. You’d just... assumed. 
Dressed in his usual attire (not even donning a chocolate covered apron!), Alfred laughs for barely a second, “Hiding away from people who call him ‘the birthday boy’. And what in the world have you got in your hands?”
You roll the piece of ceramic in between your hands with concern, more aware of the lopsided handle than before. You’d worked the thing into the best mug shape your novice hands could manage, carved a “W” on both sides, painted it black and gold, and hoped for the best, “It’s... a mug. Bruce’s present.”
When Alfred comes closer to give it a look, you nearly shy away with it. You’d hoped that if there was going to be a party, no matter how small, your gift wouldn’t draw too much attention to itself, but seeing as there would be no party, every mistake in the cup felt painfully obvious. Alfred takes it from you anyway, examining it with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose. You wait with bated breath for the verdict.
Holding up your mug to the light, Alfred nods once, approving, “I’m sure Master Bruce will love it. I’ll make sure to relay his gratitude tomorrow morning.”
You watch Alfred make off with your mug for all of five seconds before you start skittering after him, looking around for any sign of the billionaire in question. The house is just as quiet as it always is when you arrive bright and early, and while it had been made clear to you that you’d rarely ever see Bruce while the sun still shined, you’d been lucky every once in a while. A dark figure hurrying from the kitchen to the stairs here, the noise of someone coming up the elevator on the second floor there. You’d been told that particular elevator was off limits before, its destination meant to stay a secret between the inhabitants of the tower, and you wondered if he was down there this very moment.
“Wait, tomorrow? Will he not be here today?”
“No, I’m afraid not. He’ll be busy with work elsewhere.”
“He didn’t take the day off? It’s his birthday.”
“He hasn’t for a while,” you think the butler sounds disheartened about that, “it’s just another day of the year. Same with holidays. It’s really nothing to fret about. Master Bruce finds more enjoyment in his work than he would throwing a big, unnecessary fuss. Trust me.”
You suppose you have no right to be sad about that. Everyone was different, after all. It was like any other holiday. It wasn’t unusual for some not to celebrate Christmas, or Thanksgiving, or the Fourth of July. “For a while” just left you wondering when he’d finally decided to stop. You could come up with a million reasons why if left to your own devices.
Instead, you roll with it in spite of your disappointment, “Well, I would’ve really liked to give it to him in person, but I understand. Not a total loss.” 
Alfred hesitates setting your mug down on the breakfast table then. The butler casts a scheming side-glance at you, “...If your heart is that set on it, he will be here tomorrow.” When you perk up, Alfred pivots away from the table, placing your mug back into your hands. “Stay late enough and you’ll catch him. Might even be in a better mood.”
The idea is genius. You thank Alfred and put the mug into your bag, careful not to crush it. Maybe you’d get him a card on the way home too. Something to make up for the mortification of your mug being perceived.
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Your drive to the convenience store around the corner is a short one, and you quickly head inside to grab a few of the only warm, “fresh” foods they offer and a birthday card from the funny section (something silly, something that won’t end with your prompt termination). You spend such an unnecessary amount of time next to the greeting cards that an employee eventually flags you down to figure out if you need any help.
It isn’t long after that you find you’re not quite ready to go home yet.
There isn’t much waiting for you there, anyway. Due to constant complications, your mother was back to an extended stay at Gotham General, leaving you alone in the apartment. You never enjoyed being alone there while she worked late, but you enjoyed it even less when she couldn’t return at all. Everything was louder in that tiny apartment without her presence to fill it up. You can’t return to the tower, though, no matter how badly you’d like to be sharing stories with Alfred over tea right now.
You consider Robinson Park, though the later hour warns of danger you could do with avoiding. Next, you consider the public library, but it wouldn’t be open much longer. You didn’t often yearn for the simple safety of other cities, but if you could post up on a street corner and be unbothered, you’d jump at the chance. 
While in the midst of your contemplation, you follow the road, succumbing to muscle memory. You hadn’t gone this way in years, yet the twists and turns of the city come back to you like second nature, a guiding light in the gritty darkness until you’re pulling up to a building you hadn’t visited since college graduation.
Once upon a time, when you were still a teenager looking for places to get away from it all, your friend would invite you to the rooftop of her apartment building to watch cars pass by. She’d officially moved from Gotham after college for the west coast, but you’d never forgotten that the door to the rooftop had a funky hinge. The landlord thought as long as people gave up on the first tug, they’d think the thing was locked and wouldn’t budge it further. You, on the other hand, knew better.
It doesn’t take much. One of the tenants buzzes you in and up the seven flights of stairs you hike. The door comes open as easily as it did the last time you tried years ago.
You’re not very high above the city like this, though the drop from the ledge is no less terrifying to behold and the view no less stunning. Most people in Gotham had grown desensitized to the little things like this. With the rampant crime, finding beauty despite it all was like finding a needle in a haystack. Even for you, with your well of positivity that struggled to run dry, you found it hard to see the beauty in it sometimes.
But there’s beauty even in the ugly parts of the city. For as much violence that bled through the streets, there was just as much humanity that walked them. Families, lovers, people just like you. You couldn’t hate Gotham when you could see that humanity, not really. 
You take in lungfuls of air, sweeping your gaze from the graffitied bridge a few blocks down to the inner city skyline, and from the inner city to-
It’s a bit like making eye contact with a stray cat. 
You’d seen him on TV, sometimes in copies of the Gotham Gazette at newsstands, but never in person. He was a bit like a child’s tale, a playground legend: your friend’s cousin’s girlfriend would see him, perhaps saved by him if the storyteller was really bold, and you’d go around telling everyone who’d listen that you’d seen the Batman too.
No one could keep the story straight when asked too many questions, but that was the excitement of Gotham’s very own, living boogeyman. One would simply hope to never see him for the wrong reasons. You hoped you weren’t seeing him for the wrong reason.
He’s perched on the ledge only a feet away from you, hard to make out against the dark night sky if you aren’t paying attention. When you put together that you are looking at a face and not some vague, black shape, you freeze up and wait to see if he’ll make the first move. If he thought you were a threat, you’d be taken care of by now... right?
You both hold each other’s gaze for a few minutes, both perhaps waiting for the other to run first. Neither of you ever do.
“I’m sorry,” is the first thing that comes to mind, though you aren’t sure why. It was as much his rooftop as it was yours, “I didn’t know anyone was up here.”
The Batman is too far away for you to make out what he’s thinking by his eyes alone, though you get the feeling that he’s not sure how to respond. He wasn’t alone in that. 
What were you even supposed to say? Or do? All those stories were action-packed with nary a dull moment to breathe. None of them could have prepared you for his eerie stillness. When meeting the Batman in a friend’s cousin’s girlfriend’s fantasy, he’s usually a lot more animated.
Leaving him alone and going home sounds like the next best course of action for you. Of course, you do the opposite, “Are you busy?”
“No.”
You shift back at the sound of his voice, feeling more out of place by the second. You knew this rooftop by every square inch, and yet you might as well have never stepped foot in this city at all when standing in his presence. 
You clutch your bag to your side tighter. “Do you... need me to leave?”
The Batman pauses then, never looking away from you, “No.”
Was he... giving you permission? Perhaps he was the one who’d leave, leaping away into the night to find another perch to do whatever it was vigilantes did in this city. The thought that he’d leave so soon left you oddly disappointed.
But he doesn’t move. Save for turning to watch the city, the Batman pays you very little mind. You fail at the same task even as you fish out Bruce’s birthday card, hoping to distract yourself with writing your appropriately heartfelt message, body rigid and fingers struggling to loosen enough to hold your pen. No words come out of you when your heart beats out of tune. You don’t know how to be normal when he’s so close by.
You’d come up here to be alone, but had he?
Your pen hovers over the blank inside of the card, ink tip drying in the wind, but no words are coming to you with your mind a stone’s throw away from you. 
It’s not clear that he’s side-eyeing you, but you feel like he’s side-eyeing you. Surprisingly, it’s him who breaks the unsteady silence, “Special occasion?”
You have to reel your brain back to your body to answer him. He continues to survey the landscape even though his question is very clearly directed at you, and you wonder at what point during your attempt at appearing unbothered had he looked over at the card in your hands. You’re grateful you’re not under his scrutiny for the time being, “Oh, yeah. It’s a card for my boss. It’s his birthday today.” And then, as if his totally normal silence deemed your explanation unsatisfactory, you continue, “He was working all day today, so I thought I’d give it to him later.”
This time, the Batman turns his head fully toward you. Had you given too much information? Annoyed him, maybe? You make out the small shift of his eyes from your own down to the card in your hand, and you hold it facing him to give him a better look, scooting closer. “And you came up here to write it?”
“Rooftops are peaceful. One of the perks of living in a city like Gotham.” You don’t want to say outright that you don’t belong up here. While you were sure the vigilante had far more pressing matters to handle than harmless breaking and entering, you really don’t want to fuck around and find out. “Is this a usual surveillance point of yours?”
You’re surprised he lets you ask, and even more surprised when he provides an honest answer, “One of them.”
You’d always imagined that the Batman was a shadow, slinking about in the night from empty doorways to streets less travelled by, an all-seeing eye for Gotham. There was a magical aspect to it all, but seeing him here now, tangible, made him appear more man than shadow. He was still shrouded in mystery, but that distance probably kept petty criminals home some nights. Even you had wondered if there’d come a day that all-seeing eye of Gotham would turn to you.
That’s why talking to him now, you could hardly stand to be looked at for too long. Had it not been for the cut of his cowl leaving his very human jaw exposed to you, he might’ve appeared to you more like an omniscient phantom. What did he think when he looked at you? What did he know?
Of course, you know better than to keep going down that road. You were talking to the Batman for Pete’s sake. You could do better than waste an opportunity. “Batman? You said you weren’t busy, right? Can I ask for your opinion on something?”
He stares at you, practically unblinking. You take that as a sign (perhaps not a good one, but a sign nonetheless) to keep going. Putting away your card, you remove Bruce’s present from your bag and present it to the Batman, hands trembling a bit as he inspects it in the city light. His eyes glide up from the mug to you, inquiring.
“I-It’s a mug. I made it. I just... I just wanted a second opinion on it. My... superior said that my boss would love it, but I think he was just trying not to hurt my feelings... but you’re a neutral party. You know?” The more you explain, the more stupid you feel. Who were you, asking the Batman of all people to evaluate your rookie pottery skills? So much for not wasting an opportunity.
But you hope that you’re earnest enough to warrant an answer anyway. If he was truly annoyed with you, he could jump away at a moment’s notice and find another rooftop to survey from. It was his fault he didn’t turn you away earlier when you gave him the chance.
You nearly drop the thing when he reaches for it, cautiously taking the cup into one gloved hand and bringing it closer to his eye. He turns it this way and that, genuine as he looks over every detail. You’re hyperaware of all the blemishes, awaiting a scathing review that would send you back to that pottery class on tomorrow’s lunch break to fix your mess.
Instead of that, the Batman hands it back to you. You hold the mug between both palms awaiting his judgment. “Why make it?”
You blink, “I’m sorry?”
“You could have bought something like this. They sell them a dime a dozen at every gift shop in town.”
Well, you knew that. You’d seen them while perusing the shelves for something he might like. With every option, you’d come back to the same depressing conclusion: “There’s nothing I can buy him that he couldn’t buy better, so I thought I’d make him something he couldn’t find anywhere else. I mean, where else is he gonna find a mug with a lopsided handle and his family’s insignia carved on the side-” 
“Not a lot of families in Gotham with insignias these days.”
Shoot. Was that bad? You couldn’t recall hearing if the Batman had something against the Waynes. You surely hoped not. “...I don’t work for Bruce Wayne if that’s what you’re thinking.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the Batman was... amused by that. “Of course not.” You hug the mug to your chest, worrying the inside of your cheek between your teeth. “He’ll like it. And I can promise you that I don’t care about your feelings.”
You breathe a laugh, and while the Batman doesn’t return it, you can tell he’s pleased you got the joke. 
His head snaps up to the sky a moment later. Following his line of sight, you spot a familiar circle of light piercing through the clouds from further into the city. It wasn’t uncommon to see it light up every once in a while, though its unwavering position in the sky was peculiar; it never swiveled or flashed. Most searchlights were beacons of the nightlife drawing Gotham citizens to every club in the city. This one... well, who knew?
Your companion shifts and leans toward the light. “You should head home. Keep off the streets tonight.”
“Oh, do you have to go?” You start, twisting around to put the mug back in your bag, “Thank you for the...”
When you turn back, all that’s left of the Bat is the rush of air from his departure. You lean over the ledge to see if he’d jumped straight down, but you can’t make out anything besides the usual pedestrians. You shiver. 
Despite never accomplishing your intended task, you follow orders to a T. You push the rooftop door back into place to ward off any ne’er-do-wells and lock your car doors when you get back inside. On the drive back home, your hands jitter around the steering wheel, and at every stoplight, you think about his eyes. Had the light been any better up on that rooftop, you might’ve even found out what color they were. You wouldn’t rat him out. You’d just like to know.
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It’s evening when he begins to show. You’re busying yourself with extra paperwork to justify your business being there past work hours and Alfred entertains you, assuring you that you wouldn’t have to wait much longer. With each second that ticks past six o’clock, your jaw clenches that much tighter. 
“Ah, there he is,” Alfred stands to his full height beside you, drawing your attention to the second floor where the mysterious, forbidden elevator rattles up the shaft, “knew he’d make an appearance eventually.” 
The first conversation you’d had with Bruce Wayne was the day you were hired. He’d sat across from you at a conference table six stories below the penthouse with Alfred at the head of the table and your former boss sat beside you. While you all discussed when you’d start, what to expect, and getting your access upgraded, Bruce Wayne had kept his eyes low and nodded along, never uttering more than a few words at a time. 
He’d been terrifying back then, the scariest man you’d ever met, and when he did look at you, you might as well have been strapped to your seat. At the end of the meeting, you’d all shaken hands to part ways. When you’d reached for Bruce’s hand, he’d given you a long, hard look that you’d mistaken then as threatening (you could laugh now, thinking about it), and told you that he’d “be looking forward to working with you”. 
You felt the same way only five months later, waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.
“Alfred, I’ll be out late-”
“Master Bruce, we have a visitor.”
Bruce comes to a stop at the top of the stairs. There’s a towel thrown over his shoulder and if it weren’t for the sweat staining the neck of his shirt, you’d think he’d just come fresh from the shower with his hair wet at the ends. 
You stand at the very foot of the stairs, trying not to let the clamminess of your palms ruin your gifts prematurely. When Bruce continues to look on, clearly looking for an answer as to why you were here so late, you take the initiative. “I don’t want to hold you for long, Mr. Wayne,” you say, climbing the stairs slowly, “I just wanted to... give you something. For your birthday. I know it was yesterday, a-and I know you don’t usually make a big thing out of birthdays, but... uh. I wanted to say thank you. For everything.” You’re two steps below Bruce when you finally come to a stop, worried that coming any closer might cease your ability to function. “I promise that was a lot less sappier than the card.”
For a few seconds, Bruce doesn’t move, and your palms start to sweat more profusely. When you look down at the mug and card extended toward him, your arms shake the longer he makes you wait. You were almost too embarrassed to look back up at him again. 
Then, Bruce reaches for the mug, holding it up to inspect it. One of his fingers traces the engraved, golden “W”, not nearly as fancy as the emblem you’d traced online. “W. For Wayne.” He states rather than asks. “Did you make this yourself?”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry about the handle, it was my first time handling pottery. The instructor said it’d hold up fine, though! Perfect for Dory’s tea. Or you could put pens in it. Or a... lucky bamboo. For wealth and prosperity.” You worry the joke might be too silly, an unnecessary buffer in case he hated the mug after all. 
Bruce shocks you with the tiniest of smiles, “Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.”
You return the smile, giddier than you let on. “Happy birthday, Mr. Wayne.”
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May, the present.
“Took you long enough, birthday boy! The ice cream’s gonna melt. Get in here!”
“Just be glad I didn’t escape through the terminus when I had the chance,” Bruce tacks on a smile before you can protest, knowing full well it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for him, “No one else is coming, right?”
The table is made up with minimal decoration: there’s a simple tablecloth stretched from end to end, struggling to cover the octagonal shape in full, and a pair of black and red star-shaped balloons tied to Bruce’s chair. The cake was easier to splurge on, a labor of love between both you and Alfred, baking and decoration included. It gave you both the freedom to draw a bat across the face of the cake in buttercream icing. It’s the first thing Bruce destroys by swiping his finger through it. You smack him on the shoulder as he smiles around his finger.
“Of course not. Miss Kyle didn’t return my call.” Alfred smirks.
You usher Bruce into his seat before retrieving the lighter. How you’d managed to fit so many candles on the cake without ruining the design was largely a stroke of luck, but it takes comically long for you to light them all. By the time the last candle is lit, the others are dripping wax onto the cake. “Okay, okay. Are we gonna sing?” You ask.
Dory cheers at the same time Bruce begs you not to. Naturally, you all sing.
It’s nothing pretty-sounding, though you think Dory really tries, and even though Bruce looks like he can’t wait for it to be over, he does brace it all with a smile.
“Gonna make a wish?” You ask, bending at the waist until your face is beside his.
Bruce raises an eyebrow. He seems to really consider it, and after a moment or two passes, he leans forward and blows out the candles in one fell swoop.
The cake is passed out in even slices around the table courtesy of Alfred, followed by gifts. Alfred presents Bruce with a new watch, Dory gifts him a guitar pick, and you hand him off a new sketchbook. “To draw me more” You joke, watching him go rosy.
By the time the small party has come to an end, Bruce is following you out to the balcony, spooning ice cream out of his mug with soap suds still dripping down his arms from clean up. “I can’t believe you still have that thing.” You remark, the garish, gold “W” glaring back at you in his hand.
“Did you think I was going to throw it out of the window or something?”
“Well, no, but... it was kind of embarrassing giving you that. I thought you were just being polite when you took it from me.”
Bruce leans his elbows on the fence and you do the same, “I know I said I didn’t care about your feelings, but I didn’t really mean it.”
You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I still can’t believe I showed that stupid thing to Batman.”
“It’s not stupid,” You peek between your fingers at him, mortification no doubt seeping through, “I’ll have you know this mug is on weekly dishwasher rotation.”
That explained a bit of the paint fading. Your heart quietly swells at the thought that your little piece of misshapen pottery was so well-loved. It’s enough to shut up your self-deprecation. “Did you enjoy your party, birthday boy?”
“I did. I enjoyed it even more because it wasn’t a surprise.”
“’Course not! Baby steps, Wayne, baby steps.” You giggle, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Bruce gets a silly smile on his face peeking down at your lips. Setting his now empty mug on the patio table, Bruce brings you close by the waist and lays a kiss on your mouth, lips still turned up at the corners. It was new, this featherlight repose that Bruce carried around the tower these days. He wasn’t without his dark days, and those days got particularly dark, but you weren’t the only one who’d noticed that there was a change in him. It was a gradual difference; no flip was switched, but things that lasted usually took time.
Bruce wasn’t healed of it all, but his shoulders seemed a little lighter. 
You drag Bruce’s bottom lip between both of your own before speaking again, “You taste like ice cream.”
“Sorry.” He whispers, not at all apologetic as he chases your mouth. He’s able to get in one more kiss before something shines in your peripheral. 
You’re the first to break away, a little disappointed as you recognize light carving a bat into the clouds: the Batman’s insignia. Bruce seems just as disappointed, though you know he won’t be for long. This is where he thrived, after all. 
You release your grip on Bruce, nodding to the balcony doors, “Don’t keep Gordon waiting, handsome.”
“Will you help me get ready?”
He doesn’t have to ask twice. Taking his hand, Bruce leads you to the terminus elevator, letting it lead you both down and into the cave. It had become routine enough for you to know where to go and what to do first. The paint is your most important task, though you help Bruce slip on his utility belt and gloves. 
With one foot propped on his desk chair, Bruce laces up his boots while you gently apply the paint around his eyes, always careful not to poke him between his lashes. A gentle tap on his cheek has him turning for better access.
The second you give him the OK, Bruce bends forward and allows you to slip his cowl on after you’ve brushed his hair back (he hated it getting stuck to his forehead when he was in need of a haircut). Fitting it snugly on, you lean up for him to give you one more kiss for good luck. “All set. Stay safe.”
Bruce grunts as the last dredges of his happy-go-lucky mood melts somber. He doesn’t miss out on the opportunity though, passing off the last bit of sweetness on his lips. “Don’t wait up this time.”
You smile and Bruce knows immediately that you aren’t listening to him, “Sure. Don’t be gone long.”
Neither of you expect the other to keep up their side of the bargain, but it’s the thought that counts. After all, it only made sense that you’d be there to wash off the same paint you put on, right? That was your excuse, anyway.
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hi! can I request a yuta x f!reader fanfic where the mc has suicidal thoughts and has diagnosed depression? i just want some comfort rn. If it's uncomfortable for you feel free to skip it. ^^
I’M ALWAYS WITH YOU | YUTA OKKOTSU X GN!READER
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WORDS: 1.0k
CONTENT: no manga spoilers, comfort, some talk of depression, blood
NOTE: hello, i just wanted to say (even though you may not want to hear it cause people say it all the time) that i’m always here if you genuinely want to talk <3 there was a time where i was more down in my life so all i wish to do is help. i hope this work gives some sort of comfort
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everything was tiring.
each and every day went by painfully slow, causing your interests in daily life to plummet further. sometimes, you stopped wondering what you would do that day.
what you once loved to do lost its glow and the meals that you ate lost their flavor. you were at a loss, and knowing what you were already diagnosed with wasn’t helping.
the medicines didn’t always help, and sometimes you could feel as if they were swallowing you whole.
the downfall in your behavior wasn’t noticeable at first, but it almost never was for any case. it started with the first year teacher, who was once your own, asking you a simple question.
“hey kid, are you alright?”
satoru gojo was perceptive and even more so with his six eyes. but even with just his normal vision, he noticed the way you were growing more and more distant. it was a familiar sight
“yeah,” you would answer dryly with a smile to feign your mood as content, “i’m okay, gojo-sensei.”
the next to notice was megumi fushiguro, one of the current first years. he brought up the question of if anyone noticed anything different to the other first years, who were yuji itadori and nobara kugisaki.
“l/n-senpai…” kugisaki hummed, “i thought that maybe it was just stress. they seemed to be busy lately with all their missions, even though it’s supposed to be down season.”
itadori looked over too while he watched you spar with maki, “they do seem to be a little more tired lately. i saw them yesterday walking around when it was… what was it? oh! it was twelve, i think.”
“why were you even up?”
lastly, and not that long after the first years’ noticed, the second years themselves could see that things were getting way worse. they’ve seen times where you were down, but now it was falling into the deep-end.
and no matter who asked, you replied with a smile and told them you were okay.
but you weren’t, and your clouded mind caused your major injuries on your next mission. cut up and bleeding, the rest of your classmates at the school and the first years saw your beat-up situation for the briefest moment. the blood made it hard to tell if it was even you.
it was four days after the mission, two since shoko ieiri dismissed you and said you were alright to at least walk around, when you found yourself laying in the training field.
the moon shone over you as it was already nine at night, illuminating your features. you blankly stared at the beautiful stars littered across the sky. some stars shone, and others light’s died.
laying like a starfish, your eyes fluttered shut as you listened to the sound of the breeze and crickets in the distance chirping. it wasn’t even relaxing. it was just… another boring night.
sleeping would’ve been nice, and sometimes you wondered what it was like for those who slept for eternity. was it just another boring night for them, or was it peaceful?
just when you felt your consciousness slipping away into sleep, your eyes opened to the familiar call of your name. the voice seemed awfully familiar to you.
“huh?” you decided to sit up as you heard the call again.
“y/n!”
you brought your hand to your head when you were met with silence. assuming it was merely your imagination, your body dropped back down and you tried resting again.
but it seems like he wouldn’t let you, “y/n! y/n! where are-! y/n!?”
the voice you heard earlier became much louder and clear, so much that you recognized it. your eyes shot open and you tilted your head up in front of you. yuta okkotsu was running up to you in the flesh.
frantically, the black-haired boy ran up to your sitting-up form and attacked you in a hug. his arms, which were once scrawny but now gained some muscle, wrapped around you.
the feeling you felt within you was foreign as you were on your back once again. okkotsu’s face was buried into your neck as he squeezed you tighter.
“y-yuta,” you stuttered as a sudden pain came to you, “my side.”
realizing what he was doing, okkotsu let go and moved back, “i’m so sorry!”
“it’s alright,” you told him while staring at him, “why are you here? and why are you so worried?”
he looked taken back, “why am i worried? gojo-sensei called me and told me i should come back. he said you were heavily injured a-and i became so worried! your life, it’s precious and hearing that you could’ve died right then and there… it hurt me more than you would think.”
you just stared at him with widened eyes, “precious…? your mistaken, the life of one who doesn’t see the point of living isn’t to be cherished.” recalling the mission a few days ago, your mind spun. “then and there, there was nothing motivating me to even open my eyes. hit after hit, i couldn’t bring myself to move.”
“i know how you feel,” okkotsu took your right hand in both of his, “to feel worthless and want to die. when rika died and people around me kept getting hurt, i didn’t see the point of living. but now, i found my reason. i’ll fight for the ones i care about. you all helped me find my true home. i want to repay you, so i’ll tell you to fight for yourself, y/n, because you are precious to me. i’ll cherish you as long as i live, even after then. and when there are times that you can’t, that you feel like the battle within you is gone, i’ll step in and fight for you.”
before you even knew it, liquid dropped from your right eye. soon, more tears wordlessly slipped out and you felt a burden you didn’t know was even on your shoulders lift.
your bottom lip quivered while he pushed your head to his shoulder, his left arm snaked behind your back and his right hand resting on your head. his head rested by the temple of yours.
“i’ve got you,” he told you as cries come from your lips, “i’m always with you.”
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NAVIGATION
please reblog to support <3
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kageyuji · 3 years
Text
asking him “can you hold me?”
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⤷ iwaizumi, bokuto, oikawa, suna, atsumu ; [gn!reader]
warnings/genre: fluff, kind of comfort?
notes: reblogs help me tons!! so please reblog <3
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━━ IWAIZUMI
as soon as you say it, you’ve unlocked Worried Boyfriend Iwaizumi™
even if there isn’t anything wrong, the fact that he thinks he’s been depriving you of cuddles makes him worry </3
his voice is soft whenever he speaks, quiet and comforting
once he’s holding you, he finds its more comforting than he assumed
it takes him a while to admit it (both to himself and out loud to you </3) but he wants to either hold you or be held 24/7
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“Can you hold me?” you ask, standing in front of where he’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
His thumb stops on his phone screen, a somewhat shocked expression in his eyes as he turns his head to look at you. You hear the click as he turns his phone off, setting it down beside himself.
“Yeah, sure thing,” He says. His voice is softer than you’re used to hearing from him, a little higher but quieter than it normally is.
He moves his arms to give you better access. After you crawl into his lap, hes immediately wrapping his arms around you and hooking his chin over your shoulder.
“Everything ok, angel?”
“Yeah,” You say quietly, and he can’t tell if you’re lying. “Just wanted to be close to you.”
He hums and presses a small to kiss to your shoulder in response, his arms getting a little tighter around you. “That’s fine, stay here as long as you want.”
━━ BOKUTO
bokuto is very physically affectionate, but it’s in a way that he isn’t meaning to do it
he’s always been touchy, and now that you’re his partner, he has one more reason to hold your hand, hug you, cuddle you, etc
so when you ask him to hold you, he’s a little confused, but more than happy to oblige
also he gives the best hugs??
his chest his broad and his body is warm, strong arms wrapped around you
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“Can you hold me?”
“Hm?” He says, stopping what he was doing to stare at you. “I mean- yeah. Of course, baby, but what’s wrong?”
You just shrugged. Bokuto knew that he was a lot more physically affectionate than other couples tended to be, and he’d been starting to wonder if maybe you were getting annoyed at that.
That thought left his mind now though. You were tucked into his chest now, his arms wrapped around you as he pressed kisses against the side of your face.
“I dunno,” You said, though you were smiling now. While he liked seeing you happy, a small part of Bokuto hoped he was the one that made you smile. “just felt like it. But we don’t have to if you don’t wa-”
“No, no! I want to. How about we go cuddle on the couch, we can watch tv in the background that way, yeah?”
You smiled again, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
He smiled too, stealing a quick kiss before he starts to lead you away to the couch.
━━ OIKAWA
he likes physical affection, but actually asking or hinting at the fact that he wants to cuddle is another story
as cocky as he might act, he’s always nervous when it comes to things like that, especially if it has to do with you
so when you ask him, he’s relieved
the tone in your voice worries him a little, but he won’t ask until you seem to have relaxed with him for a while
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“Can you hold me?” You asked, looking over to him with hopeful eyes.
He stopped, turning to you. You could see the gears turning in his head, like he was trying to figure out if you were joking around or not.
“Of course,” He finally said, smile working at the corner of his lips. “We can get blankets and cuddle, that sound ok, baby?
You hummed in agreement, and then suddenly the two of you were in bed. You were tucked into his chest, his arms around you, one hand tracing circles on your back.
You can feel him take in a deeper breath, but words don’t immediately follow. Why he hesitated to speak is a mystery to you, but the caution was still in his voice whenever he spoke.
“If theres anything wrong, you can tell me, princex. If I haven’t been spending enough time with you, I-
“No, no, it’s ok. I just wanted you to hold me, you didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t worry, alright?”
He swears he was supposed to be comforting you, and now here you are comforting him. Oikawa just hims in response though, holding you a little tighter and pressing a short kiss to your neck.
━━ SUNA
suna knows he isn’t always the most physically affectionate in public, but he has a tendency to be overly affectionate in private
which is why when you ask him to hold you he’s a little confused — of course he wants to, but was something wrong? do you mean in public or something?
he can usually tell if you’re upset, so he won’t press you for answers, but he’ll hint around at the fact that you can talk to him
he’s not complaining though, he likes to be close to you too
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“Can you hold me?”
“Yeah, of course.” Suna says, taking a step towards you to press a kiss to your forehead. “Do you wanna talk?”
“Uhm, no. I mean, not unless you do, I just wanted to be close to you.”
Suna hummed, wrapping his hand in yours and half-dragging you over to the couch. “We don’t have to. If you want to talk to me you can, though, ‘bout whatever you want. How about we watch that movie you always like though, hm, angel?”
You smiled, squeezing his hand a little.
Suna flopped down onto the couch, his arm hooking around your waist to drag you down too. He pecked your cheek, smiling and mumbling that he loves you.
“I love you, too.”
Suna’s hands moved to tickle you, as he pressed more kisses over your face. If it weren’t for you trying to wriggle away, you would be able to see the smile on his face.
━━ ATSUMU
he might not act like it, but atsumu is soft when it comes to you, and physical affection is no different
so when you ask him to hold you, he says yes with no hesitation
it worried him a little when you asked, but you usually make it known if you want to talk
so he doesn’t press you, but he’ll ask if you want to tell him something
otherwise he’s making the most of his opportunity and is not letting you out of his arms until it’s absolutely necessary
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“Can you hold me?”
A smile spreads across his face and he tosses his phone to the other side of the couch. “Sure thing, baby.”
He opens his arms, something like a pout now on his face. You give something like a laugh, moving to settle yourself against him.
It’s almost muscle memory, or maybe instinct, one of his arms wrapping around you and his other reaching for your hand, running a thumb over your knuckles.
“Anythin’ you wanna talk about, bub?” He says, his voice softer than it was a moment ago.
“Mm, no, I just wanted to be held.”
He nods, asking if you need anything, if you want to the tv on, if you want to hear him talk. You find that whenever he’s calm like this, he’s sweeter. Not that he normally isn’t, but he has a tendency to act nonchalant.
It’s calmer like this, you find. You can’t prove it, but you swear he’s more relaxed like this too.
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thewildwaffle · 3 years
Text
Humans are Weird: Antibiotics
A story prompt from a user on a03. Apparently, this is my 50th short story, or at least the 50th installment of m humans are weird short stories. Hurray!
****
Ni Andu watched a dried sickle leaf roll across the empty courtyard from her window. A deep sigh made her breath fog up the glass. The courtyard wasn't supposed to be empty. Especially not this time of year. The Gauru Ni Moon Festival usually brought visitors from around the world and across multiple star systems right about now. But the disease meant no bright banners were hung. No music echoed cheerily through around the corners and down the streets. There were no wafting scents of fresh fruits and fried breads.
It was amazing and terrifying that something so small that it couldn’t be seen had done all this. The Ni were a proud race, rich in culture, and until now, seemingly sturdy in constitution. Diseases had come and gone in the past, but in such small and freak cases that they were hardly given much attention. It was assumed that Ni immune systems were the best in the galaxy and many other races had even requested to study how they were so effective.
Those prideful memories felt hollow now as Ni Andu sighed and pulled herself away from the dreary sight outside. As a new and reluctant head of the house, she had more pressing things to deal with than moping in the past. Several members of her own family were still sick, two of her hatch mates had been very touch-and-go as of late. She slowly made her way to the cushions where they were sleeping to check on them. To her relief, she saw the soft blankets they were wrapped in rose and fell slowly. She stood there, watching them for a bit in the gathering darkness of their shared humble abode. Matki’s breathing sounded like gravel stuck in a child’s rolling skiffer.
“What are we going to do?” Andu’s wide nose scrunched up as she begged the silent house. “What am I supposed to do next?”
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there trying to think of everything and nothing all at once. It was a good while though and was only interrupted when a small light turned on in the meal room. Andu looked up at the light streaming out of the door’s archway. With a sigh, she gathered her strength to move again to see who was up. As she approached, she heard small claws scrabbling on the stonework floor and storage pods opening and closing.
Sure enough, when she peeked in, Andu could see little Piri shuffling through food storage pods that looked even less stocked than she thought they’d been. There were a few bottled foods, a few containers of ingredient-prepped soup containers, but certainly nothing immediately ready for consumption. Most easy and ready-to-eat foods had been eaten long ago or destroyed when they began to decay and grow dangerous molds. And to a small three-year-old Ni, that basically meant there was no food at all.
“Hey Piri, are you hungry?” Even though Andu had kept her voice quiet, little Piri still jumped and tucked his small thin tail like he was ashamed he’d been caught. Andu smiled comfortingly and stepped into the room to pick up one of the soup packs.
“It’s okay, you’re fine,” she patted him on the head softly, “I think it’s time for a meal too. I’m sure everyone else would agree once they wake up and smell the food.”
“There’s not much left,” Piri’s small voice was so sad and only made the words themselves feel sharper to Andu’s hearts. She tried to think of something she could say to make their situation seem less dire, but nothing came to mind. Instead, she scooped up Piri’s small form and waited until his thin arms latched securely around her scruff before she walked over to get a pot to cook in. She was going to have to add quite a bit of water to this if it was going to make enough to sustain everyone for a meal.
Cooking, even making something simple, helped ease Andu’s mind. There was a sense of normalcy in standing in front of a firebox and stirring a bubbling pot of soup. She tried to ignore how thin it was. Still, the smell made her feel warm and it must have wafted across the house as she could soon hear the tell-tale signs of her hatch mates waking up. She gathered bowls and filled each one. Lowering Piri back down, she handed the young Ni a bowl and carried the rest to the cushions where the rest of the family was slowly waking up.
They ate together slowly, trying to make the contents of their bowl last and talking quietly about anything they could to distract themselves from their situation. Matki was recalling a story from four lunar years ago when Andu had entered a fried bread pastry into a competition. Between Matki’s coughing and Andu interjecting to defend herself, the story kept getting interrupted! She’d worked on the recipe for her pastry for so long and was so proud of it, but the night before, something went wrong when she was making her entry. Whether it was nerves, exhaustion, oversight, or Jentala above forbid, sabotage, it went very wrong. From the way Matki described the judges’ reaction, one might have thought Andu had purposefully tried poisoning them! As everyone chuckled, Matki claimed he still had the video recording from the competition and pulled it out, much to Andu’s chagrin.
Andu pretended to be exasperated by the teasing, but really she was just glad everyone felt good enough to laugh again.
It took a while before she and the others noticed that Matki hadn’t pulled up the video. Instead, his eyes locked on the comm tablet screen.
“Matki?”
“Hey, did you find it?”
“Matki are you okay?”
Matki finally looked up, eyes still wide from whatever he’d been looking at. “They’re coming to help.”
Everyone shared a worried look. What?
“Who are you talking about? Who’s coming?” Andu broke the confused silence.
Matki tapped something on-screen with the pad of a finger and a holographic projection display rose up.
Everyone watched enraptured by the newscast. It was about humans. From halfway across the galaxy, they’d heard about the Ni’s plight and had come claiming they had a cure. They were offering aid and resources to run tests to make sure their medicine was safe and effective for Ni use and make alterations if needed. They were even claiming they’d help distribute the finalized cure the moment it was given the go-ahead. In the meantime, they were also sending ships of food and supplies.
Andu could feel the back of her throat tighten. Was this real? Did she dare hope? There’d been so many reports before about help being promised, well, not help to this extent, but help nonetheless. They’d ended up being just for show and were proven empty once those who offered realized how impossible the situation really was.
But humans? She’d heard they were tough. And stubborn. Maybe they were stubborn enough to see their promises through?
The embarrassing video of Andu’s failed pastry was long forgotten, the conversation instead jumped between wild rumors her family had overheard about humans and speculation about how long it would take for the humans to actually lend aid if they were really coming at all. Andu could see a shimmer in the eyes of her hatch mates as they spoke that she hadn’t seen in a while. Although she wished she could feel the same optimism, she could also see how quickly they were all tiring out. Although they’d slept most of the day, the disease was still taking its toll on them all.
Once the meager meal was finished, she stood to gather the now empty bowls. She noticed Piri quickly scrape a finger along the side of his bowl to snag any last morsel before she came along to collect it. ‘Jentala above,’ she prayed mentally, ‘if help truly is coming, send it along soon.”
With bellies no longer completely empty, everyone settled in, and soon the room was full of sleeping or near sleeping Ni.
Andu slept fitfully. She dreamed, but it was fractured and confusing. Even before the disease came, she had a hard time remembering her dreams once she woke up. It was near impossible now. She did remember a loud humming noise though. As she blinked her eyes and lifted her head, she realized the humming was still there. She rose and searched for the source. It almost sounded like… engines? But that, that had to be impossible - the quarantine…
She looked out the window. Dried sickle leaves were flying around wildly as a large shuttle slowly came in for a landing in the courtyard. Andu opened her mouth to call out to the rest of her family, but nothing would come. How were they still asleep with this racket? Apparently, it managed to wake up Piri, who nearly made Andu jump when he bumped into her side while trying to climb up for a better view out the window.
“What’s going on? Who’s outside?” Piri waited to ask until Andu had resettled herself after being startled.
“I’m not sure yet,” she answered as they both watched the shuttle’s doors slowly work through the unsealing process. Across the courtyard, she could see other Ni’s faces peeking out their windows. As far as she could tell, expressions seemed to range anywhere from fear to curiosity to… was that hope? Wait, had they seen the newscast last night? Did they think this was… there’s no way the humans could be here already, right?
They both watched intently as the doors finally opened and a ramp extended. Soon a line of creatures she’d only seen on screens filed down wearing yellow vests and hauling huge boxes in their arms or on carts they pulled behind them.
“It is the humans!” Piri yelled and jumped down from his perch. He ran to where everyone was stirring on the cushions, “Wake up! Wake up! The humans are here!”
Andu wasn’t sure if she should reprimand Piri for disturbing them, or if she should join in. Instead, she watched as the humans in the courtyard started setting up stations and continued hauling load after load filled with what must have been hexaheebs of food, clean water, and various supplies.
She turned to look back at her family who were trying to rise as fast as their weakened bodies would allow. Matki began coughing violently and had to rest against the wall. Andu went to help support him when a knock at the front door startled everyone. They all stared at the old chirrowood door, then around at each other. It had been so long since quarantine had started, they’d almost forgotten what a knock on the door sounded like.
After a pause, the knock came again, this time followed by a worried and drawn-out, “Hello?”
Once she was sure Matki was standing stable, Andu, being the least sick among everyone, walked to and slowly opened the door.
A human from the shuttle stood in the doorway. They were wearing a mask over their mouth and nose, but it was definitely a human! Their eyes closed slightly and creased in the corners as they nodded a greeting. “Hi, my name is Ali, I’m part of the relief team that’s been assigned to this district. We’ve got food and essentials to distribute and I just need to know how many are in this household and if anyone here is in critical condition.”
Andu blinked at the human for a moment as she took in what they’d said.
“We, uh, we have four adults and one child. There, there were more, but…” she couldn’t finish that sentence. From the look the human gave her, she didn’t need to finish it. Her sinuses stung as she fought to not cry. The first visitor in how long and here she was almost crying in the doorway?
“I'm so sorry for your loss,” the human’s head bowed and their shoulders dropped. “I wish we’d known and could have helped earlier. Is anyone here in need of immediate emergency care?”
At that point, Matki started coughing again. Andu and Ali looked back to see him sit back down until his coughing died down.
Andu sighed and turned back to the human. “None of us are great right now. Matki’s probably the worst out of all of us. He sounds bad, but he actually has started to stabilize in the past few days.”
Human Ali gave a short nod and started writing something on a tablet in his hands.
“Do you,” Andu’s voice trembled, “we heard a report last night about you. That you were coming. That you… do you…” she swallowed and fought back desperate tears, “do you really have a cure?”
The human’s eyes creased again. “We do.”
Andu didn’t need to turn around to know the effect this had on her family. She heard it. She felt it. This time, she didn’t fight back the tears.
“Right now,” Human Ali continued, “it’s in the final stages of approval for Ni use, we’re just waiting for the ‘go-ahead’ and we’ll help distribute it as soon as it arrives. Until then, I’ve got some food and supplies for you. I can help unload and unpack if you need?”
“That… that would be... thank you,” she wiped at her tears. “Thank you so much.”
Over the next few days, more shuttles came and went, bringing more supplies, food, tools, and just in general, a brighter outlook and mood to the entire neighborhood. The humans really were here to help, and they seemed happy to do so. Not only were they good with their promises of aid, but they also delivered on the cure they said they had. Ni were instructed on the drug’s use and administration directions thoroughly for both the tablet and liquid forms of the cure. The effects were quick, and from the reports on the newscast, overwhelmingly positive. The Ni were cured! The plague that had once threatened to wipe out their entire population was gone! Celebrations larger than even the Gauru Ni Moon Festival were planned, songs were written, stories shared and spread. It was wholly agreed by all that this was a historic time in Ni history that they all survived through, and all thanked Jentala above for sending the humans to help.
It went without saying that everyone wanted to know more about the cure itself. And that meant everyone, not just the Ni, but the rest of the galactic community who before, had written the Ni off as a lost cause because of the horrific disease. What was this miracle cure? What other things could it do? Where, by all that is bright and shining, did the humans get it, and could it be easily replicated?
The humans, for their part, were again as open and gracious with their information as they had been with their aid. It was an old medicine they’d discovered long ago on their planet. Considered to be the first “antibiotic,” it was widely used on Earth and had saved millions of lives since its discovery. It worked by interfering with bacteria cell walls and destroyed them by causing them to burst.
It was called
Penicillin.
“Amazing!” “Spectacular!” “So simple, yet so ingenious!” many in the galactic community praised. “How ever did you discover this amazing drug?”
The initial answer wasn’t too surprising, for humans at least: it was an accident.
Andu almost snorted as she read the report to the rest of her family. Granted, the end of the plague was the first time any of them had come in direct contact with humans, but they all had heard many of the stories about human escapades. Wild experiments that on paper seemed more like a drunken brainstorm party that ended up advancing rocket fuel technology by at least 8 lunar years. Crash-landings on category 3 death worlds and they ended up liking them so much they decided to set up colonies. Half of what they did seemed to be mistakes that just went right for them. Apparently, the miracle drug penicillin was included in those stories.
She looked up its history and manufacturing.
Andu felt claws dance down her back as she read more. It came… from mold? Mold?! She looked up from the tablet to the faces of her equally horrified hatch mates. It took them a moment to remember how to close their mouths.
"You mean like mold on old bread?" Piri broke the shocked silence.
Andu blinked and looked back at the report. Old bread? How many times had they not eaten bread fast enough in the warm humid seasons only to pick up a bul of bread and find mold growing on it. It was dangerous, it had to be carefully disposed of, it was… able to save lives?
She returned to the report. The more she read, the more comforted she became in the safety of the miracle antibiotic. That, and she couldn't argue with the results. Her family was around her, now loudly being altogether boisterous together as they "discussed" the humans and all the ways they played with death in order to save life.
Matki snatched the tablet from her claws, wanting to read the report for himself. As Andu was jostled by her now healthy, energetic family, she was just happy and eternally thankful that the humans were crazy enough to play with something as dangerous as fungus, and then kind enough to share what they discovered.
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buckyownsmylife · 3 years
Text
You and I - Henry Cavill smut
The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer
Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick,  laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex
Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill
A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar​ for giving this a read for me!
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Y/N’s P.O.V
Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.
I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.
Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.
There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.
I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.
Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.
I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.
I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.
The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.
Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.
“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.
Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.
Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.
My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.
I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.
With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.
“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.
“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”
Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”
I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.
Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.
“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”
I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.
“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.
“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”
The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.
I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.
“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.
“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.
“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.
Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.
“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.
“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.
“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.
“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.
“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.
“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…
“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.
“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.
“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.
“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.
The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.
“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.
“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.
“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.
Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.
“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”
He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”
Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.
“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.
“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”
“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.
“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.
“No.” It was all the permission he needed.
“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.
It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.
Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”
Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”
“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.
“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”
Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.
My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.
“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”
“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.
“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?
“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”
“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.
“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.
“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.
I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.
I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.
“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”
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