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#//sorry for my violent rambling i got it out of my system now thanks for reading my weird bullshit lmao
beforeitrains · 11 months
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Do you have any Kai and Hiyori headcanons you've been thinking about that may not necessarily fit into the fic you are writing?
Wow, thank you so much for asking this! I’m gonna ramble a bit about how their story plays out in my head. Hopefully, it will make sense in the end. Sorry, this is long.
Alright, so after watching Kai’s story, I’ve got the impression that Asunaro has some cult-like qualities. Like they’ve got science, but there’s also an irrational religious element to their hierarchy. Spiritual leaders can do almost anything, group mentality keeps everyone in check. So I would guess that the Hiyori clan is Asunaro royalty, while the Satous are from a more humble assassin class. These families were never equals, but the relationship between them was polite and civil in the beginning. Momdori would pay Gashu regular visits, and sometimes little Sou would tag along. Whenever that happened, Gashu would bestow Kai with the utmost important task of entertaining the young guest. Even at the age of 8-9, Kai was an extraordinarily obedient, calm and patient child. Unlike other Asunaro kids, he was able to handle Sou’s (~6-7 years old) violent tendencies and intrusive curiosity, considering this challenge to be a part of his assassin training. He introduced Sou to different games, dodged an occasional knife attack aimed at his back, even stopped the younger boy from chopping off a finger or from setting himself on fire.
Sou never caught on that Kai was mostly being nice to him to win father's approval. He adored the older boy to the point of drawing the two of them holding hands, getting married, dissecting people together. Occasionally, Momdori would find those pictures, and her eyebrows would furrow in parental concern. But mostly she’d tell herself that as long as she followed the will of the organization, God would guide her son.
The play dates soured after Sei became part of the Satou family. Sei had zero patience for Sou's antics. And since Sei was older and stronger, their very first game ended with hurt feelings and knocked out milk teeth. Subsequently, Sei perished during the Assassin Game. Gashu's mind started to crumble under pressure. And Kai was faced with the reality of who the Hiyoris actually were and just how much power they wielded. 
So when Sou appeared at Kai’s door with a smug smile, hoping to reconnect with his playmate, things did not go well. Kai summoned all the icy sternness he had inherited from Gashu, going so far as to let Sou know that he never liked him to begin with. Hearing this sent the younger boy running home in tears.
This is the part I’m not sure about. Kai and Sou could have just cut contact, which would have lead to misunderstandings and hatred in the future (1). Alternatively, their relationship could have become more detached and formal (2). I started off writing (1), but (2) would be more realistic, probably, since the two of them likely had classes and other activities together with the rest of Asunaro kids. So let's go with (2).
During the following years, Kai likely got to witness Sou's character go from troubling to monstrous. At school, Sou would scheme against older and more popular kids and use his younger, weaker classmates mercilessly for his own benefit. The influence of Momdori on Sou's character was probably huge during this period (we know from her convos with Gashu that she was deceitful and manipulative). Finally, if we’re to believe that Kai started his assassin training in elementary school, then it is likely that Sou was on his way to become an Asunaro businessman by junior high. 
Now Kai had lots of pain to deal with during his teenage years and early adulthood. His brother was dead. His father was becoming mentally frail and vulnerable. He was starting to question the system he’s been raised to honor. But perhaps he did try to reach out to Sou at some point, in hopes of stopping the younger man from spiraling. Hopefully, after many years apart, they’ve managed to regain some of the shattered trust. Nevertheless, for Sou, the process of “giving up humanity” was already under way, and he would not turn back. Somewhere a contract has already been signed, the date has been set, and the will of the organization was not to be questioned. Maybe, on the night before the operation Sou confided in Kai that he was scared. Maybe, Kai urged Sou to reconsider his decision. Still, the next day Sou was decapitated, and the doll/AI head was attached to his human body. I imagine it was presented as a sacred ritual, a rebirth of sorts, with some high-ranking Asunaro members present at the scene. Kai was too low-rank to attend. He spent that day cooking for his dad and playing board games with himself.
Ok, I’ll stop here. These are my rough thoughts rn. There’s probably lots of inconsistencies, and I might change my mind on some details later on, haha. But I do like the idea of them sharing some important moments, even though they wouldn't refer to each other as friends.
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jockbrannigan · 5 months
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Not everyone's an asshole
Maya and Jock catch up with each other at the Redwood Prom.
@mxyacho
Jock
-Honestly, Jock was overwhelmed. This whole night had been a risk for him and he was still undecided if it had been worth it or not. He had gotten to hang out with Mayra again and meet new people like Vi and Vivienne but all the good stuff was overshadowed by Zack and his stinky, violent attitude.-
-The temptation to run home was strong and honestly, Jock didn't think he had the will to fight it off. So he started to leave the prom. That was until he spotted Maya. Despite still wanting to get home as soon as possible, the part of his brain in charge of fighting against his agoraphobia and anxiety took over and directed him towards the familiar and friendly face.-
"Hey Maya. You OK? You having fun?"
Maya Cho
-Maya had wandered off to the bathroom and was on her way back to the party when Jock spotted her. She smiled and gave him a wave as she met him halfway.- Hey, Jock. Yeah, I'm alright. How about you? Honestly I'm surprised you came to something like this.
Jock
"Yeah, I surprised myself with this one!"
-Jock looks around nervously-
"Hey, so, be honest: not everyone here is a complete jerk, right?"
Maya Cho
-Maya notices how he's looking around and looks around with him- No, not everyone here is a jerk. Why? What happened?
Jock
"I might have found a not so friendly person. And by 'I might have', I mean I did."
Maya Cho
-Maya wondered if it was the same guy who had scared her- Who was it? What did he look like?
Jock
"Some dude called Zack. Tall, would be handsome if he wasn't so fucking sour, dark sandy hair. Sound familiar?"
Maya Cho
-it wasn't the guy, then. At least that was one guy to scrub off the list- No, can't say I've met him, but now I know to steer clear of anyone named Zack. What happened?
Jock
-Jock scratches the back of his neck and then shakes his head. He feels like he's already been over this enough times for one night-
"I pissed him off so he pushed me around. Pinned me to the floor at one point. I'm fine. Shaken, not stirred, you know?"
Maya Cho
Yeah, I know that way too well. -She realizes what she just said- I had a guy here corner me and attack me in the Laundromat.
Jock
-His eyes go wide as the realisation hits him. Before he can ask about it, Maya is filling in some of the details. He frowns.-
"I thought the Council vetted everyone here. You telling me they let in not just one but two psycho assholes? Are you OK? Dumb question, I get it, but are ya? OK, I mean?"
Maya Cho
They do....vet, I mean. But I guess psycho assholes know how to beat the system. -it was a good question- I'm better now, but I'm still a little shaken. I've been staying with Alex because I don't feel safe at home by myself, so that helps.
Jock
"Man, I'm so sorry you're going through this. It's good you've got Alex to help you through it. Things going good with him, I take it?"
Maya Cho
Yeah. I mean, we're just friends, of course. But he's a good guy. What about you? Make any friends yet?
Jock
-He raises one sceptical eyebrow at her in the wake of the 'just friends' comment but he doesn't push it any further. If it was his business, Maya would've told him the additional details.-
"I'm working on that, I swear. I mean, that's the whole point of me coming here, right? Meet new people, put faces to names or whatever."
-He cringes over his rambling and the too fresh memory of Zack looming over him-
Maya Cho
Well, I'm proud of you for coming out. I'm just sorry you had to experience an asshole. But I guess the world is still full of them.
Jock
"Not everyone's an asshole. You're not an asshole, for example."
Maya Cho
-Maya smiled as she gently nudged Jock with her fist- Aww, thanks Jock. You're not too bad yourself.
Jock 
-He gives her a wide grin, a genuine one too-
"Thanks. My ego needed to hear that!"
Maya Cho
You are very welcome. I am glad to feed your ego.
Jock 
-His cheeks flush a little and he scratches the back of his neck for a moment.-
"Hey, so I know you said you have Alex but if you ever want to stay with me- wait, no. My place is tiny. So if you ever want me to stay with you, I can do that. Say if Alex can't for whatever reason, I can be the back-up, you know?"
Maya Cho
-Maya notices his blush and she laughs a little as she nudges him- You're so sweet. But do you mean that? I already owe you for that one Winter....
Jock 
"I wouldn't say if I didn't mean it. Plus you promised me a tattoo in return for that one Winter. Maybe now you can owe me two!"
Maya Cho
If I can get a working tattoo needle and ink and everything, I will give you as many tattoos as you want. -she gave him a smile- You are amazing, Jock. Thank you. Can I hug you?
Jock
"I could get a sleeve tattoo!"
-He laughs softly before his cheeks fully flush as she praises him. He nods in reply to her question and he opens his arms out to her-
"Yeah, you can hug me!"
Maya Cho
-Her smile gets huge as she leans in and hugs him tightly- See, now I'm extra proud of you. I'm glad you found your way here.
Jock
-Jock returns the hug and grins at her-
"I'm glad you're here too. Makes this whole experience much easier to face."
Maya Cho
Well, I'm glad I could help by just being here. -she lets go- Maybe I should stop by one of these days and check out your place. Maybe work on that sleeve of yours.
Jock
"Yeah, I'd love that! I can make you tea, I have a kettle and everything. You're welcome over any time."
Maya Cho
I am going to hold you to that, so don't come complaining to me when I show up randomly
Jock
"You get a pass because you're my tattoo artist. It's very exclusive!"
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one-abuse-survivor · 10 months
Note
"35 days" anon
We graduated :D, our "parents" forced us to walk which was highly uncomfortable and awful but at least they said our real name and not our deadname despite it not being our legal name.
And they didn't super ruin it our "mom" kept touching our face afterwards [we've told her before we don't like being touched]. All in all okay though
Our "dad" threatned to not pay for college if he didn't get to come but that was the only super shitty part from them.
We leave now in 2 days and will be home to our partner in 5 I'm so excited and happy , our "mom" invited herself along otherwise we would have left 3 days ago
She keeps insisting we come back here and I'm not going to tell her we never will, its so funny ya know, she thinks because "she only yelled at us sometimes" and apologized for that it absolves her of all the abuse and *it doesn't*, shes an alcoholic and a stoner which meant we had to raise our two younger siblings, she made us see our "dad" during the first part of the divorce and live with him during the seocnd because she didn't want to face more abuse from him [so make an 11 through 15 year old face it instead] AND SHE KNEW he was abusing us, she also hit us more often than him.
I just cant wait to leave thanks for listening to my ramble
purple system
The 30 something days anon, but I'm free I'm home we're with our partner and I'm happy but I'm so anxious all the time now
That their going to dump us, that their parents are going to kick us out why cant I be free
Hey again! I just found your two older asks you signed with a different name. I'll keep the "🧵 anon" tag so it's not confusing. Hope that's okay :)
Congrats again on graduating! I'm so glad you got to say your real name instead of your deadname, that's awesome! Your parents were really shitty, though. I'm sorry to hear they made you walk and they touched and threatened you like that. You didn't deserve any of that. It's so good to know you're far away from both of them now, and away from all their abuse.
It's understandable to be really anxious after leaving an abusive situation, and to have a hard time feeling safe. When you've been living in an unsafe and dangerous environment for very long and you suddenly move out to a safe environment, your brain is still in survival mode. That's why this new perceived safety can subconsciously feel suspicious and unnerving. It can make you feel like the danger must be there, because it's always been, and the fact that you can't perceive it anymore means you're unprotected and vulnerable. Therefore, at any moment, it could catch you off-guard and hurt you just as bad as you've already been hurt in the past.
That's why, immediately after leaving the abusive situation, we can tend to catastrophise and assume the things we fear the most are going to happen. For example, that the people who are taking care of us are going to suddenly turn violent or abandon us.
But that's okay. It's okay if safety feels unnerving, jarring, and unsafe at first. It's okay if it takes a while to stop being hypervigilant and expecting the worst. It's a very common survival reaction. And feeling anxious now doesn't mean you'll never be free. It is absolutely possible to feel safe again after enduring so much trauma. Everyone's recovery journey is different, and it may take a long time to get to that point. But just because you're not there yet, it doesn't mean you'll never get there.
Sending all my support your way ❤️
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emmyhem · 3 years
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everything you’re missing (c.t.h)
a/n: hi everybody, i’m back with another post. this is my first calum piece and i’m so excited to finally get it up. this is once again unedited, i’m way too tired rn. it’s also the second smut i’ve posted so that’s pretty exciting as well. yeah i don’t really have much to say right now because i’m literally exhausted, my classes are really kicking my ass. anyway i hope you all enjoy this bff!calum piece. feedback and comments are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well and are being safe. thank you - emmy <33
pairing: bff!calum hood x fem!reader
summary: a drunken text meant for your ex shows up on calum’s phone and leaves him questioning everything he’s missing out on with his best friend.
warning(s): talk of a previous bad relationship, y/n’s ex body shamed her, mentions of alcohol, insecurity, smut, cursing
word count: 4.7k
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You’ve decided that 3 glasses of wine is your happy medium, but even a sip into the 4th and there’s no telling what you’ll do. 
So, naturally you were finishing up your 5th glass on Friday night while angrily scrolling through your exes instagram when you got what seemed to be an incredible idea. It was simply too tempting not to, your mind was feeling hazy which made your confidence skyrocket, and you truly did just look good. 
A day of pampering had left you in a black floor length silk robe with nothing but your favorite deep cherry red lingerie set underneath. Your face was bare and glowing after a refreshing and illuminating face mask, and your lips were left glossy and plump from a new scrub. 
You had posed in front of the floor length mirror in your living room, giggling between snaps until you had taken the perfect shot. It was classy but provocative, the dressing gown slipping from your shoulders exposing the lace of your bra and a tasteful amount of cleavage. You had also left the bottom open, allowing a clear shot of your thighs and the curve of your ass from where you sat on your knees. 
With a mischievous glint in your eyes you selected the picture into a message, typing a cheeky, “take a good look at everything you’re missing”  and sending it off to your ex (or so you thought). 
But you really couldn’t be blamed for your mistake, Cam and Cal were far too similar for your drunk brain to decipher the difference. You also couldn’t be blamed for the fact that you dozed off on the couch immediately after sending it, before you even had a chance to recognize your humiliating mistake. 
You were awoken by the ringing of your phone at around 9:00 am, way too early for your liking. Before even registering who it was, you brought the phone to your ear and groaned a sleepy, “hello,” 
“At your door.” a voice you recognized as your best friend responded. 
“M’coming” you said, scooting off the couch. On your way to the door you registered that you were still scantily covered, the robe falling off of you as you walked. You clutched it around you as you swung the door open to a wide eyed, Calum Hood. 
“G’morning.” he smirked, looking you up and down. 
“Shh” you hushed, pulling him in by the arm. “Why in the world are you here so early?”
He lightly laughed while taking a seat at the kitchen table, eyes following you while you moped over to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles. 
“Well,” he sighed as you handed him one. “I got a very interesting text last night and I figured I just had to come over and see, y’know everything I was missing.” he spoke in a teasing tone as he gestured a hand down your body.
You tugged your eyebrows together in confusion. There was something familiar about what he was saying, but not familiar enough for you to put the pieces together. 
“What are you talking about?” you questioned bringing the water bottle to your lips. 
Calum shrugged his shoulders, a smirk still glued to his face as he took out his phone and began looking for something. After a few seconds he extended his arm to hand you his phone. You accepted it and glanced down absentmindedly as your body slumped against the counter.  
The second your eyes hit the screen it all came back to you, your mouth fell open and you straightened out, suddenly very awake, not to mention very mortified. 
Calum on the other hand was buzzing. Actually, he had been ever since his phone dinged last night awakening him from his sleep. Well, buzzing and extremely, extremely sexually frustrated. 
When he first opened your message and saw the picture that would now be making a regular appearance in his wet dreams, he had nearly choked on his own breath. He knew that it was most likely a drunken mistake, and while that slightly saddened him it didn’t stop his dick from plumping up at the sight, straining uncomfortably against his boxers. He seriously debated wanking to the tempting image but decided against it, thinking it would be a gross violation of your privacy since it wasn’t even meant for him. Oh how he wished it was. Unfortunately that meant he had been sporting an exceptionally sensitive halfie since then. 
“Oh my god.” you groaned, sitting the phone down on the counter and covering your eyes in humiliation. “Cal I’m soooo sorry, I was drunk, and overly confident, and I meant to send this to Cam and now I’m just, I’m sorry.” you reiterated. 
‘Hey, don’t apologize on my account.” he countered. “Plus, you should be thrilled you sent it to me and not that asshole, doesn’t deserve ya.” 
“I know, you’re right. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m mortified though. S’bit ridiculous, get a little alcohol in my system and I have a god complex all of a sudden” you rambled, running your hands through your hair nervously. 
Calum stood and pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. 
“You think too much, y’know that?” he quipped. 
You turned your head, pressing a cheek against his sweater clad chest and mumbled, “Yea I’ve been known for that.” 
Calum softly chuckled at your words before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head and pulling apart. 
“S’really no big deal, y/n.” a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Besides I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”
“Calum!” you scolded, swatting a hand at his arm. 
He dodged your hit just in time and held his hands up in surrender before taking his seat again. 
“Why'd you let that dick bother you anyway? Y’know you’re way out of his league.” 
Your jaw clenched at the question, your mind wandering to every time you had come to Calum crying after your ex had done something to hurt you. Everytime he commented on your “stomach pudge” as he liked to call it, when you wore a tight dress to go out. Or when he would ask if you were really “that” hungry, even if you hadn’t eaten much at all. And each time you would feel absolutely wretched and end up sobbing in Calum’s arms, but refusing to tell him why you were so, so sad. 
“He texted me the other day y’know?” you muttered under your breath, while fiddling with the coffee machine. 
“Really? What’d he say?” Calum responded, watching your back with narrowed eyes. 
“Uh, he saw me the other night, when we were at that bar with the guys.” you said, shaky fingers pulling out a mug. 
“And?” he spoke flatly. 
“It’s stupid really,” you sniffled, willing your voice not to break. “He said I put on a few pounds, that he was glad he got out when he did.” your bottom lip traitorously jutted out as you turned to face him. 
“Fucking dick.” he hissed. 
Calum wasn’t necessarily proud of the violent images that flashed through his mind at the thought of that asshole finding yet another way to hurt you but, the sad little quiver of your lip allowed him to reason without a doubt that they were fair. 
Before you could even blink he was holding you again, arms impossibly tight around you. . 
“He’s wrong, y/n. Fuck, I don’t know how to even...he’s just so wrong.” he said softly, his hand rubbing your back reassuringly. 
“I know.” you whimpered, holding tears back. 
He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, arms still firm around your waist. 
“No you don’t. It’s...It really fucking pisses me off that he makes you feel like this. It’s like-fuck you’re just like-” he moved his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really are gorgeous.” 
Your heart fluttered at his words, and your whole body felt warm as you stared at his big brown eyes. His words felt sincere, everything about him felt so sincere. 
“Thank you, Cal.” 
He pulled you back into his chest, “Really wish I could just, like hug away all his bullshit.” 
“M’used to it.” you mumbled. 
“You don’t deserve any of it.” 
“Yea, well what can you do.” you sighed, moving out of his embrace. 
Calum’s eyes were still glued to you as you stirred a spoonful of sugar in your coffee. 
“I hope you don’t let anything he says get to you.” 
You let out a breath of exhaustion. 
Confidence wasn’t something that you used to struggle with. I mean sure, there were spouts of insecurity here and there but you knew your worth, and you considered yourself pretty, hot even. That had all changed a few months into your latest relationship. First it was the backhanded compliments which quickly turned into passive comments, and then outright cruel insults. People really underestimate the toll their words take on others, especially when the person that’s making you feel so ugly and worthless, is one that you adore and who’s supposed to adore you right back, no matter what. 
“I try but, he can’t just be making it all up.” you were ashamed. When did you become the girl that lets a guy affect how she sees herself? That just wasn’t you. 
“He is. He’s insecure and a douche. He was probably trying to destroy your confidence to the point that you felt like you couldn’t leave him.” Calum assured. “But you’re way too strong for him, dumped his sorry ass anyway.” 
You smiled gratefully at his words, taking a seat next to him. 
“Yea, so strong I tried to send him half naked pictures for reassurance.” 
Calum shook his head, “I wish you could see how hot you are.” 
Your eyes widened at the compliment, your head dropping to avoid his stare as blood rushed to your cheeks. 
“I’d be happy to reassure you whenever you want.” he continued, bumping his knee against yours under the table. 
“Doesn’t count.” you dismissed, before sipping your coffee. “You're my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me I’m pretty.” 
“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” he muttered back quietly, his expression dropping slightly. He hated when you deflected his compliments. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel good, and you made it very difficult for him when you blocked every swing he took at the wall of insecurity that Cam had built around you. He would kill Cam if he could. 
You let out an apologetic sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. 
“M’sorry, you’re right. I love you for that, the only thing keeping me sane.” 
Your heart squeezed as he hugged you back. 
Calum was perfect, he was sweet, and funny, and quite literally your favorite person on earth. Not to mention you had been hopelessly in love with him since practically the beginning of your friendship. But as his best friend you had heard over and over just how uninterested he was in a relationship. Everytime you would ask about his love life he would just respond, 
“I’m just not the boyfriend type, m’not cut out for it.” shrugging nonchalantly. 
Which you thought was laughable because anyone would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend, in fact sometimes you would let yourself pretend he was yours. 
Like,in a busy club with his hands on your hips, guiding you through the crowds. So close behind, you could feel each exhale on the back of your neck, as his eyes darted around the room to ensure there weren’t any potential threats to your safety, in the form of drunk overzealous flirts. Or after a night out when he got cuddly and clingy, and would find his way from the couch into your bed. You’d wake up with his cheek pressed against your chest and his arms snaked around your torso as he released soft breaths that caused goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. You’d let yourself imagine that you had this every morning and that he would wake up any minute to smother your face in kisses and tell you he loved you. And of course, here he was again this morning being so thoughtful and kind and everything you wanted in a boyfriend. And here you were again swimming in his praises and physically having to restrain yourself from kissing him. 
Begrudgingly, you pulled away and stood up. 
“Gonna get changed.” you spoke. 
“I’m making us breakfast.” Calum called as you walked away. You hummed in response and slipped into your room. 
Once in the privacy of your own room you quickly pulled on a pair of leggings and a hoodie before scurrying to the bathroom sink and splashing cold water on your face in hopes of ridding yourself of any romantic thoughts towards your best friend.
Although you weren’t aware, Calum was doing the very same thing just a few feet away. Internally reminding himself repeatedly that it was never gonna happen with you. He wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone yours. You didn’t want him that way and he could almost trick himself into believing that he was okay with that.
You hastily finished brushing your teeth before returning to the kitchen. You were greeted with the sight of Calum’s back, he stood over the toaster cutting an avocado and humming a song you didn’t recognize quietly to himself.  He looked over his shoulder as your footsteps approached. 
“Hungry?” he questioned. 
“You have no idea.” you affirmed, as he fixed a plate for you both. 
“Good. I was thinking we could watch something while we eat,” 
“Fine with me.” you responded, hoping he wouldn’t notice the distraction laced in your voice. Your focus had easily been stolen from the conversation to how easy it was to see his back muscles flex through the thin material of his jumper. 
But of course he did, it was Calum after all. 
“Y’alright?” he said, handing you a plate. 
“Uh, yep.” you rushed out. 
“Not still thinking about Cam, are you?” 
“No, not at all.” you answered honestly, walking to the couch, Calum trailing closely behind you. 
“Then what’s got you all flustered?” 
“You” you thought, taking a seat in the furthest corner. 
“I’m not flustered.” 
“Bullshit” he countered, sitting practically on top of you. 
You let out a huff, and motioned to the other  completely empty side of the couch. 
“Is there a reason we aren’t practicing personal space right now?” 
He laughed softly at your question and nuzzled closer into your side. 
“Yea, you’re all pouty, looks like you need a cuddle.” 
 “I’m really fine Cal.” you shoved him lightly but saw no results, he just scooched in even closer and bit into his toast. 
The two of you sat in silence while some newly released action movie played on your TV. Calum’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders keeping you tight to his side, and although you could’ve sworn that you had been in this exact same position hundreds of times, you felt as if this were the very first time. Every single one of your nerves were on fire and the warmth that had flooded your body was making you antsy. 
Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, you allowed your eyes to flutter close with a deep inhale. 
“You okay?” Calum whispered, dipping his head down slightly to reach your ear.
You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t trust your voice to protrude through your shaky exhales, settling for a subdued nod instead. 
“You sure?” his words were long and drawled out, despite your eyes being closed you knew his proximity from the feeling of his breath just behind your ear. 
Before you could speak up his hand secured itself just above your knee, and your muscles flexed involuntarily at the contact. 
“Relax, y/n” he continued, his thumb beginning to run repeatedly over a spot on your inner knee. 
Everything in your brain was screaming at you to excuse yourself, maybe even kick him out, anything to gain some space and hopefully some clarity from the cloud of sexual tension that was looming over the two of you and blurring boundaries at lightning speed. But you were essentially frozen in place, petrified that any movement would alert Calum to the way he was affecting you. 
Your head lolled back to rest on his forearm which was lying behind you on the couch and finally peeled your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. 
He watched you from the corner of his eye, taking note of every rise and fall of your chest, every thick swallow of your throat. 
If there was one thing Calum was well versed in, it was his ability to read you, he liked to think he knew you better than anyone else in the world. He could tell exactly how you were feeling just by watching you, your face, your breathing and he was more than shocked when he started getting the feeling you were no longer upset but something far more appealing. 
Were you turned on? Right here in his presence? The thought made blood rush to his dick, which twitched in his pants when another breathy sigh passed your lips. 
“What’re you thinking about, love?” 
Everything in you urged you to answer honestly, just tell him the truth. “You, I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.” But you couldn’t do that, so instead you deflected. 
“What’re you thinking about?” you countered, meeting his eyes. 
Calum questioned his next words very carefully, debating whether or not he could recover if he was wrong about what you were feeling and you shut him down. It was pointless though, he knew he would never recover from your rejection. He also knew that spontaneous combustion wouldn’t look very good on his tombstone and that’s exactly what would happen if he spent one more minute not kissing you. 
Fuck it. 
“That pretty little set you had on last night.” he confessed. 
That you weren’t expecting. 
A quiet whine rang from your throat and you were far too affected to feel embarrassed. 
And that did it, Calum was now impossibly hard in his pants, no doubt leaking precum onto his boxer briefs. He needed to get his hands on you, now. 
His hand started to slowly travel up your thigh, goosebumps rising on every centimeter they passed. 
“So gorgeous in red, aren’t ya y/n?”
“Cal,” you hissed when his thumb brushed the sensitivity of your inner thigh. 
“Mm.” he hummed. “It’d be pretty hard fo’me to stop right now, but I will if that’s what you want. Is that what you want, love?” 
He was sure he’d cry if he had to let go of you now, but he needed to hear you say it. 
“No, don’t wanna stop.” you whined, turning your body flush to his.
“Whaddya want then, baby? Hm?” You could feel his every word on the flushed skin of your neck as he leaned into the crook.
“Want you.” 
He could’ve came then and there. 
“Then I’m all yours.” he admitted before crashing his lips on yours. 
Your heart was in your stomach as his tongue entered your mouth, explorative and eager. He was too busy memorizing your taste to notice your fingers tugging at his sweater. You attempted to push it up desperate to feel his skin under your hands. You were able to pull the fabric up about halfway before they were blocked by his arms that were holding you close against him.
Calum laughed when you pulled apart from the kiss, giving him a disappointed look. 
“Want it off?” he teased. 
You couldn’t bother to be embarrassed when you nodded eagerly in response. He didn’t waste any time peeling the fabric off of his skin, and you were quick to lightly run a finger across the ink feather just below his collarbone. 
Now it was his turn to tug on your clothes, “Level the playing field?” 
You nodded, lifting your arms and allowing him to lift the sweatshirt over your head leaving your chest completely bare. Calum groaned at the sight of your tits, his hands quickly finding your waist and tugging you down to lay on your back in one swift motion. 
Once you were laid out in front of him he took the opportunity to explore the new skin. His hands left a lingering warmth as they dragged across your stomach and despite the kind words and endearing demeanor that he always upheld with you, you found yourself shying under his gaze, wanting to curl away from him. As your hands began to wrap around your stomach in an attempt to cover yourself up he quickly pushed them away, locking them in place on either side of you. 
“Wanna see everything baby, all of you.” he cooed in your ear before nipping at the lobe. 
His kisses began to travel down your neck, sucking a few marks to your collar bones and the surrounding areas. When his fingers grazed over a fresh bruise in the dip just between your neck and shoulders you hissed lightly. 
“You look so pretty marked up for me. All mine, aren’t you baby? Not Cam’s, mine. Say it.” 
“Yours, Cal.” you admitted, feeling your body sink further into the couch. You had never felt drunk off of someone’s words before and the experience was leaving you sputtering, completely compliant to your best friend. 
He hummed contently at your confession, his large hands gripping at your hips, before slowly peeling your leggings off.
“Y’feel so good in my hands, like you were made for me.” his thumbs poking at the soft skin, just beneath your panties. 
The feeling of his hands so close to where you needed them, but not quite there was driving you crazy. 
“Cal, please.” you begged. 
He groaned before tugging at the cotton covering you. “Cam’s a fucking idiot, y’know that? He had the prettiest girl in the world and treated her like shit. I’d never do that, wanna worship you baby.” 
It was ridiculous how overwhelmed his words were leaving you, all desperate and squirming. As his fingers met the soaked expanse of your cunt you couldn’t hold back the throaty moan it elicited. 
A pornographic sigh followed close behind, one that made Calum want to pinch himself to ensure he wasn’t in the midst of a haunting dream. 
“Soaked f’me darling.” he mused, running his fingers up and down your folds to completely coat you in your arousal. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking your hips up desperate for friction. 
Tutting while shaking his head, he used one hand on your lower stomach to press you back down to the couch. 
“Stay still for me won’t you, love?” he cooed, continuing to run his fingers over your core lightly. 
When you bobbed your head up and down in agreement he lifted your leg to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your calf. 
“Hm, good girl.” he praised, softly laying your leg back down. 
Calum hovered above you, dipping his head down every so often to peck at your chest, his fingers still unrelenting. The knot in your lower stomach tightened every second that passed and you felt like you could scream at any second, yearning to be full. 
Calum felt like he could burst any minute himself but was determined to make this experience the best of your life. He wanted to give you something to remember, a reason to want more. 
Your soft moans and frustrated grunts alerted him to your neediness and he was just about ready to give in for the both of you. 
“What do you need from me, baby?” he said against your shoulder before peppering kisses across your collar bones. 
You could only respond with an airy moan when his fingers found your clit. 
“Hm? My fingers?” You shook your head aggressively. He knew exactly what you wanted, the tease. 
“No? Want my mouth?” he teased further, leaving an opened mouth kiss in between your tits. 
“Cal,” you sighed. “Fuck me, please.”
He groaned at your words, nipping lightly at the skin before ridding himself of his pants. 
“You’re a fucking dream, y’know that?” he praised, desperately searching for a condom in his pants. When he finally located one he held it up to you as if it were a prized possession, smiling proudly at his own preparedness. 
He hastily freed himself from the constraints of his boxers and rolled the condom on, never once taking his eyes off of the blissful expression on your face. 
“Ready?” he questioned, his tip lightly pressing at your entrance. You nodded and sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the stretch, your eyes falling closed in the process. 
When a few seconds went by and nothing happened you opened your eyes to find Calum staring down at you in awe. 
“Cal,” you whined. “what’re you doing?” 
Your words seemed to break him from his trance, he shook his head and muttered an apology to you. 
“Sorry, fuck you’re pretty. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 
“Then stop waiti-” your words were cut off by a sharp hiss that couldn’t have been prevented as his length finally pressed into you. 
“Fuck.” Calum groaned his head falling back. You felt too good around him, seriously he was fucked, completely ruined for you. 
You felt the exact same as your silky moans filled the room. You had never been filled this good and you questioned how you had gone so long without this. 
“M-move” you sighed, clenching around him. 
You could hear his breath catch at the feeling and he grunted out a strained, “Need a minute.” 
He held himself in place for a few more seconds until his breaths began to even out once again before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in. 
You yelped, pulling your lip between your teeth in hopes to drown the sound. 
He continued slamming into you at an unrelenting pace, taking notice of each time your eyes would roll back when he brushed against your g-spot. He could write a book about how good you looked all fucked for him. 
As his thrusts grew closer together you could feel your release creeping up on you.  
“Cal, need’ta cum.” you stuttered out. 
His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer to him as his head poked at that spot again. 
“Go on baby, let go.” he encouraged, willing himself to hold out a little longer as your walls fluttered around him. 
Once you had came it only took him about three more thrusts before he was painting the condom with his release, groaning your name as his hand searched for yours to intertwine them as he came down from his own high. 
  His body flopped next to yours on the couch, both of you struggling to fit next to each other in such a small space, not that either of you minded the close quarters. 
Your fingers remained laced together as you caught your breath, Calum peppering kisses to your shoulder and mumbling praises into your skin. 
“You’re an angel. God, I just- I love you.” he said, causing your head to snap in his direction. 
He looked like a deer in headlights when you asked for him to repeat himself. 
“I love you?” he obliged.
“Is it a question?” 
“No, I’m just not used to saying it.” he admitted, vulnerability clear in his eyes. 
You wanted to kiss away the worried crease in his forehead but instead pressed your lips to his, pulling apart a fraction of an inch to speak after a few seconds.
“I love you too.” you ensured. 
Calum eyes widened, not expecting you to say it back, at least not so soon. He had so much he wanted to say to you but figured all of it could be summed up by another kiss to your soft lips. So he closed the distance once again, using a bit more force this time in hopes it would convey the strength of his feelings for you.
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cloud9in · 3 years
Text
Promises (Poppy x MC) Part (2/?)
Read Part ONE (summary for fic is there)
ITS BEEN A MINUTE. @iamsimpforpoppy I hope you’re still around to read :P I love this story lol. Hope you guys do too!!!
Word Count (2.8k)
Bea and Poppy’s relationship became official a month after their initial meeting. One would say they moved quickly, too quickly. But every love story is different. This one in particular seemed to have little to none flaws, if you ignored the fact that Bea was promoted to Carter’s right hand woman in the Southside Spades.
 They did end up having that conversation after all.
 “…Are you sure Carter? I mean this is a huge deal and a special role-“
 “If I didn’t think you were capable you wouldn’t be here right now Goldilocks.”
 Carter winked and clinked his half empty beer bottle against Bea’s, who surprisingly had a nearly full bottle. He took note of the abnormality. 
 The blonde instinctively rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Okay but that name has to go. We need codenames……ooooh how about bimbo and himbo.” 
 “I’m guessing…..no, hoping I’m the himbo?!” Carter comments as he promptly tries to stop the laugh escaping from his lips.
 “Mmmmmmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”
 They share a laugh and Bea feels Carter’s gaze latch onto her in her peripherals. She could sense the shift of energy in the space between them, it almost felt uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt with Carter. “I never asked you if you were okay with such a role. If you aren't, I understand completely, I just want the best for you.”
 The blonde eyes soften at his comment and she looks at him, “never doubted that, where is this going though because you never express your feelings like a normal human being.”
 He pulls on the strings of her hoodie until it completely caves around her face, burying her whole.
 “Hey asshole!” 
 “That’s for talking too much.”
 Bea yanks her hoodie open and sticks her tongue out in a mock expression. “Oh boohoo. Poppy literally says the same thing, I don’t get it. I talk, it’s a problem. I don’t talk, it’s an even BIGGER problem. Damn a girl can’t ever exist in peace.”
 Carter places his bottle flat on the table and studies the blonde’s face. 
 She kept rambling on about her new girlfriend and the gang leader didn’t know it was possible to feel happy yet anxious at the same time. He was aware of when they entered the talking stage, went on their first date, and finally became official, because Bea told him everything. As much as the experience of being in a real relationship was new to her, Bea looked up to him and somehow she knew Carter would give her the best guidance possible. 
 It didn’t stop him from worrying. Like an older brother would. He feared the two would mix, and everyone knows that love and crime will eventually combust. He is no stranger to it.  
 “Bea.”
 “Did you know she stole one of my hoodies and actually won’t give it back?? What am I supposed to do, just take it? No she’d murder me.”
 “Jackson.”
 Her voice slowly dies down after sensing the seriousness in his tone. She takes a sip of her beer to ease the silence that sat in the air, and Carter responds shortly after.
 “You know I trust you with my life right? You’re very important to me, kid.” 
 “I know.”
 Guilt was a feeling he chose to lock away in an unbreakable box and bury six feet deep. There couldn’t be guilt in a lifestyle like this. But Bea was his only exception. And she was slowly bringing that box back up to the surface. 
 “I need you to promise me that you won’t let these two worlds collide.”
 “Carter….”
 “One of you will get hurt. And I won’t forgive myself if it’s you.”
 He leaves Bea at the table, the remnants of his comment still replaying in her head. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Poppy on her lockscreen. 
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘 
 The blonde smiles unconsciously and opens the message to respond.
 I’m missing you like crazy. I have a special surprise for you.
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- You know I highly dislike surprises, just tell me. 
 And ruin the surprise? You must be crazier than I thought. 
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Jackson.
 Patience babe…tomorrow it is. 
 Bea clicks her phone shut and slips it back into her pocket before downing the rest of the beer. 
***
“You know your hand on my ass only makes them stare even more Jackson?”
 Bea bites her lips and gropes the blonde’s plump backside shamelessly while slowly whispering into her ear.
 “That’s the point, princess.”
 Poppy shivers almost instantly at the boldness. “Is this the surprise you were talking about?” Bea doesn’t answer, instead trailing her hand up Poppy’s skirt. This was definitely not the time and place for such behavior but she was clearly still learning everything about her girlfriend. 
 And it definitely felt good to call her that.
 “Since when did you get so brazen? You know you’re exactly the type of person my daddy told me to stay away from.”
 Bea laughs at that statement and wraps her arm around the blonde’s waist, “yeah? And why’s that?”
 “Well I can’t ask him now, he might rough you up and that’s my job.” 
 Poppy could feel the stares of everyone burning into them, but she could only focus on the blonde cuddled up against her. The shorter girl wouldn’t call herself an attention whore, but she sure loved the PDA that Bea projected without a care. It felt nice to be genuinely admired in public rather than putting on a mask everyday. 
 But it’s safe to say that Poppy preferred all the handsy stuff to happen in private. 
 “Do you want to grab dinner with me tonight Pops?”
 “Am I picking the place?”
 “…Yes.”
 “Then yes.”
 Bea rolls her eyes at the blonde’s downright shady self but smiles nevertheless. 
 “Now don’t cancel on me out of the blue. I will not be thrilled about it.”
 “Shouldn’t I be telling you this? Your dad always has something going on in his business that somehow has to involve you too.”
 Poppy sighs and glances over at Bea, “well you know I’ll have to take over eventually. Especially since I’m legally allowed to handle deals now.”
 “I hate that word. Legal. Ugh.” 
 The shorter girl scoffs and plants her hands on her hips, “yeah I bet you do.”
***
Bea dragged open her closet in search of clothes for dinner tonight but the dinging noise of a text distracts her. 
 C-Dog🖤- Need you tonight. Something came up, meet us at the garage.
Bea wanted to thank the gods up above that she didn’t promise Poppy that she’d show up for dinner. But that wasn’t going to save her from the fury of the blonde. Good thing it can’t get worse than that, right….?
Only it was. And Poppy will probably beat her up herself, if she wasn’t dead by the next day. 
Bea’s mind and heart races as she digs her brain for a proper excuse to tell her girlfriend, but is very unsuccessful. She’s good at drug dealing though. 
 Going with the good ole truth never really hurt right?
 Baby I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got held up with the gang. I know I’m an asshole, I’ll keep in touch I swear. 
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- What else could I expect from my gang banger girlfriend 🙄 please stay safe..
 You know I always do.
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Do I? We need to talk about this tomorrow.
 Of course Pops.
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Call me every chance you get or I swear I’ll track you and trust me you do not want me to do that.
 Yeah she definitely doesn’t. Especially since Carter sounded frantic over the phone. The last thing Bea needed was a paranoid girlfriend, so she played it cool like always. 
 Just simple stuff baby girl, talk soon.
 ***
“…What do you mean it’s gone?! So where is it? Do you know what this means Carter??”
 The gang leader sighs frustratingly, rubbing his eyes in efforts to gain some stability. “The product was here, and now it is not. Which can only mean it was stolen. And when I find out which son of a bitch did it, they’re dead.”
 “In the meantime, we are dead”, Bea emphasizes wildly. “This is the Red Raven gang we’re talking about. If they get any inclination that we lost their drugs, they’ll kill and replace us. No mercy. None.”
The blonde paces back and forth trying not to think about buying a plane ticket to Timbuktu. 
Carter approaches Bea and plants his hands on her shoulder, “breathe Jackson. You are my partner. The leader of this gang. So get it out of your system and start being rational.”
 The blonde lets her shoulders sag as she inhales and exhales in place for a while. The minute she’s grounded she catches Carter’s gaze and her eyes light up. “List. I need a list of whoever went in the room with all of the product. We need to narrow it down.”
***
“Jackson you’re a fucking genius.”
 “It’s called having common sense but I’ll take the praise. It’s the only one I’m getting from you anyways.”
 Carter resisted the urge to pick a fight with the younger girl, because finding stolen drugs and not getting killed seemed like a much better idea. 
 Bea figured out that Henry, one of the newly recruited members of SS was a thief, or maybe just a crackhead. Same thing. He was the last to be in that room so all eyes were on him, and guns.
 “Heyyy buddy. Henry right?”
 The shorter man trembled at the sight of a gun lodged right into his mouth. “Mmmm!”
 “Oh I’m sorry, did you want to say something? Here let me just”, Bea clicks the gun which only causes the thief to panic even more. It was almost pitiful. 
 “Alright lay off the poor sucker.” 
 Bea pulls the gun out of his mouth and sits down on a stool in front of Henry with a grin. “So…where is the stash darling?” 
 He points almost immediately to a built in storage locker with a shaky finger. 
 “Ohhh well that was so easy Henry! Glad you could comply. You should tell your friends to be more like you. But…between me and you, they might already be dead”, Bea whispers that last part slowly, smirking when Henry’s lip quivers violently. 
 “Please just do it already! Why are you guys waiting?”
 Bea raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced over at Carter who scanned the man’s face intensely. “I guess he wants to die? Talk about kinks I mean come on”
 “No.”
 Carter reaches his arm out towards Bea but never takes his eyes off Henry. The blonde watches in confusion until she realizes the thief is looking behind her, and so is Carter.
 “It’s a setup Bea, duck!”
 She dived for the ground quicker than lightning as a bullet flies through the air, leaving a trail of dust behind. Carter ducks for cover as well and starts firing rounds towards the men who snuck up on them. He managed to hit three of them but one grabs Bea by the leg and drags her against the rough concrete. 
 “Son of a- get your dirty hands off of my Dr. Martens. My girlfriend bought me these!”
 A swift kick to the face shut the blonde up real quick but she manages to recoil and send the man sprawling backwards into a row of barrels. 
 Carter guns him down and Bea finds her footing, pistol in hand and a thirst for revenge. But they never stopped coming. 
 Her and Carter were left battered and bruised, but alive. Their product was gone again though. But atleast they were alive. Carter told her that it was a theft mission primarily and neither of them were meant to die. But it only made Bea wonder who those people were.
 And why were they kept alive?
***
“Beatriz Naomi Jackson what the actual fuck?!”
 “Oh not the middle name…”
 Bea tries to avoid Poppy’s killer gaze as she surveys the damage that had been done to her girlfriend’s torso, legs, and face. 
 The strawberry blonde could barely mutter a word. Her mouth opened and closed in brief shock before collapsing next to the injured girl. 
 Bea could see the tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, which contrasted her porcelain skin. “Poppy…are you crying? I..please don’t..”
 “What do you expect me to do Bea? It kills me to see you hurt like this. Who did it? Tell me!” The blonde chokes on her own words as her hands hovers cautiously over Bea’s wounds, afraid to make her feel pain.
 “No I can’t tell you. I mean…I didn’t expect this to happen. It was a setup and we were outnumbered-“
 “We need to get you to a hospital Bea oh my god.”
 The blonde knew that she couldn’t go there. Not with the cops on the scene of the shootout, and actively looking for the people involved. Aka her and Carter. He told her to lay low and heal up, but she didn’t expect Poppy to be sitting on her bed waiting for her when she got home. The initial look on her face made Bea regret ever choosing this life. 
 She regrets it ever since being with Poppy. But it’s like a drug, once you start it’s hard to stop. 
 “I’ll call my father, he has the best doctors available and we’re gonna get your the right treatment and-“ 
 Poppy immediately cuts off, her eyebrows scrunching up until she realizes something. “Wait…what do you mean you were outnumbered Bea?” 
 Bea swallows heavily, praying that this conversation couldn’t escalate further, but that isn’t the case. 
 “Bea, answer me”
 “It..it was just me and Carter. We didn’t think there would be an ambush. We had just gone there to get goods we lost.”
 “And where is Carter? Does he know you’re like this right now? Did he leave you, I swear to god Bea if he left you…” Poppy’s voice cracks as her whole body shivers in violent waves. 
 Bea pulls her girlfriend in for a hug even though it causes every inch of her body to sting harshly. It was the comfort that she needed though. Watching Poppy breakdown over the sight of her was too much, and she began to contemplate everything. 
 “Pops listen to me, I cannot go to the hospital right now. There are cops looking for us.” The strawberry blonde stares at her until she understands the velocity of Bea’s words. 
 “Fine. But there will be a doctor that will come to treat you at my house. And you’re coming, I don’t want to hear it.” 
 Bea knew not to protest that. It was quite obvious this whole incident has left both parties distraught and she didn’t want to try and tell Poppy how to feel. 
 “Just tell me something. Are you in immediate danger? Is someone trying to harm you right now.”
 The blonde chose her words carefully. Because even after coming home beaten to a pulp, she still couldn’t tell the love of her life the full truth. 
 “No Poppy, they just wanted the drugs. They got what they wanted. I’m not in danger.”
 For now.
 “I will be okay.”
 I hope.
 “Don’t lie to me Jackson. I can’t do this if you lie. You promised me you wouldn’t get to the point where you’d have to choose between me and the gang.”
 “I know Poppy…I-“
 “You promised.”
 “And I’m going to keep that promise-“
 “Yeah the hell you are. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t ever come home like this again. You’re going to get yourself killed before we even start our life together. Our future.”
 Bea sucks in a breath which punctures her chest. She couldn’t tell if the injuries or Poppy’s words had caused that terrible ache. “Our…Wait I..”
 “I love you Jackson. I…don’t care if you think it’s too early to say that. I don’t care if I sound too cheesy for a mean girl. I love kissing you and feeling the laughter run through your body when we hug. I love being the reason you smile. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back. I just..I needed you to know-“
 “I love you too. Probably maybe from the moment I met you.”
 Poppy’s eyes seemed to glisten once again and this time there was no sadness etched into the shape. She smiled a pure smile and wrapped her arms around Bea in a tight hug. 
 She captures her lips in a searing kiss that leads to a trail of kisses down the strawberry blonde’s neck, dip of her collarbone, and chest. Bea kisses her until her chest gives out from exhaustion and pain.
 “Then you have to promise that this won’t happen again.” 
 “I promise.”
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTES: They’re gonna be fineeeee, right guys??? Graduation next chapter woooo.
Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme  @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog
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captain039 · 3 years
Text
We can take care of each other PART 3
Hank x reader x Connor
Warnings: ABO, poly relationship, swearing, police things, Intimate, sexual, harassment, Daddy Hank, anxiety, angst
Previous chapter <-
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PART 3
You awoke to Hanks phone ringing and him cursing it as he answered.
“What?” He grumbled as you heard a distant voice. You hadn’t moved from your spot on Connor. You yawned and rolled onto your back stretching.
“Did you sleep well detective?” He asked and you nodded dazed.
“Can’t Reed handle it the pricks there” Hank snapped.
“Yeah, whatever” he hung up and laid back down.
“Assholes” he muttered and you chuckled softly. He laid down with a soft thud from the mattress. You still cuddled into Connor he must’ve put his heaters on or something because you were toasty warm.
“Did you put your heaters on?” You asked.
“Is it too warm?” Connor asked and you shook your head.
“No, just making me not wanna move” you chuckled.
“Fine by me” Hank sighed as you heard Sumo bark.
“There isn’t enough room buddy” Hank said and you heard Sumo whine.
“Aw, Sumo” you sat up slowly crossing your legs and pet the bed lightly. He jumped up, in your face licking and making weird noises. You laughed trying to control the big beast as he finally laid down.
“What time is it?” You asked frowning.
“It’s currently 2:33 pm” Connor said.
“Geez” you said realising you had napped for a while.
“You were rather exhausted detective” Connor said and you flushed. You glanced to Hank who smirked almost proud and you glared slightly huffing. Hank was relaxed for once, a small smile on his lips, eyes closed as he leant against the head rest, his breathing even and his scent inviting. You leant back to lean against his side and he chuckled softly.
“My phone on your table?” You asked and he grunted handing it to you.
“Thanks” you said opening it. You had a few messages and emails but ignored them for now as you scrolled through social media. Connor sat up also, stiff in his movements and not relaxing back, you guess he didn’t need to relax back his body wouldn’t hurt. Hanks arm draped around your middle while Connor stared.
“What are you doing?” Hank asked.
“In a sense I’m making a memory” Connor said.
“I can record certain things and save them” he added.
“You show this to anyone-“ you elbowed him gently.
“Thank you detective” Connor smiled and you smirked.
“Great” Hank sighed.
“Two against the old grumpy alpha” he grumbled and you laughed. Connor cracked a grin, laughing wasn’t his strongest suit yet.
The day went on with you staying in Hanks bed. You had relaxed and calmed down after what had happened this morning, you were content in the soft blanket and leaning against Hank. Connor made you some food which was nice before sitting down again. It was going smoothly till your job demanded attention.
You all headed to the crime scene three stabbings in a club. Upon entering the room you gulped it was a private room on the sex side of the club. One android, two humans. The android was in the corner looking beat up and ruined by a bat or something, then stabbed, the two humans were on the other wall with stab wounds on their chest area. You got their identity’s, the android was called Kyla the humans were Mason and Fay. Kyla was designed as a sex robot and stayed that way voluntarily. The other two were also workers here Fay a beta and Mason an omega.
“What you got Connor?” Hank called as Connor stood by the door analysing.
“It was the android that went first, hit with the bat then stabbed on that wall, the other two tried to stop it, signs of struggle, possible fight before being stabbed themselves” Connor said as he walked to the android and looked over it.
“I can probe it’s memory to see what happened” he said.
“Go ahead” Hank said leaving the room to brief. You looked over the body’s again, there was a fight, something had gone very wrong or the killer just got his victims in one room perfectly.
“The android wasn’t supposed to be here” Connor spoke.
“How come?” You asked as he stood.
“The android came in to check on the suspicious noise before being dragged in and beaten to death” you sighed nodding, poor thing.
“Any traces where our killer went or who they are?” You asked.
“There are traces of DNA under the victims nails, matching a Gen Collins” you nodded.
“Send me her information” you said grabbing a spare tablet. You looked through her profile, 30, alpha female, she was tall and built like she was in military. You glanced through her past, she was in military, got kicked out for violent tendencies. She’s been prescribed by a doctor for anger management medication and therapy though she never took.
“We got one anger issued alpha on the run “ you sighed to Hank.
“Yep” he grumbled.
“We got any leads?” He asked as Connor came over.
“Not yet” Connor said and you and Hank nodded.
“Right come on” Hank said to you and Connor and you both followed.
Back at the station you all went through files hoping to find her whereabouts, she was no doubt dangerous and pissed about something.
You were at your desk for hours, it was nighttime when you decided to look outside. You stopped your task and leant back stretching. Your back popped slightly and you sighed hunching back over before sitting up. Connor came over to you and you gave him your attention.
“Are you alright detective?” He asked a slight frown on his face.
“I’m alright” you smiled.
“I need food and a shower though” you said yawning.
“I’ll drive you home” Hank said from his desk.
“You got anything?” You asked talking about the case.
“A whole lot of fuck all” he grumbled shutting down the screen and stretching.
“I need a drink” he grumbled making you chuckle.
“Home it is” you said shutting off your screen also and standing.
Hank dropped you off like he said, Connor following you in your house again while Hank drove off.
“He’ll be ok, won’t be?” You asked hanging your coat up.
“I do believe the Lieutenant has cut down on drinking, so, yes he will” Connor assured and you nodded. You shook your head laughing slightly as you took out a quick microwave meal.
You sat and ate happy to get some food in your stomach even if it tasted horrible. Connor sat and watched TV, well at least you think he was.
“I’m gonna have a shower” you called placing your rubbish in the bin.
“Ok” was all Connor said and you nodded.
You washed and dried before getting dressed into your PJ’s, Connor was still on the couch. You stood by him but he hadn’t taken notice.
“Connor?” You asked, he blinked and looked to you.
“Sorry detective” he said.
“It’s alright” you chuckled.
“You ok?” You asked.
“Yes, just going through some files is all, I apologise” you shook your head and sat by him.
“Don’t apologise” you smiled.
“Find anything?” You asked curiously.
“It wasn’t for the case” he admitted and you frowned curious.
“What was it for?” You asked head tilting.
“If you wanna tell me” you added. If you didn’t know any better you’d say the blue in his cheeks represented a blush.
“I am required to fulfill my roll in taking care of you and Hank both emotionally and physically” you flushed a little as he spoke.
“You don’t have to take care of us, we take care of each other” you said.
“It’s not all on you, I’m just not good with this” you sighed.
“It’s new to me and though Hank was-“ you flushed remembering what happened earlier.
“Eager, we’re gonna have some issues” you mumbled.
“What issues?” Connor asked frowning slightly.
“Well me, I overthink overthinking, Hank Is insecure even if he doesn’t admit it, I’m trying to please both you and Hank, Hanks the only one with experience!” you rambled a bit realising you hadn’t thought this through.
“And Hanks distant” you sighed sagging into the couch.
“Maybe it was a bad idea” you said sadly.
“Y/n” Connor said and you looked to him, he rarely said your name.
“This wasn’t a bad idea, this will take time to get used to and figure our mission out together” you smiled at him.
“Though I don’t understand many things I am willing to learn” he added.
“And try” he said another blue tint to his cheeks.
“May I kiss you detective?” He asked and you smiled as your heart pounded. You nodded and he leant forward, you closed your eyes as he pressed his synthetic lips to yours. It felt like real ones only smoother, you hummed softly leaning up body eager again. He pulled back eyes in a daze as you smiled slightly.
“I have to return to cyber life for some adjustments soon” he said and you frowned.
“Are you ok?” You asked worried.
“I’m ok, they’re going to add features to my body and system” you frowned.
“I’ll be better equipped like a male alpha” you flushed at his words and leant back into the seat avoiding his eyes.
“Oh” you stuttered out.
“When- when is this?” You asked.
“Tomorrow” you nodded embarrassed.
“How long will you be gone?” You asked.
“Only for the night” you nodded again.
“Ok” you said softly.
You frowned as your phone buzzed. You answered and frowned when you heard a familiar voice.
“Jimmy?” You questioned and he sighed confirming. Connor frowned also leaning in.
“Can you come get Hank please” you glanced to Connor at his words.
“Mans messed up again” your heart sank.
“Im on my way” you hung up.
You quickly got dressed sort of and drove to Jimmy’s. Connor followed you as you walked in spotting Hank in the corner slumped over.
“What happened?” You asked Jimmy.
“He got drunk started babbling on about you and Connor before breaking down and passing out” you processed and sighed.
“Thanks” you muttered going to him.
“Hank” you said as you slid into the booth next to him.
“Hank” you dragged out. He gurgled out a sound and you raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps I should support him to the car” Connor said.
“Yep” you agreed getting out of the seat.
“Hank” Connor said and Hank grumbled. He helped the man up who groaned and grumbled eyes opening and closing. He finally focused on you, your arms were on your hips.
“Why’re you glaring at me?” He said like a child.
“We’re going home” you rolled your eyes handing Jimmy some money as a tip.
“I’m sorry” you said and he shrugged.
As you drove Hank home the man grumbled the whole way there. You unlocked your door before taking him to the bathroom.
“Hank” you said as Connor sat him down on the toilet. The alpha looked around taking in his surroundings before taking you and Connor in.
“Fuck” Hank toppled over and you jumped back a bit.
You looked away as he threw up in the toilet. You held down your stomach and sighed going to get him a drink while Connor watched him.
The toilet flushed and you went back in with a glass of water.
“Thanks” he mumbled sipping it. He leant back against the cold tiles as did you as you sat down staring at him.
“Stop staring” Hank sighed.
“Hank we’re concerned” Connor said.
“Well be unconcerned” he slurred.
“Hank” you sighed sadly.
“What?” He scoffed slightly.
“You’re not my mum” he chuckled at his joke.
“No I’m your partner” you said.
“That’s unfortunate for you” he smirked.
“Hank” Connor said almost in warning.
“Shut up tin can” Hank huffed.
“Look at you both sad faced over me, it’s depressing shit man” he sighed.
“You know you’re probably better off leaving me here and going off with Connor” although he was drunk his words hurt.
“Hank-“ you said startled.
“I mean the fuck you want me for? Disgusting old, alpha, pervert with a pretty omega and perfect robocop over here” you bit back tears.
“I can’t give you a family, can’t give you what you need” you felt a tear roll don your face as he continued.
“I don’t want a family I just want you two” you said taking a deep breath.
“Maybe you’re fucked in the head too” you flinched at his words and clenched your jaw, he was just drunk.
“The fucked amigos!” He cheered and you glared at the floor.
“Hank you’ve upset the detective and me” Connor said.
“Yeah? And?” You stood and quickly left at his words.
You curled up in your bed tears rolling down your face. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want the three of you to be together, your alpha didn’t want you or Connor. You hugged your pillow tightly before a light knock came.
“Detective” it was Connor who called.
You didn’t answer so he let himself in.
“I’ve let the Lieutenant rest on your pull out couch, he’s unconscious I’m afraid” you sniffled and nodded.
“He’s just drunk” he muttered.
“Is he?” You turned to face him. Connor couldn’t answer.
“He doesn’t want me or you! Or us! Maybe I am fucked in the head, we’re all fucked in the head” you cried.
“I’m stupid for ever dreaming” you laid down again, back to Connor as you cried. Your mind was going wild you couldn’t handle the rejection he had just said. You tried to reason but there wasn’t anything to reason with.
The bed shifted but you didn’t move as Connor laid behind you. He slipped his arm under your head and another around your waist. You clutched your pillow tightly and cried softly.
Your tears dried and stuck to your face, your eyes were droopy as you tried to stay awake.
“Sleep” you heard Connor mutter as he pulled the blanket over you both. Your eyes closed and you sighed letting darkness take over.
Next chapter ->
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sapphic-sasuke · 3 years
Note
i just binged ur meta and this one on danzo is where i hoped the story would go after the pain arc when i first watched shippuden...
hope u don’t mind if i ramble here...i think naruto as a series kind of tried to have its cake and eat it too? like we get these hard moral conundrums (pain asking naruto what he thinks will bring peace) and also these cookie cutter talk-no-jutsu moments about conquering hAtReD which is so frustrating...it just had so much potential (guess that’s why i’m still bitter about it so many years after i first watched it lol) and whenever the main cast is presented with ideological conflict it’s just half-assedly resolved (hyuuga subplot grr)
out of curiousity, do u have any thoughts on how the shinobi system could actually be reformed? I haven’t read boruto but from the small bit i’ve absorbed through tumblr, naruto’s way didn’t work out at all. and what do you think of nagato’s magic nuke idea? whenever i think back to naruto now somehow nagato seems like the most reasonable dude, magic nukes are at least a bit more realistic than whatever madara and obito’s plan was.
okay one more thing do you have any fic recs for a sasuke who actually goes on to start revolution? and the system gets criticised and broken down? i’m forever salty that the vague arc that was forming where suigetsu and sasuke were wandering to different orochimaru bases and freeing the experiments didn’t lead to something more concrete. (i hope i’m remembering this right, it’s been like six years since i watched that part so >_<)
(sorry if this is choppy and disjointed, goddamn tumblr crashed just when i was gonna send the ask so i tried to reconstruct it from memory ugh)
((i was gonna end it here but i stumbled upon an itachi appreciation post rn so naturally i have to get a rant out of my system...people really try to glorify child soldier itachi committing genocide on his own family on the orders of his corrupt military dictator leaders lol. btw what is ur itachi characterisation? we see so little of him that’s not an “act” or from sasuke’s eyes, getting a handle on him is so hard.))
damn this ask got long...sorry for spamming ur inbox 🥺 have a good day!
hello! and thank you! im happy my danzo analysis was one you enjoyed
i completely agree that there were wonderful points in naruto that were simply discarded for no viable reason and with the potential it had? crazy honestly same here i think it's why i love the show so much because the potential it had to properly address these issues was there and we almost got that through sasuke but then he was "corrected" by naruto and the main cast. the conflict is so half-assed, and it makes me think... why bring up these issues that mirror real life (genocide, slavery etc) but then.. not ever properly resolve it?
nagato's one does seem the most reasonable tbh although if i were to look at canon options, id lean towards sasuke's goal. i think the revolutionary ideas were made very violent and "extreme" on purpose to have clear villains in place. i dont think an actual revolution by sasuke would be so... i do think that the shinobi system cant be reformed, only destroyed. reforming means compromising with the same shinobi who were keeping the system in place eg the kages etc. naruto is resolved by saying if we all fight against hatred things will be okay but that doesnt address how the "hatred" is getting intensified by the system itself that promotes violence for the sake of your village and for economic gain.
fics for sasuke starting a revolution are... very hard to find. i have some good anti konoha ones that are sasuke centric like this and this . i think the second one is building up to a revolution and its really good. as for my chosen characterisation of itachi. well if we are thinking canon wise, i have a oneshot where its mostly in itachi's pov hejfadsjdj if youre curious that fic is how i see itachi. not canon wise i have some chosen characterisations of itachi that i find very fun like this
(i feel you. i hate seeing people glorify itachi's actions. you're free to like him, even i do, but the moment you begin to try and defend genocide, torturing your own brother and all that disturbing jingoism is where i draw the line. itachi being used as a political pawn for the elders is an explanation, not a defence. he still decided to do it.)
and dont be sorry i love receiving asks :)))) have a nice day <333
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miracle-sham · 3 years
Text
Yet So Poison Entwined We Fracture.
| {Jasonette July 2021, Saturday Challenge 1: Hurt No Comfort} |
| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |
| It all went wrong so quickly. Marinette thought she could trust Jason, that he'd never betray her. And Jason thought the same. But with a truth-serum turned poison seeping through their veins, neither had thought to look for the purple feathers. |
| Word Count: 1,706. |
———
| A/N: I'll try and keep this short and sweet but it's nice to dip back into writing for Maribat, I really missed it whilst I was gone. Also I've now got a author's channel in MGI where I sometimes put title sneak peaks, snippets, and random au ramblings, so y'know feel free to pop into the channel and have a gander if you'd fancy! And one last thing, keen eyes may have noticed I've added a Spotify Playlist Link, it contains all the songs I listened to when working on this oneshot, if you're curious! |
| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics or a specific Au, then feel free to send me a dm and or ask! |
| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |
———
Marinette staggers back, clutching at her bloodied side as the world spins for a moment and everything blurs. Breath catches in her throat as a sharp pang of betrayal pierces her heart, tears springing to the corners of her eyes unbidden. Whimpering, she barely manages to cry out, “J–Jason?”
Heartbreak coating his name like the truth serum-poison making its way through her system at this very moment.
She makes an awful choking noise and collapses to her knees, scrunching her face up and wheezing. Barely is she able to keep her eyes open, fixated on staring at someone she thought she could trust.
Smirking lazily, Jason saunters up to her, crouches and then grabs her face by the chin, forcing her to tilt her head up to continue staring at him in the eyes. “Aw, did you really fucking think I cared about you this entire time?”
Marinette swallows thickly—unable to conjure up a response to him. Black spots start to form in the corner of her vision like watching a spattering of embers burning away on a piece of paper.
He tilts his head to the side and snorts, “really? Nothing to say, no heartfelt "I trusted you!" or "you're lying!". Not even a "I know the real you is still in there?", how fucking pathetic.”
There's a small part of her brain that starts flashing red lights and wailing alarms—warning her that she's in danger, that she's hurt, that she's stopped breathing. She can't breathe, can't move, can't say anything or she'll spill all her remaining secrets.
Jason sighs and drops her chin. “And here I fucking thought your shitty-ass reaction to me betraying you would be more fun.”
Grimacing, she waits a heartbeat after he lets go before mustering all her strength to slam her skull into his—if I'm going down, you're coming with me for this, Marinette mentally vows.
There's a horrendous thwacking sound as the impact lands, and Marinette feels as though her brain has turned into a blender that just had its blades snap mid blend.
Jason, on the other hand, flings himself backwards and curses up a storm. He pulls out one of his guns and with dizzying vision, manages to shoot a bullet that just clips the uninjured side of her ribs. “That's what you fucking get for that you bitch!”
Marinette doubles over as the pain seems to ricochet through her; vision blacking out completely. She struggles for breath, her hearing cutting off not a second later. Objectively, she's aware she's not alone. But as her senses shut down one by one, leaving her helplessly trapped in her own mind, she can't help but wonder why her heart aches with loneliness. I'm sorry, she silently apologises to no one and everyone.
Distantly, she thinks she's swaying—or collapsing again maybe. But it's hard to tell, it's disorientating trying to focus on the world with dying senses.
Marinette is lost. Every little movement, every little thought—it's agony, a struggle to keep going, keep holding on. Once more, she silently pleas for forgiveness from the kwami.
She stops.
Stops breathing. Heart stops beating. Stops fighting. It all stops.
At least this way, she thinks to herself, I can't spill any secrets from the truth serum-poison if I carry them to the grave instead…
She sinks into the darkness, clinging to her final thought in numb relief as she does so. Everything fades away.
———
Jason groans as the knife Marinette is wielding digs deeper between his ribs.
She doesn't move back immediately, so he grits his teeth and roundhouse kicks at her—the heavy thump of collision makes his wound burn like acid has just been poured on it.
He's a few seconds too slow pulling his leg back, as Marinette slices the knife through his calf.
“Fuck!” He bites out, throwing himself further out of her range and breathing. “Marinette!”
With the gall to smile faux-innocently, she plays with the knife in her hand, slipping it between her fingers and swirling it about. “Yes, Jason?”
“The fuck are you doing!?” He growls, shifting his position when she doesn't move to apply pressure to the calf wound.
She shrugs, seemingly unbothered, “what? Did you really think this wouldn't happen one day? That I wouldn't get sick of you. Show you just how much you've hurt me the entire time we've known each other?”
Jason spits blood from his mouth at the warehouse floor in front of her. “I don't believe whatever shit you're being made to spew, but I sure as fucking hell know that you'd never do something as fucked up as this.”
“Oh, that's cute! You still believe in me. What's next, are you going to beg me to come to my senses? Are you going to cry my name and hope it changes my mind? Are you going to declare that the "real" me is still there inside and that you're going to save me?” Marinette giggles, high-pitched and yet hollow sounding.
Jason flinches at the sound, breathing stuttering as the poison from her knife starts to really seep in. Shit, he thinks to himself, truth serum-poison. If I'm not careful I'm gonna say shit that should stay secret.
A flash of silver catches the edge of his vision. And it's all the warning he gets. He immediately ducks and rolls, cursing under his breath as his wounds are aggravated. The air by his hair swooshes as the blade just narrowly misses.
Marinette giggles taper off into a hiss of fury. Her hair slips out of her pigtails from the constant movement, and multiple strands fall in front of her face. She huffs, ineffectively blowing them out of the way. “Did you really think I ever loved you?”
“Yes!” The words are choked out of his mouth before he can even think, the truth serum-poison kicking in hard and fast. Jason wheezes and the taste of iron lingers like malice in his throat. Fuck, he thinks desperately, I'm running out of time and Marinette isn't snapping out of whatever the fuck's been done to her.
He stumbles into another roll, as the blade comes swinging at him again. His vision blurts violently, and the next thing Jason knows—is that his view has suddenly tipped upside down and that there's a throbbing ache radiating from the back of his shoulders and head.
“Huh, you really do have a thick skull. Normally that'd be enough to knock anyone else out. Well, I guess I'll have to do this the old fashioned way.” Marinette rambles, pulling out a rag.
Jason grunts as he pushes himself only to be slammed back into the concrete warehouse floor, rag pressed firmly over his mouth and nose.
He thrashes and refuses to inhale. Marinette scowls and kicks him sharply into the ribs, causing him to gasp through gritted teeth. But it's enough to affect him.
His vision teeters then flickers to black, he can feel his movements slowing—becoming more and more sluggish until he's as still as he was in that fucking coffin he's had to crawl out of once before. At least, he barely manages to cling to the final thought, I can't spill any secrets if I carry them to the grave once more.
And then it all fades away.
———
Lila steeples her finger and smirks. She's sitting in her plain white office for the Agreste, three monitors set up before her on the desk. The middle screen shows her emails and a few tabs up on fashion for work-related reasons. The outer two screens, however, show the feed to two identical cells—two by four by five metres with cement floors and grey brick walls, no windows and a single plain black metal door. No furniture either, not even beds or toilets, just chains attached to the wall opposite the door. And in the chains is what has Lila so very happy indeed; Marinette and Jason, one in each cell and both stuck in the chains with no hope for escape.
A steady pool of blood has already formed beneath the both of them, thanks to the wonderful work of her Sentimonster duplicates of the two.
Lila can't help but monologue in her glee, “It's so excellently simple really. Even if one escapes, there's no way they'll help the other escape now. Now they've experienced the pain of betrayal and torture inflicted by the other!”
Footsteps approach the door to her office; all it takes is a quick click and click of the mouse and her two outer screen feeds flip to showing more work-related tabs and emails.
The door opens to reveal Adrien, slightly dishevelled—hair and shirt ruffled, eyes red with dark bags beneath them, and shiny tear streaks down his cheeks—he stands in the threshold, shaking. “Did you know?”
Lila smiles in fake confusion. “Know what?”
Adrien swallows, gaze flickering to her screens. “Marinette's dead. So is Jason.”
Lila tilts her head to the side to make it look as though she's thinking. “The Wayne boy that was close to her, right? Oh dear.”
His tired gaze turns back to Lila as he continues. “They think both of them were kidnapped and tortured separately. Police have found traces of an altered truth-serum among the bloodstains and…” He chokes for a second, grief plain as day across his face. “and they found pieces of fingers, ears, slices of skin, and all.”
“Oh, oh, that's horrible!” Lila gasps, covering her mouth with her hands to hide the victorious curl forming on her lips. “Have they found out who was cruel enough to do that to them yet?”
Adrien shakes his head silently.
“Hopefully, the culprit will be found soon. But if you need any support, I'll always be here for you, Adrien!” Lila gravely announces, bobbing her head slightly as she spoke.
He narrows his eyes at her, shakes his head, and then stalks away from her office.
She scowls as soon as his back turns and gets up to shut her door. “Well,” She says to herself as she flips back to the cell feed, “at least that means I'll have plenty of time to pull the secrets from you two without the police thinking to look for you alive.”
———
| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |
| Also feel free to send me any asks or comments with any questions you have regarding this oneshot, I'll be more than happy to answer! |
| @jasonette-july-event |
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Ignorance is Blitzed (Part Two)
Ron Speirs x Reader
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When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initally thought.
WARNINGS: Some overthinking handsome deathwish prince, some potty words, he makes you nakey but it’s to save your life so NOT SMUT YET KIDS BUT SOON
The shot the doc had given you only confirmed what the SS prisoner had tried to communicate to Bull in broken English- the nazi’s were giving their footsoldiers amphetamines as stimulants and aggression boosters.
Ron supposed that he should feel some comfort in that- that it hadn’t truly been poison or some aneurysm of some kind that had left you this trembling and sick mess on the mattress before them.
But you still were hurting, still sick and trembling and miserable despite Doc insisting that the drugs he’d given you ensured that you weren’t in any discomfort. He knew better than to fully believe that- sure, you may not be getting violently ill at his feet anymore, but that didn’t mean you were anywhere near okay.
When you’d stumbled from the building he’d thought at first you were drunk, your steps staggering and your knees buckling like some crumpling marionette. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you so pale, and the haunted, terrified look on your face made his heart turn to stone in his chest when he’d caught it. 
He may not have known you and been your friend as long as Bull or Nix or Grant or even that squirrelly kid Christenson, but the idea of something taking you away from the world had become unacceptable somewhere between New York and Normandy. 
Your friendliness with Grant and Nix had brought you existence out of Ron’s peripheral and into his direct line of sight, and when you’d masterfully articulated the most effective way to refit the Allies-issued rifle with stolen parts from the German’s more advanced weaponry, you’d made it clear that you were not to be looked over just because you were easy on the eyes.
Which you were, and as much as Ron hated to admit it he had caught himself admiring you from across a classroom a time or ten while in Georgia. He just was better at hiding it than all of the other idiots who you would catch gaping at you.
You were easy to like, even for someone as prickly as Ron knew himself to be- strong and sincere and friendly and so fiercely loyal to the group of idiots you affectionately called ‘your boys’ that, even when he actively tried to dislike you, he couldn’t seem to manage it.
Not that he’d ever told you as much. Obviously. That wouldn’t do.
Or, it wouldn’t have done— to be more accurate.
Until now, he was fine with your strange friendship of comfortable silences and shared looks of reassurance and private jokes followed by even more private grins. You just seemed to fit, not like you’d filled a missing space, but more like you just seemed to...complement him.
And he was content to just remain that way— a dark and brooding shadow to your beautiful, blinding light. 
But now, having had a taste of what it would feel like to have your brilliant light nearly snuffed out? He felt ….threatened, something you had once teased was the most dangerous weapon the battalion had at its disposal. 
“God help the son of a bitch who ever cuts you off in traffic, Ron Speirs. If science can ever figure out what makes you tick, they should bottle it and sell it for profit….”
The memory seemed horribly ironic now.
You, you’re what makes me tick.
Even as you’d laid there shaking like a leaf, he’d been unable to see you as anything other than beautiful- a wounded Nike in army green.
Well, you had been in green— after about an hour of rest you’d sweat through your jumpsuit and in order to cool you off Ron and Roe had had to cut your layers away until you were left in your sweat-soaked undershirt and underpants. 
Of course, the perspiration on your skin had instantly cooled and sent you into a violent fit of shivers that only ceased after Ron got sick of watching you suffer and he’d forced the young man to help him carry you to the closest source of hot water and clumsily held you in a warm bath until your shivering subsided to an occasional twitch of your hand or foot.
Ron had never sat in a bathtub with another person before, but he figured that if he were going to it, it may as well have been for you. 
Your head had been heavy on his shoulder has he’d held you against him, the only sign of your wakefulness being your occasional grumble of Is it raining? or if you’re going to kill me just do it already or Ron I’m sorry I fucked up.
Roe had said nothing about how Ron rocked you in his arms whenever you tensed or shivered, nor did the medic seem to give off the impression that he found your symptoms surprising for someone in your situation, which filled Ron with relief.
“Y/n’s body hasn’t come into contact with methamphetamine before, if i had to guess. A lot of what we saw was her body doing what it’s supposed to do in order to get it out of her system….doesn’t look good, but it all this means everything’s doing exactly what it’s meant to….”
At least you weren’t dying. 
Each day that passed brought them one day closer to going home, closer to getting to go home where he didn’t have to worry about his friends and brothers getting killed the moment he let his guard down. Ron wasn’t sure if he believed in destiny, but he’d decided long ago that you and he were going to survive this whether you wanted to or not.
You were fucking with his plans, getting yourself hurt like this.
If he didn’t know how badly you were going to beat yourself up about making such a mistake, he probably would've been angrier about the whole thing.
But here, now? Ron couldn’t find it in himself to feel anger, not for you.
Never for you.
Roe had left him to watch you after your temperature had stabilized and the two of them had dressed you in some of Bull Randleman’s cleanest boxers and undershirt. You’d only stirred a few times since the initial injection and when you did Roe had made it clear that you were to be hydrated.
So there you were, back on the lumpy mattress in between Ron’s legs with your back against his chest, sipping from his water canteen while you apologized for maybe the hundredth time for something that wasn’t your fault (and even if it had been, he wouldn’t have blamed you for).
He watched you with soft eyes as you lowered the canteen and took a deep breath, another wave of something unpleasant washing over you that he couldn’t see, couldn’t ease for you.
“Do you need to get sick?” he asks quietly, but you’re shaking your head before he can finish.
“No, no. Just dizzy.”
Your tired gaze finds his face over your shoulder and you seem to study him for a moment, chapped lips parting a few times as if you want to say something, but the words seem to die on your tongue.
He lets your eyes trail over his face, taking a moment to take in your closeness as well.
“They’re gonna think we’re sleeping together.”
Your words surprise him, the amount of apology in your tone making his chest ache. You sigh again, looking at his canteen in your hands and working your jaw.
“The replacements, no matter what company…..they said it about Nix in Toccoa and Bull and Grant since Normandy. It’s….I’ve gotten used to it, but—”
“Let them.”
You freeze at that, and when he whispers your name he swears he’s never seen you look so shy.
Ah hell, he’d done stupider things than tell a girl he liked her. 
And if anyone deserved his honesty, it was you.
He shrugged casually, taking the canteen from your hands and leaning over to set it on the floor. The action brought his face closer to yours, and when you didn’t flinch away or look unhappy he gave you a look he knew you’d be able to see as genuine, even if to anyone else his stern expression hadn’t changed.
“Ron,”
“Y/n.”
You look as if you’re about to argue more, but with one more look at him you nod slightly.
He’s not sure what you’re nodding for,and he isn’t sure that you know either, but it feels as if you’re agreeing to something he’d been hoping you’d say yes to.
“I’m scared I won’t wake up.” you admit quietly, and when he pulls you back against him you follow so beautifully he almost kisses you. Almost.
He settles for tucking your head under his chin, and when you relax against him he feels privileged. 
“I won’t let that happen. You’ll wake up—”
“Why?” you ask softly, and Ron hopes that this is the final wave of exhaustion your body has to endure. 
He knows you aren’t just asking about why he won��t let you die in your sleep, and he has to think for a moment before finally the answer comes to him as easy as breathing.
“Because, I just do.”
You fall asleep shortly after that, your fingers laced with his in a light hold that he was reluctant to break.
 When Bull and the Doc come by a few minutes later, they find the two of you curled around each other like ivy and both sound asleep.
The two men stare at the scene before them for a few moments before Roe makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat. “Well, I’ll be….I didn’t necessarily see this coming.”
Bull barks a laugh, too relieved that you’re looking so much better to share the man’s stunned awe. With an approving nod, he nudges Eugene with his shoulder.
“C’mon, Doc. Let’s let em have an hour, unless you wanna be the one to wake up Sparky over there and let him know you approve—?”
Roe is out of the room before Bull can finish the offer, and with a grin the large man pops his cigar between his teeth,
“Good for you, kiddo.” he says under his breath, a grin on his face as he quietly shuts the door behind him.
An hour wouldn’t hurt.
(WOO HERE IT BE, THANK YOU FOR READING MY RAMBLINGS AND I LOVE YOU GUYS)
TAGLIST: @itswormtrain 
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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years
Text
i’ll marry you someday : j.w
brief summary: jeff hopes that someday he’ll marry you, but after an accident that lands him in hospital, he’s more certain than ever 
word count:  2.5k (i kinda went off on this) requested: yes by the sweetest anon. i adore this idea and cause i’m super dramatic well, you’ll see   warnings: mentions of a car crash, some graphic descriptions. nothing too threatening, but if these are sensitive topics please read at your own discretion or miss this one (your wellbeing matters more than anything!)
* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)
DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING
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“You know, I’m gonna marry you someday,” Jeff mumbles as you curl up against his chest as you struggle to keep your eyes open long enough to focus on the film.
“That so?” You whisper, looking up at him as he smiles down to you, his fingers gliding through your hair as you hum in content.
Jeff nods, unable to hide his grin as your eyes close.
It’s true though, Jeff really means it when he says it. Even if you think he’s just joking around. As a matter of fact, in all his life, Jeff has never been more certain about something. That being with you, and spending the rest of his life alongside you, and only you. After everything he’s been through, the consequences he’s faced from his actions you’re just a ray of sunshine.
You didn’t care about his past, the things he once did. He’s grown, matured as a person into someone you want to be with and love him regardless.
*
Standing in the doorway, Jeff’s bags pile up outside whilst Todd patiently waits for his friend to depart from his house. If only it were easier said than done.
“Do you have to go?” You pout as your arms remain around his waist, not wanting to let go.
Jeff chuckles as he glances behind you, seeing Todd filming on his camcorder in the pathway. “I’ll only be gone a few days, baby.” Jeff reminds you, hearing you sigh loudly as your hands begin to slip away from him.
“Just, stay safe.” You nudge his arm as he picks up his bags before leaning down and kissing you softly. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He blows one last kiss to you before walking out from your house, leaving you with Nerf sat by your side watching his Dad get into the passenger seat of Todd’s car.
“You really love her, don’t you?” Todd speaks up, noticing the way Jeff looks at you as if you’re the only person in the entire world.
Jeff can’t help but think of the ring he’s picked out and reserved at the jewellers, a quick pitstop on route to his and Todd’s destination. “I do, Toddy.” Jeff sighs as they pull away, moving further away from you, but closer to the next step in your future.
“So, airport?” Todd looks over to Jeff before returning his attention to the road.
Shaking his head, Jeff points to the left hand turn coming up, the opposite direction. “I just wanna make a short stop first.” Jeff states as Todd turns the car, and as they follow the road Jeff can see the old shop sign.
Feeling his heartbeat quicken pace, it isn’t something that goes unnoticed by Todd. “We going where I think we’re going?” Todd asks with a hesitant smile before Jeff points at the shop whilst Todd parks up just down the road.
“Yeah.” Jeff runs his fingers through his hair as he opens the passenger door, hearing Todd mutter his name as his right leg hangs out of the car.
“This is it, huh?” Todd chuckles, an attempt to hide his nerves for his friend. “You’re gonna ask her?”
“I really am, Todd. Got it all planned out.” Jeff states, feeling that familiar sense of uneasiness return to his stomach as he climbs out fully, his arm resting on the top of the car as Todd remains in the driver's seat. “Gotta say, I’ve never been more certain of anything.” He admits before turning away from the car, crossing the street toward the shop in question.
Whilst Jeff is crossing, Todd’s fingers tap on the steering wheel, humming to himself. Yet, Jeff doesn’t make it across the road.
Glancing through his rearview mirror, seeing a car speeding down the narrow street, shortly followed by a sharp break and a loud thud.
“No, no.” Todd mutters, feeling everything play too quickly for him to process. “Jeff?!” Todd yells, looking behind his car to see the small car in question with the window smashed as the driver crawls out, coughing violently.
A few shop owners and customers gather around behind the driver's car, some converse whilst others call for help. “Is he alive?” Todd hears one lady question whilst another bends down, her feet sticking out from behind the car as Todd hesitantly walks closer.
Fearing the worst, Todd took a deep breath as he moved between the gathering crowd to see what his fears be a reality.
“Jeff? Buddy?” Kneeling down, Todd couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he reaches out as blood dribbles from Jeff’s mouth as his eyes remain closed. “Has someone called for some help? Fuck!” He looks around, desperation lacing his tone as faces blur together whilst blood coats his face and exposed limbs.
“An ambulance is on its way.” Someone speaks up, resting a hand on Todd’s shoulder with a sympathetic smile.
“You’ll be okay, buddy,” Todd mutters, forcing back his tears as Jeff’s limps are splayed out, lifelessly.
*
You couldn’t process the phone call as it came through. Part of you thought it was a sick prank call until you heard Todd’s hushed voice down the line, loud enough to understand without it cracking.
David picked you up with Natalie, understanding you were in no fit position to drive.
No words were exchanged as you sat silently in the passenger seat, thinking about what Todd had told you. He hadn’t even left town, they were making a pit stop and some sick fuck was speeding.
Tearing the images from your mind, you open the car door and rush inside without checking your friends were close behind.
“Is Jeff Wittek here?” You ask bluntly, remaining emotionless as you bite your lip, holding back a sob.
The receptionist looks up at you before averting her attention to her screen. You wait painfully as she types into the system, now aware of David and Natalie either side of you. Natalie rests her hand on your forearm, squeezing it lightly as a single tear spills from your eye.
“He’s in room 207. Turn left down the hall, and three floors up.” The receptionist tells you and before she can ask if you need anything else, you’re gone.
You can’t keep up with your own feet as you race to his room, a distortion of voices play as Natalie and David converse as they try to catch up to you, but you’re oblivious to everyone else.
Slowing down, you can see someone hunched over on a seat outside of a room. A tuft of brown hair, slouched form and his hands clasped in each other.
“Toddy?” You call out weakly, seeing him rise to his feet and rush over, engulfing you in a tight hug as you sob against him.
Natalie and David hang back as Todd focuses on Natalie with watery vision. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” Todd mumbles into your hair as your whole body shakes. “He, he just wanted to get something. I should’ve gone with him.” Todd rambles, but you lean back, shaking your head to him.
“It’s not your fault, Todd.” You tell him bluntly. “Do not blame yourself. It was an accident.” You breathe deeply as you force yourself to look at the door number behind him. “Is he, is he awake?”
Todd scratches the back of his neck as he takes a hold of your hand, guiding you closer toward the room. “He’s still unconscious, but he’ll be alright,” Todd tells you, but you can tell there’s something else. “but he got hurt bad, Y/n.”
Taking a shaky breath, you nod. “How bad are things?”
Shutting your eyes, you wipe away your tears forcefully as you listen to Todd listing off Jeff’s injuries. Two broken legs, fractured ribs, a collapsed lung. He was lucky to make it out alive.
“Can I see him?” You question quietly.
Todd opens the door and guides you inside to the room where Jeff is being monitored.
As you lift your eyes up, the sight before you breaks your heart.
You listen to the sound of his monitor beeping as various tubes are connected to him. Discomfort is worn heavily in his face, despite him being unconscious as stitches line his cheeks and forehead. Bruises are starting to form across his exposed skin, but the damage evidently lies deeper than that.
A sob wracks through you as you cover your mouth, muffling the sound as you fall to the ground.
“It’s okay, Y/n.” Todd hushes as he helps you to your feet. “Jeff’s strong, we know this.” He reassures you as you step closer toward your boyfriend, sitting beside him.
Reaching out, you rest your hand alongside his.
Both you and Todd sit in silence until visiting hours are over, and at this point, you can feel your entire body is numb. You didn’t want to leave him, you didn’t want Jeff to be alone in that room, left in pain without anyone by his side.
*
Two days you were sat in the room, sitting in silence beside him as Doctors and Nurses passed by. Checks were made, vitals were monitored and silence was a frequent friend.
You saw many faces, most with sympathy etched into their smiles as they tried not to focus on the damages covering Jeff’s body or the tiredness lining your eyes. It felt like an ongoing cycle, just waiting for any kind of update.
Everyone was just waiting, waiting for him to wake up. And after three solid days of waiting, sitting by his side for as long as you were allowed to, Jeff started to stir in the bed.
“Where the fuck am I?” He mumbles, and you quickly jolt up from sleeping at an angle on the plastic chair beside his bed.
“Jeff?” You call out, blinking rapidly as your vision begins to focus on his confused expression as he winces. “Oh thank god.” You reframe from wrapping your arms around him, knowing he’s still fragile. “I, I’ll go get someone, I’ll be right back.” You tell him quickly as you rise to your feet, finding the first Nurse to pass you by.
Whilst you talk to a nurse, Jeff looks around the room as the events of that afternoon replay. He remembers seeing a blue car speeding toward him and being on the ground with faces surrounding him. But after that, everything is simply blank.
Jeff watches as you walk back in, your angelic smile plastered across your face as bags wear heavy beneath your eyes.
Sitting beside him, you rest his hand in yours as the Nurse checks his vitals and explains exactly what has happened to him. As you listen to the Nurse, you feel Jeff faintly squeezing your hand, letting you know he can feel you beside him.
“So, I got hit bad, huh?” Jeff tries to joke but winces at the pain spreading across his ribs.
“Take it easy, babe.” You remind him as he lies back down, letting out a strained sigh.
“Seen worse in jail, let me tell you that.” He continues his efforts to make you smile, even if tears fill your eyes as you focus on him, how casts cover both legs and bandages across his stomach. “Hey, Y/n, I’m okay.” He reaches out as you lean closer toward him.
Feeling his hand rest across your cheek is enough to comfort you as you let out a shaky breath. “I know, I just, I don’t know what I would do if you were,” You struggle to finish your sentence as Jeff wipes away your tears that fall.
“Don’t think ‘bout that, baby.” He hushes you, peering over your shoulder to see Todd leaning against the door frame. “If it isn’t my saviour,” Jeff calls out and you laugh lightly, leaning back as Todd walks in.
Rising to your feet, Todd hugs you lightly as you pass him and exit the room in search of the bathroom.
“Hey man.” Todd sighs as he sits down, taking your seat temporarily whilst you’re gone. “Good to see you awake, you, you had us worried for a moment.”
“Just a moment?” Jeff raises an eyebrow, ignoring the bruising around his eye and the stitches below.
Todd shakes his head as he reaches into his pocket, taking out a small velvet box. “I, I picked this up, thought you might want it.” Sliding the small box across the bed, Jeff hides it underneath the covers of the hospital sheets.
“Thank you, Todd.” Jeff smiles, and Todd simply nods as you return.
“Did I miss anything?” You call out as Todd stands up, moving away from the chair as he shakes his head.
“Nothing too eventful. Good luck getting him to pee for the next few months though.” Todd laughs, nudging you lightly as you roll your eyes, missing the wink he sends Jeff.
For the next few hours, you just sat with Jeff as the Doctors explained the next step in Jeff’s recovery. It wasn’t going to be easy, and you understood that there would be hard times, but you weren’t going anywhere.
“Thank you, Doc.” Jeff speaks up, processing everything he’s just been told.
“Looks like you’ll be my bitch for a while, huh?” You tell Jeff, hoping to see a smile cross his lips to ease the pressure of the detailed recovery process.
Jeff chuckles, looking up at you as you keep a smile on your face. “You’re seriously something else, Y/n.” Jeff shakes his head, watching as you shrug a shoulder. “You know, I’m gonna marry you someday.” He reminds you, and you laugh lightly.
“I know, baby. You tell me almost every week!” You smile brightly, but Jeff shakes his head as he reaches into the sheets, taking a hold of the velvet box.
“I really mean it, and, and I know this isn’t probably the way I envisioned it. And I can’t even stand, let alone get on one knee right now, but,” Taking a deep breath, Jeff reveals the diamond inside of the box, looking up as your lips part.
“Jeff,” You start, but Jeff shakes his head.
“Y/n, you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You, you’ve seen past all the shit in my life, you’re willing to help me through this and wheel me everywhere for possibly months. I can’t imagine being with anyone else, and I don’t want to.” Jeff reels off all of his thoughts as you remain in a state of shock. “So, Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” He finally asks the question, feeling his heart pause as he awaits your response.
“Yes.” You mumble, nodding as you rise to your feet, leaning closer and kissing him passionately. “Yes, yes!” You laugh excitedly as you sit back down, letting Jeff place the ring on your finger. “So, this is it, huh?”
“I told you, baby.” Jeff smiles brightly, fighting through the pain as his monitor continues to beep at a slightly rapid pace. “I’m gonna marry you someday, and that’s a promise.”
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nikkoliferous · 4 years
Text
Phase One: Thor
Since I was looking up my past live-blog of the novel and realising how annoying and repetitive reading through it all is because of my having structured it as a bunch of reblogs, I’ve decided to organize it all into one long-ass post instead. In case anyone else wants to read it in the future. Or in case I decide to re-read it. Because I’m hilarious. 😅
SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO
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My Hilarious Yet Wrathful Overview Of Phase One: Thor, Redux
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If your son who’s to become king requires a babysitter to not screw it all up and also the idea of him being king is stressful enough to put you into a coma, maybe, uh… reconsider doing that? Just a thought.
But you see here why Odin was so deadset on Thor becoming king, despite him being ill-suited for the role. It’s not about what’s best for Asgard; it’s about personal legacy. Thor is Odin’s mini me, and Loki is very much not. There are places within the text where Odin laments Thor “lacking his father’s wisdom” (he’s definitely inherited your humility, though, Odin!), but he hopes for Thor to grow into a “wise king” like himself. Whereas he holds no such illusions (lol, pun) that Loki will ever take after him.
now with tag commentary! #this scene is in the script and both novelizations #(though in reading this novel seems to just be a more complete version of the junior novel? #idk i'm confused because they're supposedly written by different authors but so far the text is identical) #and it drives me insane each time i read it
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“Haha, I’m a warmongering piece of shit, isn’t it funny?”
I know, I know. I try to cut Asgard some slack for being such a militaristic culture because social changes happen slowly and when you live for thousands of years per generation, it makes sense that your views on things like war would be regressive. The text says Odin has ruled Asgard for tens of thousands of years (so much for taking Loki’s “give or take 5,000 years” line literally; sure, the Odinsleep would have extended Odin’s lifespan, but by that much? Idk).
Still, fuck Odin. Especially since he’ll eventually try to shame Loki for doing the same thing he’s fucking boasting about here. And on a much smaller scale too.
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…is it, though?
I actually think Loki’s relationship with being the centre of attention is really interesting in its complexity and we don’t discuss it enough. I’ve said this before, but he strikes me as the sort of person who craves attention but also wouldn’t really know what to do with it if he had it. He craves it as a result of neglect, because he’s never been shown recognition or validation. This is why he seems to revel in it in Stuttgart, even in (or maybe especially in?) his brainwashed state. But he also frequently comes across as pretty introverted and has horrible self-esteem, so I think on another level, sustained, genuine attention would make him feel kind of uncomfortable. Loki seems to believe that in order to be loved or respected, he has to literally be Thor, though. And Thor has always been the centre of attention, so for Loki, attention is synonymous with respect.
I find Loki’s relationship with wanting attention especially fascinating because I too both crave and fear it. As a borderline, I need it. When no one is paying attention to me, I lose my sense of identity. I feel as though I literally cease to exist. It’s excruciatingly painful. And yet, I have no authentic sense of self; I’m just a chameleon, and the closer people get to me, the more likely it is they’ll see behind my mask. They’ll realise it’s all a show and that I’m actually no one. And then they’ll leave. I can’t help wondering if that’s how Loki feels sometimes too.
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Wait, what? You mean goat. His horns are shaped like a goat’s. This is a ram: 
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This is a goat:
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This is Loki:
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Do you see now? They’re like a goat. Not a ram. Not a cow. A GOAT.
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This book was written before Ragnarok was a thing, so it may be unfair to connect the two, but it still seems worth noting that it was Thor who reduced Loki to being no more than a trickster to begin with. “You could be more,” my ass. Loki’s problem has never been that he was one-dimensional; it was always that the people in his life, including Thor, refused to see any other dimensions to him. Which makes those words particularly cruel—as if they aren’t cruel enough already, what with the physical torture and all. 
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Always happy to have cause to point out that
Loki was on Thor clean-up duty their whole lives; he certainly was not trying to kill Thor.
People like to point to Loki’s attempted genocide of the Jötnar and attempted(-ish? lol) conquest of Earth as proof that he’s some kind of violent maniac. But in a little place I like to call reality, Loki was historically far less aggressive and bloodthirsty than his peers.
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Question: why is one conqueror evil and the other is righteously entitled to ruling over the Nine Realms?
Asgardian exceptionalism FTW
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I can’t even begin to imagine what would lead you to expect such a thing, Odin. 😂
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Uh, ‘cause it is?? And also their planet is MELTING without it??
This is all only within the first two chapters, btw. Lmao
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“Looking for answers,” my foot.
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YOU WOULD THINK SO, WOULDN’T YOU??
#i mean unless you knew heimdall #he only commits treason on days that end in y
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What’d I say? Thor clean-up dutyyyyy 
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Just wanna remind everyone that this 
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is why he’s smiling during this scene 
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because it makes me laugh every time. 😂 
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My heart breaks every time I remember that second excerpt because literally ALL OF IT happened to him when he survived falling through the wormhole. My poor boy. 😭
But also of note… Loki gets cold (and also does not like being cold). This interests me because 1) as many are aware, the prevalent headcanon that Loki has a low body temperature irritates me and 2) it possibly(?) lends weight to the theory that he may not be fully Jötun, whether by virtue of his birth or Odin’s spell.
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Haha, look at this Feminist Icon™ trying to take credit for his female friend’s accomplishments! Truly inspiring. 
#for some reason the ragnarok lovers have somehow decided that thor is both a feminist and lesbian icon #whatever that means 🤷‍♀️ #and i'm still trying very hard to figure out why #is it literally just because he *says* he respects women or whatever in that dumb rambly conversation with valkyrie?
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Ooh… you were so close to getting the point, Volstagg. So close. Take your tongue off Odin’s boot for just a couple minutes longer.
Also, the author just forgot the name of the Casket. How did this book get published? 😂
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JUST LOOKING FOR ANSWERS, HUH?
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Because fuck Loki, amirite? He, uh… he’s a prince too, you know.
Also… Fandral, you dweeb 😂
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…am I reading too much into this, or did Odin just literally forget that Loki exists?
On the other hand, the author also seemed to forget Loki existed for most of this chapter, so who knows. 🤷‍♀️
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lmao @ Jane immediately trying to convince herself she’s too rational to be attracted to a stranger 
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Honestly, though, big mood. 
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Just your periodic reminder that Thor’s sycophantic friends KNEW Loki was right and decided to throw him under the bus anyway. 
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Just as I’ve always said: That was it. That was their ENTIRE rationale. That Loki *could* have done it, therefore he must have. Please tell me these people have nothing to do with Asgard’s justice system.
…lol, jk, Asgard has no justice system.
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Ok, first of all, no.
Second: thank you, Fandral. You’re a self-absorbed cad, but also evidently Thor’s least stupid friend.
Thirdly, how…? First, it was, “Loki arranged all this because he’s jealous of Thor.” Now they’ve suddenly jumped all the way to, “All of Asgard is in danger.” What exactly does Sif think Loki is planning? He’s gonna, what… assassinate Odin and then sell Asgard to the Jötnar?
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Please stop hurting me.
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Just so there’s no confusion: this one sentence explains everything Loki did for the rest of the movie. It explains how a person who has been historically non-aggressive suddenly transforms into a warmonger. To prove himself a real Asgardian, like his brother and father and grandfather. 
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…why did Odin fall into the Odinsleep in two completely different scenes in this book? I’m super confused.
Also, we really need to talk about how cruel it is of Marvel to keep forcing Loki to prove his loyalty again and again and again when he’s been doing so almost literally since we met him. And by “we need to talk about it”, I mean I need to tie Kevin Feige and co. to a chair and spend a minimum of five hours lecturing them on how poorly they understand their own fucking character.
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Let’s just be clear here: they’re talking about Loki. They’re saying Loki, their LEGITIMATE king, is an enemy of Asgard, based on evidence so paper-thin it’s practically invisible. Just… please, let that sink in. Take a moment to appreciate how utterly fucked up that is. 
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I’m sorry (not really), but Thor was so much funnier before Ragnarok.
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This scene has always kind of bugged me. If Odin removed Thor’s powers, how come he can still control the weather? Confusing.
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So what exactly was Thor’s plan anyway, before he realised he couldn’t lift Mjölnir? He was just gonna call on Heimdall to help him commit treason AGAIN, show up on Asgard against the expressed command of his king, and… Odin would just shrug and be like, “You got me, son! I guess I can’t keep you down. Welcome home!”?
…I mean, I guess that more or less is what happened in the end, but it’s hard to imagine it would have still gone down that way without all the stuff that happened with Loki. Idk.  
#look what i'm saying is... thor is not exactly a thinking person #no one on asgard is a thinking person #except loki but he's crazy now so he's also thinking somewhat poorly lol
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Cool, Thor. Now imagine feeling that way for ONE THOUSAND YEARS and develop a little fucking empathy for your brother.
But you won’t.
You’ll brush off his feelings of worthlessness as “imagined slights”. 😒
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Nice that somebody knows how the royal line of succession works, I guess… 
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That sound you hear? Yeah, that’s just my heart breaking. NBD. 
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First, they mislabelled it the Casket of Eternal Winters. Now it’s the Cask of Ancient Winters. Author must have been thirsty when they wrote this. Lol 
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Look, not to nitpick, but this is not the recommended procedure when you see a storm that you don’t believe is of supernatural origin coming. I’m just saying. Lol 
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Uh… ‘cause he is?? And your pals are committing treason AGAIN, Thor, so it technically is responding to a threat to Asgard. Just FYI.
Anyways, this is an important point that doesn’t get made often enough. People want to act like Loki illegally usurped the throne somehow, but even without the deleted scene that explicitly shows Frigga passing rulership to him (a scene which is, for some reason, entirely skipped over in this book, but whatever), understand this: Loki could not have controlled the Destroyer unless he was legitimately King of Asgard. The fact that he’s able to do so is irrefutable proof that his rulership is valid.
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lmao you little shit
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So… here’s my issue with this scene (and with Thor as a character): He always assumes that Loki’s acting out specifically to hurt him. That Loki’s entire life and thought process revolves around Thor. He does it in this scene, he does it in The Avengers… it’s just a chronic thing with Thor. Everything is viewed through the lens of Loki inexplicably hating him.
But that’s… just not accurate. Yes, Loki harbours a lot of jealousy towards Thor. But that’s not what’s happening in this scene. Loki is not trying to kill Thor here because he wants him dead; he’s doing it because Thor (and his friends) are getting in the way of Loki completing his ultimate goal. Loki tried to solve this problem non-violently, by lying about Odin being dead. It’s Thor’s friends who all but forced his hand by going behind his back and trying to bring Thor back to Asgard against Loki’s (and Odin’s!) direct orders.
For all the humility he’s learned in the past few days, this entire speech is still really all about Thor. About assuming that Loki’s doing this for personal reasons, because he holds a grudge against Thor for some unknown reason. This is implicit in his request to “take [my life] and end this.” It never even occurs to him that his friends are traitors to the Crown and Loki, as King of Asgard, is perhaps justified in pursuing them.
It also needs to be acknowledged that Thor’s apology here is hollow, even if it’s ultimately coming from his heart, because he has no idea what he’s apologising for. “Whatever I have done to wrong you” is not an apology. An apology addresses specific hurtful actions taken and commits to not repeating those mistakes in the future. Thor cannot commit to not repeating the hurtful things he’s done, because he doesn’t know what he’s done. Despite his best intentions, what Thor is doing here is actually kind of manipulative. He’s not addressing any substantive issue between the two of them; he’s just trying to talk Loki down. And it ultimately fails not because Loki doesn’t care or because he wants Thor dead, but because it doesn’t actually change anything.
Finally and only semi-relatedly, we should maybe at some point talk about the fact that Loki, who is stated to be a master tactician, has displayed a weird pattern of hardly ever being as lethal as he could be. He freezes Heimdall in place instead of killing him outright; he backhands Thor with the Destroyer instead of incinerating him; he, well… *gestures vaguely at almost the entirety of the first Avengers movie* Anytime the violence is even a little bit personal, he seems to hedge. Odd behaviour for somebody who’s supposedly super evil.
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I’m sorry, I know I’ve pointed it out at least a hundred times before, but I just can’t encounter this scene in any form without taking a moment to appreciate how underrated and hilarious it is.
I also genuinely wonder how many Ragnarok stans who have accused me of having no sense of humour, have failed to laugh at moments like this one. Kinda feel like if you need to have the comedy spoonfed to you in the form of ass jokes, maybe you’re the one whose sense of humour is lacking. 🤷‍♀️
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Let’s be super clear: this is not what happened. Loki did not betray Odin; he was betrayed by Odin. He did not open Asgard to its enemies; he attempted, misguidedly, to destroy Asgard’s enemies. And he most certainly did not commit suicide out of a sense of guilt.
I’m not saying Loki did nothing wrong, nor am I saying he feels no regret for the lives he has taken. What I’m saying is there’s no indication that he believes he betrayed Odin or Asgard in the process. Which makes perfect sense, because he didn’t. Everything he tried to do was for Odin and Asgard. It was misguided and horrible, yes, but it can hardly be classified as a betrayal.
The insurmountable burden on Loki is not that he did terrible things, but that no matter what he does or how hard he tries, Odin will never look at him with anything but contempt. Consider once more these passages from the very beginning of the book, at Thor’s coronation:
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Consider that this book goes to great pains to point out that Odin favours Thor because Thor is a warrior like him. And yet even when Loki embraces that, even when he acts more war-like than ever before, Odin rejects him— just as he always has.
There is a reason why this moment is the last time Loki will ever call Odin his father. Because he realises once and for all that, no, nothing he tries will ever be good enough; no, Odin won’t ever look at him with pride. That is Loki’s burden. That is why he lets go.
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The epilogue is really just two pages of making me want to vomit. 
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There’s your party where Thor and a certain subset of the fandom insist that Loki was mourned. There’s barely an indication here that anyone even perceives his demise as a negative thing.
“[Sif] could see Frigga thought [Loki was dead] as well” also contradicts the tie-in comic for TDW, so I don’t know what the author is on about there. Unlike the majority of Marvel comics, the tie-in comics are canon to the MCU, so it’s a bizarre statement to make.
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COULD YOU SMEAR THE DEAD* ABUSE VICTIM A LITTLE HARDER, PLEASE? Fucking hell.
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No matter how many times I encounter this scene, in whatever format, I still fail to become desensitized to how disgusting it is. I realise there’s a good chance that whatever version of events Thor has been told was twisted at best; but how you can look at a man whose son has just committed suicide under any circumstances and say there will never be a better father than that guy, is utterly beyond my capacity to understand.
And Odin’s “you’ve already made me proud” line just feels like extra salt in the wound because, again, Loki let go because he realized Odin would never say those words to him. And yet they come so damn easily when it’s Thor.
Fuck this entire family so much. I think I hate them more than Loki does. Sometimes I wonder what he would think about that. How he would react to knowing that not only is he actually loved, but that he’s so loved that people are genuinely furious at the way he’s been mistreated. That there are people who regularly devolve into full-on rants because they just can’t contain how much anger they have towards the people who hurt him. I think he’d have a hard time wrapping his head around that concept, tbh.
Anyways, to end on a not-completely-depressing note, I’m still waiting for someone at Marvel to explain how Loki knew what Thor said in this scene after plummeting into a wormhole. ‘Cause he references this conversation as Fauxdin at the end of TDW. So like… ?? Did he steal Odin’s memories before he erased them? Because that would be… kind of neat, actually. And very clever. Not entirely ethical, of course, but it’s Odin, so fuck ethics.
WELP, THAT’S IT. Thanks for following along with my dumbassery, hope you enjoyed yourselves. Lol
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lyn-rambles · 3 years
Text
Did you know? || Yaku Morisuke x Reader ||
Hello again my fellows
Ok so this one shot is part of the Haikyuu Headquarters server collab  we all very happy to show our works, so please check out other works and give all the writers and artists a look uwu. If you want to see more of this type of content please use this.
I hope this time it gets posted because tumblr has been eating this thing ;-;
Pairing: Yaku x reader
Prompt: You woke me up at 3am for this?
Altern Universe: N/A
                                                                 PoV: Second person 
Warnings: None
Word count: 2.5 K
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Yaku had a rough day, practice with the Japan National Team had exhausted him, he could barely walk to his shower to get off all the sweat from his body. He had been staying at the Japan's volleyball Association’s Dorms while he got arrangements done to stay in a more comfortable place. The cool water felt great against his sore body, they practically cleaned the gym floor that day doing drills and receives most of it. He was amazed to see that Hinata had gotten better at them and also was glad to see some old friends and known faces, he was also happy to see Kuroo again but he wasn’t going to tell him that out loud… He had a reputation to keep.
He closed the water and stepped out fresh, and feeling better, maybe not less tired but a bit more comfortable with his body. Yaku slipped on his pajamas and looked at his phone. The little LED had twinkled the whole afternoon, the color red immediately made him think that he must be out of battery and as he unlocked it he found your message. A smile grew in his lips. After his graduation you both had tried to keep contact. At the time you were still a second year but you got to be acquainted quickly. You had lived near each other, yet, you didn’t attend the same middle school it wasn’t like you an Yaku had talked too much, until you became a first year at Nekoma.
“I don’t know if you’ll see this before training but I wanted to show you this” and then showed a photo of the new samples you had prepared for your bio class. You worked as a teacher on a Junior High School, and had talked him about your plans on using plant samples to teach about the common tissues on them. He smiled at how proudly you had shown him the images from the microscope. He replied to you congratulating on the quality of them. He remembered how fascinating you found the world around and how happy you were on telling others about it. You had always rambled facts about animals, space, plants, the solar systems, name it you probably had a fun fact about it. It was that hunger for knowledge and the love of spreading it was what drawn him to you on first place. You were part of the science club. Professor Murakama, the bio teacher was in charge of your club, and Morisuke hadn’t talked with him outside from classes but Kuroo had insisted on him to help him getting some works they had delivered and he wanted a revision even though he almost got a perfect mark.
“Hello there!” he greeted them. He had lifted his safety glasses. And the small circle of students that surrounded him turned to them. Morisuke didn’t know most of the people there, since most of them were first years, but he waved at you. You returned it. Of course you knew Yaku, he had lived next to your house since forever but you had never actually been close. Kuroo got to the professor and he just stood awkwardly on the door frame as everyone returned to the working tables.
The professor muttered something to himself. As he checked on Kuroo’s worksheet. “Yaku, why don’t you join our experimentation while I go to the teacher’s lounge with Kuroo?” he asked him. “You can use my lab coat and safety glasses while you are at it.”
Morisuke put on the equipment as he reminded everyone to be mindful of the lab rules pasted on a cardboard on the wall behind Yaku. The students divided on partners and you sat on a work table alone.
“What is it (Y/LN)? Why aren’t you working with anybody?” Yaku asked as he sat down next to you.
“We are an odd number of students, so today is my turn to work alone.” He turned to see one of her classmates mouthing to her that he was sorry. “You are free if you only want to watch, since you don’t have rubber gloves.”
That day seemed so long ago, he had watched as she prepared the acidic solution in a beaker and added drops of phenolphthalein before adding a strong base and watched in awe how the liquid started to get a hot pink color.
“Wha- Whe- How?!” he had asked you.
Since then, it was history. He had sometimes went at lunch time to see how were you doing, being a first year was tough. And you sometimes met him at the cafeteria before getting back to your friends. Then he got your number and that’s when the rambling about random science facts became constant. He always had at least one image and a new fact, such as “Hey! Did you knew that elephants are the only species with 4 knees?” He always had a smile at that and he didn’t notice when he started to look at them with fondness until his teammates pointed it out. And then it happened, one day he just didn’t get the random fact of the day as you two had started to call it, by your second year, even he had started to send you those kind of things or whenever he found out about some new exhibit. His friend urged him to already ask you out as he clearly had signs of endorphin rush whenever they mentioned her or Talk saw her. Up to this day he never knew why he didn’t do it, even more when he got so concerned that you didn’t even saw his text, since you always answered quite fast. He walked outside of the VB team staff room and walked to the entrance alone. And he rose his gaze and you were there under a tree, with your head between your arms. He rushed at your side, without knowing what to do, he put his hand on your shoulder.
You shot your head up only to see his face. He looked as your face was tainted with tears.
“Hey, (Y/N),” his voice wavered. “What happened?”
You only cleaned your eyes with the corner pf ypur jumper. And used a napkin to clean your runny nose. “Nothing… I am fine, Morisuke.” You managed a constrained smile, he stood up and offered his hand.
“Come on, let me walk you home.” You took his hand.
That day you were supposed to tell your feelings to your crush. You had been harboring feelings for him since you met him on your first year and today, you (with Yaku’s help) had worked enough courage to tell him. You had crafted a love letter to cite him on your classroom and tell him there after school. He had also helped you (he almost did it all) to bake some small cookies to gift him.
There you stood with your crush in front of you, you had told him. You had done it, this is the moment where he accepts and-
“I like you, as a friend, your intelligence is quiet intimidating and I can’t see you as more than a friend because of it.”
Morisuke had heard your story, as you started to sob again. You were sitting on the sidewalk in front of your house as he took out a napkin and scooted near to you as you kept crying, his left arm grabbed you by the shoulder and he embraced you. Your violent breaths calmed and he let you go. His uniform now had moisted with what you called “nose tears” (“Morisuke! Did you knew that when you cry some of your tears go down on your nose and that’s why you have a runny nose every time you cry?”) but he could wash it later. Right now the only important thing was you.
“Morisuke, you are my friend, right?” He nodded. “is my-“
“No” he had answered right away.
“But you didn’t even let me finish” you pushed him with a playful manner.
“I knew what you where gonna ask and my answer is no.” He searched on the paper bag and handed you a chocolate filled bread. “I know your favorites are caramel ones, but right now you need something to raise your serotonin levels.” You took it and looked at him, you had sent him that fact when you had suggested to make the cookies. “Besides if he feels intimidated by something as petty as that, he doesn’t deserve a the time of day, he doesn’t deserve you.” He grumbled. You had stared at him wide eyed as his face started to get pink and bid you farewell as he slammed his house door. You smiled as you clenched the bread.
And then his graduation came. You had sneaked from cleaning duty thanks to your best friend (“Go get him, (Y/N)!”) He had also been encouraged by his friends this might be the last time he could tell you about his feelings. His family was throwing a small dinner and they had invited you since you had started to spend more and more time with Morisuke. His mom had made Stir-fried vegetables with other dishes. All his family gathered inside as you two talked on the same sidewalk, you both had been sharing some good old laughs.
You still held your stomach with your arms at Yakkun as he rubbed his leg after slapping it while he laughed. He had the sting of tears of laughing and of pain on leg, but he kept going. Until both of you had calmed and the small faint dread of bursting out laughing again came back.
“Ok, now in all seriousness, (Y/N)” he tried to regain his composure and you snorted at him as he bit his lip to suppress another laugh. “I have something to tell you- please breathe… slowly” His gaze was heavy with feigned disdain as he turned around to not laugh at your violent rapid breathing caused by another burst of laughs. You inhaled deeply trying to calm yourself.
“So?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Have I told you the reason why I never accepted the two confessions I ever received?”
You gasped. You had been pestering him, one of your best friends into telling you but nothing had worked. “No! But please do tell me! I can’t believe it is finally happening!” you grinned at his question.
He breathed in slowly, as he started the word vomit, he saw your grin slowly disappear. As your eyes slowly went down. His heart his head started spinning. His face was becoming red, he wanted to turn back and get inside his home like that afternoon all those months ago. His whole being felt as if he had his guts stolen.
“And I didn’t worked up the courage up until now to tell you.” He sighed, for the first time, defeated. “I like you more than a friend, I-”
His eyes went wide when you hugged him by the neck and kept pressing pecks to his cheek. Then that hollowness became a party of elephants dancing on his gut. He finally turned to you, on your face shined the biggest smile you could manage.
“Yakkun, I was supposed to confess to you today, you stole my idea.” If he could have turned an even deeper shade of red he would have, he worked his hands up to your face and kissed your temple and smiled through his embarrassment.
Months passed by fast, as he had made the arrangements to move to Russia and play on the Super League. Lev had been helping him to make the contacts. You were currently on your third year, and whenever you could go home early you helped him studying Russian, you helped him craft flash cards and as you said the word in Japanese he answered always making a different grin. Much tp your laugh. You also helped him on his writing… you both sadly sucked at it. You tried to have non-study-dates-because-you-also-need-to-stop-worrying-about-me-and-school. Yakkun also helped whenever you found problem in a class… which wasn’t really often, but he was glad whenever you asked him for advice. Days after you got your college acceptance letter from college, he left Japan.
Yakkun had fallen asleep remembering the times you had stayed awake studying as he made you company over a video call or he had stayed awake after a particularly rough training just to have a “meal” with you.
His phone buzzed, once, twice, and the third time he picked it up. A pool of drool had formed under his face. He squinted his eyes at bright screen.
“(Y/N)?” he asked with a groan.
“Salutations, Mori!” over the speaker he heard the car engine.
“What is it?” He yawned as he stretched his arms and some of his joints cracked.
“I-” you hesitated before answering. “I found something really cool, I was wondering if you could join me.”
He rubbed his eyes, before turning to see his phone screen.
3:00 AM
He sighed with defeat. “Sure, just let me put a shirt on.”
You drived off, he took the copilot seat and dozed off yet again. You felt guilty of waking him in the middle of the night, but you had been waiting for this the whole week. Earlier you had called Kuroo just make sure the team had a free day before resuming their training. You side eyed him as how he curled on the seat breathing softly. The light of the city were getting behind as you approached your destination. The small lights of the highway and your car illuminated the way.
“Mori, we are here.” You gently shaked him. You were parked on a resting spot. In front it had a small hill covered with grass. The moon cleared the way. Mori had just woken up again and was getting out as you unloaded the trunk. You got some small snacks in a bag and a blanket.
“You woke me up at 3 AM… For this?” he was ired. And his expression showed clear dissatisfaction. “Listen, (Y/N) I know it is- Are you even listening?”
You had turned your face up and a teeth smile crept on your face. You lowered your face and moved your hand up so he could see. A meteor shower painted the sky as he looked up in awe and the it hit him, you had been mentioning this the whole week.
“You forgot, didn’t you?” He looked at you his face had softened as he approached you.
“I’m sorry (Y/N).” he murmured grabbing taking the bag. You turned your head side to side.
“You’ve been working to the bone lately.” You took a step nearer and cupped his face with your free hand. Your eyes locked with his soft gaze as he smiled fondly. His forehead rested on yours and then he pushed his lips to yours, your skin started to get goose bumps as you exhaled , you had been yearning for this.
“Did you know it was worth to get up at this time?”
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ranvwoop · 3 years
Note
TALK ABOUT AMERICAN HEALTHCARE I HAVE AN IDEA OF WHY IT'S THERE BUT I WANNA HEAR THE EXPLANATION ALSO THE ONLY HOUSE THAT"S NOT ON FIRE (YET) FOR THE SAME REASON I JUST WANNA SEE THE ANALYSIS:TM: IF U WANT I WANNA SEE IF I GOT IT RIGHT :D
Hi :DDD. Thank u for asking,,,, I have many thoughts. I am sorry in advance. This is one of those things I will put under a readmore because I am into rambling. IT GOT A LOT LONGER THAN ANTICIPATED IM SORRY. Like. a lot. It was 4 pages in google docs because i dont trust tumblr to save my drafts
Okay a lot of my Ranboo thoughts are about the syndicate / boreal trio / peerpressure duo. But you’re probably aware I am a Them enthusiast first and both a dsmp enjoyer and person second. Because. I really like the syndicate. I also don’t have too too many thoughts on the more recent lore past the experiments. Once the in character monologues stopped, so did my brain. I communicate through monologue to monologue communication.
American Healthcare is actually gonna be the main reason why this is so long bc it works Very Much for like three different reasons. One sorta niche and abstracter reason is a stream that was basically never elaborated on back in March, either the day after or very close to the peerpressure Egg confrontation stream. The egg called him a coward (for some reason my brain can Only come up with the “stop saying i look like chicken little. he’s dumb, and a coward, and i am NOT a coward” vine), and he is not a coward, so he decided to make an action plan to bring the server together by acting as a mediator for all parties and try to make sure that everyone is happy, because he’s the only one that can see all sides, or something. This was where he said the big happy family™ line but other than Ranboo Become Dream?? analysis nothing else really happened and everything went along as normal.
(I also always held a little bit of suspicion on this stream actually and thought it might be the influence of the egg, because it says it can give one whatever they want, and ranboo wants to make everyone happy and this was a totally foolproof way of doing that. Sort of in a similar way that BBH is convinced that his plan will totally make Skeppy happy. But also Ranboo is just like that, but this felt a little more on the nose than usual and he did fall into the egg and made his decisions after being egged on by it, buT WE’LL NEVER KNOW, WILL WE?
… also I really wanted to see more egg conflict at the time. Peerpressure rlly got involved in the egg plot for cameos at the banquet and nothing else. I do not blame anyone and respect the ccs for all of their attempts to weave plots together but also. also…. we.. we coulda had so much…)
That was a little off topic from the point, but… he really just thinks he can save the sick… he can see that everyone on the server is unwell and is wrong but, y’know, look inwardly, the unwell is coming from inside the house. And an inherent problem of the way that the server runs. And if this is still lowkey in effect or not (idk man a) ranboo has monologued a lot I simply chose a one off from march to grow emotionally attached to and b) i think that my brain has shut off once ranboo stopped solo lore streams), it would probably go the way that most choosing to change the system from the inside goes. Which is the point of the song and stuff! He will inevitably decide what’s too far, whether he will either admit it’s a choice or just feel that it’s what he has to do. The, uh, dealing with the devil, to be polite.
in conclusion (but we are not close to done here i’m holding you for a bit longer), i think a lot about that stream and i think that shows what he wants to be, at the very least, and continuing down that path would definitely go into being far more trouble than just a noble goal of wanting to help people, from negotiating with corruption (The lobbyists, the Congressmen and lies bit) and that the server can’t really be brought together and saved like that (When things are more and more this way / Sometimes it's like they'd rather die)
THE LESS. vwoop why have you written an unnecessarily long post about one stream in your playlist character analysis reason is both more literal and piece by piece and also Syndicate, My Beloved, you know the drill. We are going line by line because I have a lot of feelings about American Healthcare, apparently.
This also comes back to that everyone on the server is doing Really Badly, all of the time, but mostly his time in L’Manburg. For one, he is pretty complacent in everything and doesn’t really accomplish much in terms of actual change, so like Well people die every day / I wouldn't have it any other way / I just think they should feel good while they are alive. An example of this is Exiled Tommy — who I’d also metaphorically put as the dead man just for funsies, since Tommy’s whole exile thing was one of the first things Ranboo experienced on the server—as he did try to be friends with Tommy and keep him company with his letters, but he still has no power over the actual issue at hand. Just trying to make it a bit more bearable. Similarly is Techno, while Ranboo still participated in the butcher army that was trying to kill him, he helped in the meantime until he “died”.
And then it’s the Realization that participating in the system doesn’t really help much, and the subsequent Everything. It could be getting mad at the whole government system and that he didn’t mean to contribute to the harm, or how he fought with Fundy using hs ideology but not in the way that Ranboo thought. It could also be standing up to his hallucination Dream, in that he doesn’t try this hard to be a good person just to be accused of helping with all of the things that he may or may not have helped with. (That is… a discussion for not right now, I don’t know.) And I think this sort of area is also where it’s like they’d rather die is also relevant, cause Doomsday. Nobody could just set aside their governments and just get along, though Ranboo had his own solution to fighting and things.
And then he joins the Syndicate! And the lyrics of the song are directly Government Bad, because government bad. Canon anarchist, has done things that he’s not proud of as a part of the government. The lines it was the government / … It got louder over the years / Until all that I could hear was flies and all.
But honestly I think in the Syndicate he’s still trying to “save the sick”! Because the Syndicate don’t All fit eye to eye either. He’s the token pacifist, and a vote against violence whenever it comes down to it. Not all anarchists are violent but Techno and Phil will probably react strongly when provoked, due to All the past events, and I live in a world where their trauma and issues get talked about as much as everyone else’s. Since everything is decided by vote it’d probably be split between them and Ranboo + Niki, who is in her healing/no longer resorting to murder arc. He’ll help them negotiate and then everything will Be Okay, ideally.
(Also I just like the idea of Ranboo believing that he is helping the people he’s living with because canonically cc!Ranboo has said he just really cares about his family and the syndicate are included in his family shut up but they also just believe they’re helping him and yes it’s self indulgent. I care them. Particularly Endduo, actually, or whatever they're called, I am not bold enough to think Ranboo looks at Techno and thinks I Can Fix Him, but. Philza Minecraft will one day talk about his feelings. One day.)
There’s also radioduo and beeduo as of recent— really I’m just saying I think that Ranboo constantly has a Need To Help People, believes he can do it, and it will come back to hurt him in the end (except for the Syndicate because I’m in denial. The Syndicate can’t fall out if they never stream together :) ).
THIS CONCLUDES THE AMERICAN HEALTHCARE PORTION OF OUR SHOW.
The Only House That’s Not on Fire Yet !! I like this one. This is also blatantly there cause Syndicate. They are the only faction that is not actively falling apart, and this could absolutely be because they never stream together. But I do not care. However we are also going to go through this one piece by piece because we’re nearing 1500 words here and I might as well embarrass myself more. I am writing an incredibly informal essay about Ranboo My _Beloved (i assume his middle name is My, and he’s just one of those people who write his full full name) and this is the third page. If you’re still reading this, I’m sorry. Here we go.
There are lines that just seem like an unwell but recovering person, and I like to sort of think that way about Ranboo in the arctic during the down time. “I feel knotted up today / But in a most exquisite way” and “I feel strangely regular / But honestly I prefer it to / The usual bizarre” are just! He’s just hanging out. He’s doing good. There is the acknowledgement that he’s usually not doing well, and all of the episodes that he’s had in the past, and it’s probably strange to be doing well in the midst of everything, and there’s probably something impending, but now? He’s doing good!
The verses directly after both of those ones are about uncertainty and trust and such, and I feel like that’s not necessarily about just One relationship but all of them. Will cause problems as long as he has an accomplice. He is not confident but he trusts and loves people.
“This suit doesn’t fit me / I made it conterfeitly” I just like to think about Ranboo in his fancy suit, but it’s just a little wrong because he actually has no idea what he’s doing. I also like to think about Ranboo in a cape to fit in with boreal trio and later the syndicate, and emerald duo had matchy blue outfits from the Antarctic Empire… and trying to fit in with them…. or maybe They make him something.. You know. Much to think about.
“Killing me with déjà vu” I think is like. A little less fun, because despite how well things are going, the enderwalk is still not resolved and he had even less answers when I started thinking “this is a ranboo song”. Just as it relates to having a strange sense of reality and stuff, which goes into specifics of enderwalk headcanons, which would make this far longer. Even though I’ve framed it as a negative, there is also the more positive note of “Oh! I just thought of how to change all the hate / Into love with the old switcheroo / Dancing in my déjà vu / You'll be dancing too” which I’d rather explain broken up but I feel like as it’s a full verse it should be together. The first part is connected to my general thoughts of him explained earlier tbh, he’s trying Very Hard to make everyone happy and fix things. And adding the second part to it is just like! He is trying to make sense of everything, and it’s not so scary as time goes by. Since the experiments where he’s been (questionably) trying to be more comfortable and get more answers.
This was very long. I am sorry. I am ending it here and probably not going to do much formatting to make it readable because it is very late o’clock and also this is four pages and 2000 words I am so sorry. But if you read this far then. Uhhh thank. ^v^.
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whumphoarder · 4 years
Text
Death by Waffles
Summary: When Tony decides to adopt a cat for Morgan, Peter is almost more excited about it than the six-year-old. He just failed to mention one minor issue before coming to visit at the lake house for the weekend.
Or, in which Peter is horrifically allergic to cats but JUST LOVES THEM SO MUCH.
Word count: 1,638
Genre: Fluff, slight whump, humor
A/N: Thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx & @sallyidss for beta reading and giving me ideas! 
Link to read on Ao3
“I still think we should have called him Winston Furrchill,” Tony says with a shrug, watching Peter, who’s sitting cross legged on the living room floor, grinning ear-to-ear, stroking the long-haired cat’s fur.
“That’s so boorrring, Daddy,” Morgan complains. She grabs the little feather teaser and dangles it in front of the cat’s face. He lifts a paw lazily to bat at it. “All your ideas were so boring.”
“What are you talking about?” Tony balks at her, eliciting giggles from Peter and a dramatic groan from the six-year-old. “My ideas were gold. Mr. Meowgi. Bill Clawsby. Genghis Khat.”
Peter snaps once and shoots a finger gun Tony’s direction. “Luke Skywhisker!” he throws in, causing Morgan to groan. “Ooh! Call him Nick Furr-y!”
“No! His name is Waffles!” Morgan exclaims, throwing up her hands in exasperation and causing the kitty in question to dart across the room and dive into his favorite hiding place—the cardboard box that his brand new, untouched, three-hundred-dollar cat tree came in. Tony just rolls his eyes; it’s behavior like this that makes him almost regret spending the last four days in the workshop designing that damn feline an elaborate catwalk and perch system spanning every room of the lake house.
(Almost.)
Morgan sticks her lip out in a pout.
“Aw, Mo, we were just teasing,” Peter says, patting her arm with a kind smile. “Waffles is a great name—I love it.”
That seems to console her. She grins back at him. “It’s ‘cus when we brought him home, he was really scared the first day and he just wanted to hide under my bed. So Daddy said I could eat breakfast in my room with him so he’d feel safer, but then I had to go to the bathroom and when I was gone he stole my waffle,” she rambles.
Peter quirks an eyebrow. “Your cat ate a waffle?”
Morgan nods. “Uh-huh, and then he puked it up again on the carpet!” she explains cheerfully.
“Ah yes, fond memories…” Tony mutters.
“So I named him Waffles,” Morgan concludes. “But I almost called him Syrup, ‘cus he got that on his paws when he walked on the plate, and then he ran around everywhere and it was all sticky. Mommy says that’s why we got ants after.”
While Peter snorts out a laugh, Tony just runs a hand over his face and sighs. “It’s been a long week.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Peter laughs, rubbing a hand at his eyes. He uncrosses his legs and gets to his feet to walk over to the box where Morgan is trying to lure Waffles out again. “I always wanted a cat, but May never let me get one—said they were too much hassle.”
“They are,” Tony says emphatically.
“Are not,” Morgan disagrees. As Peter sits down by the box, she picks up the bag of kitty treats and starts shaking it, causing Waffles to poke his head out. She pours out three little treats onto her open palm. He sniffs them suspiciously, then turns his nose up and buries himself back in the box.
Morgan turns to Tony and shrugs. “I don’t think he likes chicken flavor anymore. You gotta get him the salmon ones, Daddy.”
“But you told me this morning that he doesn’t like salmon,” Tony argues. “He only eats the premium chicken with gravy.”
Morgan shakes her head. “No, no that’s his wet food. He only eats dry salmon, and wet chicken. And sometimes tuna, but only that one in the blue bag.”
“And waffles,” Peter throws in with a wry smile, sitting down to start stroking the cat inside the box. “Don’t forget the waffles, Mr. Stark.”
“At this rate, I’m thinking it’d be better to just install a cat flap and let him find his own mice for dinner,” Tony grumbles.
As if on cue, Waffles meows irritably and leaps out of the cardboard box, straight onto Peter’s lap. However in doing so, the cat’s fluffy tail tickles the kid’s nose. Peter sneezes twice—rather violently—startling the cat to the point that it shoots across the room and climbs halfway up the drapes.
“Waffles!” Morgan cries and races after him.
Sniffling a bit, Peter gives a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”
Tony rolls his eyes and extends a hand to help lever the kid up again. Peter rubs at his eyes again—which Tony notices are redder than usual. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously. “Are you sure ‘too much hassle’ was the only reason May was against you having cats?”
Something flashes across Peter’s face, but it’s gone just as soon as it appears. “Yeah, yeah of course. Well, that and she’s more of a dog person, really, but they’re not allowed in the apartment.”
“Hm.” Tony glances at his watch. “Alright, well it’s almost His Royal Highness’ dinner time.” He gestures to the kitchen. “Let’s go see if we can get him to choke down some caviar and truffles or something…”
X
Three hours later, Tony can’t ignore the signs any longer. After witnessing Peter’s third sneezing fit since dinner, he privately pulls the kid out into the kitchen. “Pete, c’mon,” he sighs. “Just admit it already.”
Taking a tissue from the box Tony holds out to him, Peter shrugs innocently. “Alright, you got me. Guess I’m coming down with a cold.” He wipes his nose.
Tony raises an eyebrow. “A cold that began ten minutes after entering our home and has only gotten progressively worse since?”
Peter chuckles a bit. “Yeah, go figure, right? Perfect timing for my weekend off. What does Doctor Banner call that again?” He tilts his head to the side in thought. “Starts with an L…”
“Pete…”
“Leisure sickness!” he recalls, his face lighting up. “That’s the word. Think I’ve got that.”
Rolling his eyes, Tony starts ticking each symptom off on his fingers. “Your nose is running, your eyes are watery, you’re sneezing—”
“Which is all from the cold,” Peter cuts him off. He coughs twice into his elbow. “See? Sick.”
Tony scoffs. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once admitted to being sick unprompted.” He pauses a beat. “Including that time you were actively vomiting.”
Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck and gives a sheepish grin. “So I'm really demonstrating growth, then, huh?”
Tony ignores him and soldiers on. “You’re itching,” he says, gesturing to the red welts emerging on Peter’s forearms and neck. “You’re getting a rash—”
Peter tugs his hoodie sleeves down to cover them. “I think that’s the new laundry soap I’ve been using...”
Tony blinks at him. “Your eyes are bright red, kid.”
Peter opens his mouth to retort something, but then closes it again. He drops his gaze to the floor and lets out a hard sigh. “Okay… okay you’re right,” he admits. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t wanna say it around Morgan.” He looks up and, with a totally straight expression, whispers, “I’ve been smoking weed, Mr. Stark. I’m actually tripping balls right now.”
“Peter, just admit that you’re allergic to cats!”
“Huh?” Morgan cries from the living room where she has her kitty on her lap while she watches Curious George. “Peter’s allergic to Waffles?!” The cat dives off her lap and out into the kitchen, hiding behind Peter’s leg.
Peter winces. Then his nose wrinkles up and he sneezes four times into his wad of tissues. When he draws in his next breath, it’s more of a wheeze.
Tony heaves out a sigh. “Alright, we’re done here.” He bends down and scoops the cat up. “Waffles is staying in Pep’s office for the remainder of this weekend.”
“What?” Morgan blurts.
“Yeah, what?” Peter echos, snatching the cat back from Tony’s arms. “You can’t do that!”
“Pete, he’s making you sick,” Tony points out as Peter sneezes yet again. “If you’re already this bad in three hours, how do you expect to breathe in a couple more days?”
Peter looks stricken. “But… But you don’t understand.” He hugs the cat a little tighter and Tony swears he can see fresh hives emerging on Peter’s neck. “I just love him so much, Mr. Stark,” he says earnestly. “I would honestly die for this cat.”
Tony sighs and pats his shoulder consolingly. “Yeah, and that’s looking more and more like it might become reality, kiddo...”
X
It takes some convincing—and a bit of bribery—but eventually he gets the kids to agree to his plan. In the end, Morgan and Peter settle for a six-foot-tall ‘Royal Castle Kitty Condo’ (complete with a litter moat) in exchange for Waffles’ temporary banishment. He then sends Peter to the guest room while he and Morgan transfer the cat’s most essential supplies into the office, grateful for once that Pepper’s staying downtown this weekend.
Waffles promptly makes himself at home on the very top of her bookshelf—after first knocking over two glass figurines and a meticulously ordered stack of papers, sending legal documents flying around the room.
(Tony wonders just what kind of royal castle equivalent he’s going to have to bribe Pepper with when she gets back.)
X
It’s 12:16 a.m. when Tony remembers that they forgot to give Waffles his anti-hairball paste that evening and comes grumbling out of bed to do so.
It’s 12:19 a.m. when Tony opens the office door to see Peter, sitting on the floor with that damn cat curled up in his lap, wheezing out a high-pitched chant of, “Who’s a good kitty? Who’s a good boy?” between puffs of his inhaler as he strokes Waffles’ fur.
It’s 12:21 a.m. when Tony just gives up trying to reason with the kid and goes raiding the bathroom cabinets for Benadryl.
X
Link to all my fics
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Don't leave me to breathe Don't leave me to bleed
Another sickfic! Let me know if I missed any tags or if something is wrong! I really love trans martin and HoH Tim so I threw some in there
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Martin Blackwood was good at taking care of others.
He grew up taking care of his mum, and had grown accustomed to taking care of his friends and colleagues at work.
He took care of Jon when he would allow, making sure he slept and ate.
He took care of Tim when he was struck with a migraine at work, and was immobilized for a few hours.
He took care of Sasha when she got food poisoning from a street vendor, and drove her to the hospital when she was too dehydrated and needed an IV, and stayed with her until Tim got there.
The only person he couldn’t take care of, though, was himself.
So when he woke up that morning, feeling overly warm, and like he had cotton in his head, he still pushed himself off his cheap mattress, and went about his morning, pointedly ignoring the blossoming symptoms, assuming he was just overtired.
The morning went by quick enough, nothing too important happening, he got some work done, probably not enough to please Jon, but as much as he could do.
It wasn’t until lunch that things began to go downhill.
It was a Friday, meaning they ordered in food and all ate together in the breakroom, a sort of team bonding Tim suggested, it usually went well enough, with Tim and Sasha doing most of the talking and Jon interjecting when he saw fit, and Martin laughing at jokes, but largely staying quiet.
Today, however, Martin couldn’t even bring himself to smile at Tim’s jokes, or reply to questions outside of a noise.
He poked at his salad with his fork, not hungry enough to eat, and too tired to make tea for himself to see if it would help his throat or the cough he had, which now sat deep in his chest.
He wasn’t sure if anyone noticed, he had done his best to keep quiet, to muffle his coughs if he couldn’t hold them in, and tried not to blow his nose outside of the bathroom.
He stood up from the lunch table, hoping to be able to slip away without much notice from the others, and to be able to go sit in his office and work as much as he could before the day was done.
However, his plans were foiled as his vision darkened, and he heard Sasha ask if he was alright, before everything went black.
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Tim knew something was up with Martin.
The first sign, was that after the morning tea rounds, no one saw him again until lunch, which was unusual saying he usually would come around and see how everyone was doing that morning.
At lunch, they ordered Italian from a small place a few blocks away, and gathered at the small table in the breakroom to eat.
Normally, Martin was quiet with Jon around, but today he was even quieter, and it was unnerving.
Tim and Sasha shared a concerned look when they noticed Martin wasn’t even eating the salad he ordered, but they weren’t completely worried until Martin got up, after not eating anything, and promptly passed out.
Tim called his name, and was out of his seat in seconds, kneeling next to Martin, along with Sasha and Jon, to surround the fallen man on the ground, however it was Sasha that took the next action, noticing how much he was sweating and shivering, she reached up to brush her hand over his forehead.
“He’s burning up.”
Tim swore quietly, he knew something was up but hadn’t thought that he might have been sick until now.
He looked up at Sasha and Jon, Sasha was crouched down next to Martin, and Jon stood awkwardly behind her, his hands fidgeting anxiously in front of him.
Knew he didn’t hate him
“Jon, go grab the first aid kit.”
Jon nodded, and walked swiftly away to go and locate what Sasha had told him to.
Tim looked at Sasha and felt his heartbeat inside his chest.
How did I get so lucky?
He slapped that thought away, they needed to focus on Martin now.
Tim was getting worried, Martins breaths were shallow, and wheezing, he cursed, realizing that Martin, despite his skill at taking care of others and general intelligence, was still wearing his binder.
No wonder his breathing is so off.
Tim cursed, but before he could say anything, Jon came back in the room, having found the first aid kit.
Sasha thanked him and took a thermometer from the small pack of disposable ones they kept in there, before lightly shaking Martin awake.
“Martin, hey, sweetie, you’re running a fever, can I take your temperature, please?”
Martin made a noise, and his eyes fluttered open, looking dizzily at Sasha before quickly trying to push himself up, but only triggering a violent coughing fit.
“Come on, big guy, let’s get you sitting up, yeah?”
Tim carefully shifted Martin so his back was against Tim’s chest, where he was propped up in hopes to relieve some of the coughing.
When the fit subsided, Sasha quickly gave him the thermometer, but Martin shook his head and started to mumble something, that none of them could quite understand.
“Martin, let us get a reading on your fever, okay hun?”
Martin shook his head, still struggling to breathe, before finally being able to say what he was trying to.
“I- I need my inhaler, in desk drawer”
Before anyone even had to ask, Jon was out the door quickly to go grab it, and Sasha finally got Martin to let her put the thermometer into his mouth, and after it had gotten the reading, she sighed with relief.
“Nothing too bad, 38.1, but that cough doesn’t sound the best.”
Martin didn’t have enough breath to reply, but luckily he didn’t need too, as Jon was back with the inhaler.
After taking the meds, Martin went to go and stand up but was immediately stopped by Tim’s hands on his shoulder.
“Take a second, and then we can get you home.”
Martin shook his head, and stood up, brushing Tim’s hand away.
“I’m fine, I’m so sorry you had to see that, really I’m okay”
It was Jon’s turn to step forward, he looked at Martin, and took in the other mans face; his eyes were glossed over with fever, a high flush on his cheeks, and pale skin.
“Martin, you need to go home, and rest. Don’t come back until you’re recovered.”
And with that, Jon left the room, leaving an upset Martin in his wake, but Tim stood up from the ground and put a reassuring hand on Martin’s shoulder.
“Let’s get you home, you’re sick and need to rest, and to take of your binder, good sir”
Tim’s lip curled up as he said the last part, knowing he had called Martin out, Sasha gave Martin a disapproving but loving glare.
“Thank you for not bringing that up with him around, and in my defense, I didn’t realize I was sick this morning.”
Martin laughed a little, careful not the trigger another coughing fit, but Tim just pushed him in a light playful way.
“Let’s go get your stuff, and I’ll drive you home, don’t want you walkin home like this.”
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Tim got Martin home with little to no problem, Martin fell asleep in his car, and only woke up when Tim shook him awake.
“Come on, let’s get you inside, then you can sleep.”
As soon as they were inside, Martin collapsed onto the couch, out of breath from the short walk into his flat.
“Uh-uh, not yet, gotta put on pajamas and get into bed before you can sleep, alright?”
Martin groaned but stood up and went to do as told, and by the time Tim filled a glass of water and found the fever reducers, Martin was already in bed, drifting to sleep, Tim shook him awake so he could take the meds, and then he immediately fell asleep again.
Tim set down the inhaler and water on the night table, and brushed a hand against Martin‘s face, and sighed, before sitting on the couch, and began to pass time.
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Sasha came over a few hours later, bringing soup, sports drinks, and some more medication, Martin hadn’t woken up yet, so she and Tim sat on his couch and talked, they spoke of how oblivious Jon was to Martins crush, and they worked on some follow-ups together.
“You guys didn’t have to stay.”
Martin was awake, and standing in the doorway of his room, looking half asleep with a blanket wrapped around him, he shuffled over closer to them, knowing Tim couldn’t hear him well from that far away, and Sasha scooched over on the couch, practically on Tim’s lap, and patted the couch.
“Come on, you need to be resting.”
Martin made a noise, but sat on the couch, curled in the corner, after a few minutes, his head lulled to the side in a position that would hurt his neck, so Sasha poked him, and carefully pulled him towards her.
Martin mumbled something, but didn’t object more and allowed himself to lay down. Using Sasha’s lap as a pillow, she started the run her hand through his hair, while Tim smiled and let himself relax.
The next day when Martin woke up, he would ramble about how he was going to get them sick, but Tim just laughed and said how he had an immune system, but was proved wrong when on Monday, he came down with the same illness Martin had, and reluctantly allowed Martin to fuss over him, Sasha wouldn’t get sick, but she still helped take care of Tim, and Jon laid back on the constantly insulting Martin that week, but denied it of course.
But for now, he drifted off to sleep, feeling loved for the first time in a long time.
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Okay I am hyperfixating HARD on Tom and Jerry and all my emotions from childhood have FLOODED forth, so now that I’ve finished watching (almost) all 161 original theatrical Tom and Jerry shorts from 1940 to 1967, I would like to force you all to endure my insane ramblings about this franchise. Although before I begin, I’d like to share where I’ve been watching all these! Here’s a Dailymotion playlist of all 161 shorts, put into the correct order by yours truly :3 OKAY NOW THE INSANITY BEGINS 💖💖💖
1) The Messy Formative Years: Shorts 001-017 (1940-1944)
So obviously, when a series is first created, especially an animated series, the first few episodes will always be a bit odd as the directors and writers find their footing and establish the rules of their own universe, and Tom and Jerry is no exception! In fact, these episodes can be a bit weird and even jarring to watch because the designs of the titular characters are so drastically different from how they look even ten years afterwards. In fact, in the very first episode, they don’t even have their official names yet and are instead named “Jasper and Jinx.” Also, there’s a LOT of talking in these beginning shorts before they decided to make Tom and Jerry almost entirely mute. Shorts 010 and 013 stand out the most, as they feature characters regularly speaking full sentences and it’s just... ohhh it’s SO weird to watch and it feels almost wrong 😅 Of course that’s not to say these shorts are bad, far from it actually! They’re still super fun and fascinating to watch and I think it’s quite interesting to see how such an iconic franchise got its start!
2) The Golden Years: Shorts 018-097 (1945-1955)
Oh. My. GOD. THESE ARE THE ABSOLUTE BEST. I guarantee that when you just think about Tom and Jerry, THESE are the shorts that come to mind. By now William Hanna & Joseph Barbara fully had their formula down and were just pumping out hit after hit afTER HIT HHHHH I LOVE THESE SO MUCH. I’m not kidding when I say that these shorts still make me laugh really hard and I absolutely adore nearly every aspect of them: the fluid and extremely expressive animation, the excellently timed music paired with each short, and the humor that’s constant and lands almost every time. My absolute favorite ones are around 040-080 but really all of these are just sooooo good. I know that this is stating the obvious but one thing that I especially love is just how VIOLENT these cartoons are, even more than the Looney Tunes shorts that were coming out at the same time. Characters are constantly picking up knives or axes or straight up GUNS and ngl I feel like half of the humor comes from that shock factor of the insane absurdity of that violence. Okay I’m starting to sound rly dumb, I know explaining the joke is never fun, but the directing and animation just NAILS every joke; I think the secret behind it is that there’s always a buildup and anticipation before the impact, and that buildup just makes the impact all the more intense! I was going to list my top 5 favorites but it’s impossible to choose so lemme just recommend a random five out of all of them: 026 - Solid Serenade, 048 - Saturday Evening Puss, 067 - Triplet Trouble, 069 - Fit to Be Tied, and 076 - That’s My Pup!
Also, I don’t know where else to mention this so I’ll just say it here: there’s a gradual change that Tom’s design goes through where he’s slowly drawn to be less and less fuzzy. At first his outline was drawn with a lot of points to emphasize his fur, but over time they abandoned doing that, my guess is because it was harder to animate. I’d say that they fully transitioned to Smooth Tom around short 030. That’s just a little detail I noticed and wanted to share! ^-^
3) The Slow Decay: Shorts 098-114 (1956-1958)
*heavy sigh* Well... a good thing can’t last forever. What’s kinda strange is that I can’t really nail down a specific reason caused a decline in quality after 1955; short 096 was the last to be produced by Fred Quimby, with Hanna & Barbara being given the producer credit as well as director credit for the remaining 18 shorts, and MGM animation studios had major budget cuts in the late 50′s and was shut down in 1957, and perhaps the studio shutting down had also taken the joy out of the crew, which would certainly have an effect on the cartoons. Now that doesn’t mean that these last 16 shorts are bad- they’re still quite entertaining, but they just don’t have the same energy as the shorts made in the Golden Years. They’re also nowhere near as cartoonishly violent as the past shorts had been; weapons are almost never used anymore and there are barely any efforts from Tom and Jerry to straight up kill each other, and more often than not they’re working together and even acting like close friends. I think that’s pretty fair evidence that even if these later shorts were much tamer and friendlier, that meant that they were lacking the same chaotic energy that made the other shorts so hilarious. 
Also I just need to vent this here cuz this era also contains the two most absolutely infuriating shorts in the Hanna-Barbera era, that being 100 - Busy Buddies and 114 - Tot Watchers. These two shorts consist of Tom and Jerry attempting to stop a baby from accidentally dying cuz it’s just a dumb baby that doesn’t know anything, while the babysitter is just totally ignorant to everything happening. Now I can’t quite explain why and I’m probably just making myself look like an asshole but these shorts are just... so frustrating to me??? Like its bad enough that this stupid baby whose face NEVER changes from that stupid little smile just keeps wandering into dangerous situations (in Tot Watchers it straight up crawls into a CONSTRUCTION ZONE) but every time Tom rescues the little bastard and puts it back in its crib, the babysitter thinks he’s “bothering” the baby (probably because of that one myth about cats laying on babies and stealing their breath) and so poor Tom is just punished for doing literally nothing wrong!! It’s just... very frustrating to me for some reason I’m sorry... (Although I have to admit that it is interesting and kinda cute that Tom knows how to change a diaper, like wif the safety pins and everything. Why does he know that...?)
4) The Gene Deitch Shit Shorts: 115-127 (1961-1962)
OOOH BOY. I don’t think... that I can really describe how purely and utterly I dislike the Deitch shorts. Okay so, to explain, in 1961 MGM decided they wanted to revive the Tom and Jerry franchise, so they contracted an animation studio based in Czechoslovakia to create 13 new original shorts. All of these shorts were directed by Gene Deitch, who before being commissioned for these cartoons, was open about his disdain for the original Hanna-Barbera shorts that he described as “needlessly violent.” After he was assigned to the series, he did come around to somewhat realize that the violence was intended to be overly cartoonish and humorous, but his initial opinion still had an influence on his directing decisions. In addition to these facts, the foreign team behind this series had only collectively seen a handful of the original cartoons, and each short was given a budget of only $10,000, compared to the $50,000 that the Hanna-Barbera shorts had all been given.
SO. To recap, these 13 new shorts were being made by a foreign team who had barely seen any of the source material, directed by a man who had disliked the original cartoons, and being made on 1/5 of the budget that the Hanna-Barbera shorts were given. Needless to say, the end results were a DISASTER. I’m not kidding when I say that watching these shorts feels almost like a fever dream with how completely baffling and surreal they are. I honestly don’t think they could be any more different from the original series; the music and sound effects are extremely minimalist and usually completely absent, the animation is so jerky and totally lacking the fluidity of the originals, and the character design is also drastically different and, in my opinion, kinda ugly too. These are universally considered to be the worst of the theatrical shorts, and Deitch himself has even stated that he and his team “hardly had a chance to succeed” and he fully understands the negativity directed towards the shorts he directed. I have to confess that when I rewatched all the theatrical shorts, I only got through two of these before outright skipping the rest of them. These 13 shorts are a complete disgrace to the majesty of the Hanna-Barbera series, and while I don’t hold anything against the people behind them, I can’t lie when I say that I hate these shorts. 
5) The Chuck Jones Era: 128-161 (1963-1967)
I have an odd love-hate relationship with these shorts. I don’t think I need to explain to you the legacy of the great Chuck Jones, the creator of Marvin the Martian, Pepe Le Pew, and the Roadrunner and Wile E. Coyote whose name is nearly synonymous with the Looney Tunes cartoons of the 30′s, 40′s, and 50′s. He’s an absolute legend in the animation industry, and yet... the Tom and Jerry shorts that he directed are still significantly weaker than the original series. Let me start with the things I like though! The slight changes in the character design to match Chuck Jones’ signature style are super appealing (I especially like how at times, Tom will almost resemble Jones’ design for the Grinch) and the animation is of course very well done and a joy to watch, but despite these positives, the humor is sadly lacking. There are still quite a few jokes that land, but they’re more restrained and just don’t have the same high-energy oomph! of the impactful gunshot sound effects and violent screams of the original cartoon. I’ll always have an appreciation for this era of shorts and the man behind them, but they sadly didn’t even come halfway close to the Hanna-Barbera series.
WELL. ANYWAY, THAT’S MY RANT!!! Thanks for reading this far, all two people that did. It just felt good to get this outta my system! 💖💖
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