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forever-rogue · 9 months

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Hello there Bee, your writing for Miguel O'Hara was perfect, thank you so much for it 🫂

I was wondering if you could do one where he's so deeply in love with her but doesn't want to tell her because he's afraid of being rejected, he wants to protect her so they always go to missions together until one day she gets hurt and because he's afraid of loosing her, he finally tells her how he's been feeling for a long time

Thank you so much c:

AN | It’s been a minute but here we are with some more grumpy x sunshine! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Nondescript mentions of violence, Language

Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Inhale. Exhale.

That's what you kept repeating to yourself as you approached the front doors to the Spider Headquarters. Your heart beat around your chest but you tried to push away all your worries and insecurities.

Well - the one major worry you had anyway. Most things didn't scare you anymore, you were well past that point in your life. It was one singular person that made you nervous. Miguel O'Hara.

The man that appeared to hate you more than anything or anyone else. You weren't even sure what you had done to bring on the hatred but it had appeared slowly at first and then all at once. Now you just tried to avoid him as much as you could, but in the event that you were faced with him, you tried to be as kind as possible. There was no reason to be mean, right? You hoped that one day Miguel might get that memo as well.

When you got inside, you looked around and tried to see if anything seemed out of place or…if there was some sort of chaos. But it all seemed utterly normal so you walked towards your little desk area.

"Hey there!" You startled at the sound of Peter's bright and happy voice, spinning around in your chair to find him watching you with an overly cheery smile, "how're you today?"

"I'm just peachy, Pete. What's going on?" The man's face flushed and you knew immediately that something was going on. He was so easy to read despite his best efforts.

"Umm…well," he waved his hands around for a moment, stammering nervous as you just stared at him, "well, I don't…your day might get worse."

"Oh?" You leaned back in your chair as you raised an eyebrow at him, "and just why is that? What do you know that I don't?"

"You're supposed to be partnered with…Miguel today," he said it so quickly that you almost didn't catch it. But the name stood out so clearly that you were immediately able to figure out what was going on, "just so you know, you know?"

"How do you know that?"

"Word spreads fast around here," he volunteered lamely, as you sighed at him, "and ugh, it might be my fault."

"What?!" He was afraid of exactly this reaction and flinched slightly, "Peter - why?"

"I have to be home today," he cleared his throat, "big family thing with MJ and Mayday. So…you know."

"Fine," you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, "fine. Only because I love your wife and daughter as much if not more than you."

"I am so sorry," he grimaced, "I'll make it up to you somehow."

"It's…it's fine," you swallowed the lump in your throat. It did suck…but you'd live and would just be as kind as usual. And it would be over before you knew it, "this is going to be…fantastic."

“Just don’t kill each other and it should all be fine,” Peter kept taking a few steps back, creating a further distance between the two of you, “and then we can all resume our normal programming next week!”

“I don’t hate him,” your voice softened as a frown tugged down the corners of your mouth. You truly didn’t hate him and you hated the idea that people would think you did. You always tried to treat everyone with the same kindness and you were known for being a ray of sunshine, “I think… I think he might hate me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Peter shrugged slightly as you sighed lightly, “he’s just that way with everyone. He’s a huge douche, you know that.”

“As much as I appreciate your opinions Parker,” both of you froze at the sound of his voice. He sounded just as annoyed and frustrated as ever, “I believe you were supposed to leave already to get back to your wife and daughter, no?”

“Uhh, yup…that’s…gotta go!” he looked between the two of you before offering you a small grimace and turning to basically sprint away. You bit the inside of your cheek before turning your attention to the man in question.

“Miguel, I-”

“Get suited up,” he didn’t even spare you an actual glance. He merely caught your eye before turning around to leave again, “we’re leaving in twenty. We’ve got a job to do.”

“Miguel.”

“Don’t be late,” he was already walking away again and all you could do was sigh, “or I will leave with you.”

Yeah, okay, cool, cool, cool. This apparently was going to be the absolute worst; part of you was almost tempted to be late just so you wouldn’t have to go. You weren’t feeling very welcome but at the same time, your duties were important and you weren’t about to let him go alone.

“Well then,” you attempted to psych yourself up, “let’s do this…and get it over with.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Miguel had been silent, to the point of it being almost eerie, besides giving you some instructions and directions. You'd tried to make some small talk at the start but the only responses you received were grunts or scoffs. It had definitely deflated your mood and after a while you gave up and remained silent.

"Hey," Miguel waved his hand in front of your face as you snapped back into attention. You hadn't realized you'd spaced out so much, "are you even paying attention?"

"Y-yeah…yes," you offered him a tight smile as he hung his head with a heavy sigh, "sorry. Could you just run that by me again?"

"I need you to focus," he caught your eye and there was a dangerous glint to him that caused you to swallow thickly, "otherwise I'll send you right back and this is the last time you'll get to go on a mission."

"That's not fair!" You hadn't meant to sound like a petulant child, but at least you hadn't also stomped your foot. His jaw twitched as he glared at you, "you've never said that to anyone-"

"Morales."

"He's a child," you ran a hand through your hair in exasperation, "this isn't fair, Miguel and you know that. Why do you hate me so much?"

If you'd been looking at his face you'd have noticed the way his face fell momentarily. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control the squeaking and stop the tears that threatened to well up.

"You're also so mean to me!" Alright. Maybe you were already sounding hysterical but it was a lot of emotions at once, "its always me! I try to be nice, Miguel. I don't like not being nice, it's just…not in my nature. But you make it so hard. A-and I'm not asking for anything spectacular, just a hello once a while or at least don't totally ignore me when I'm talking to you!"

“Are you finished?” his tone was the same as it always was: cold and calm and calculated. You tried to blink away the burning of your eyes.

“No,” you put your hands on your hips and stared him down, “if you’re going to be mean to me or act like I’m the worst thing in the world, can you at least tell me what I did to offend you so much? I mean - why even have me working with you and the rest of the team if you don’t trust me or think I’m worthy of being here! If I’m such a horrible person, just cut me loose and let me go so you never have to see me again!”

By the time you were done, angry tears had run down your cheeks which you hastily brushed away. You felt like you had just put your heart and feelings on the line and he didn’t seem phased. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow before sighing heavily, “if you’re done, we’ve got some bad guys to catch.”

“Y-you’re not even going to say anything to what I just said?” your lip trembled with effort not to cry further. He’d already turned his back to you and started to walk away. Only this time, you didn’t run after him to catch up, “fine! You know what? I quit! Do this yourself!”

You didn’t even wait for a response before turning on your heel and walking in the other direction. You were already out of sight by the time Miguel turned around and realized that you’d been serious. He ran a hand over his face in exasperation before stomping after you, muttering under his breath. He hadn’t wanted this at all; especially because this meant that he couldn’t keep any eye on you.

“Hey!” you’d been walking around for a bit when you finally heard the angry voice. Your shoulders stiffened when you realized that Miguel had found you. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of falling back to him, you kept walking with your head held high. But then you felt a harsh hand wrap your bicep and pull you back.

“What the f-”

“Finally,” oh. That voice definitely wasn’t Miguel. You slowly turned around and found yourself with…well, the bad guy. He looked at you with a wicked smile that caused goosebumps to well up all over your skin, “I’ve been looking for you, little Spider. Only I was hoping you’d be with that big, dumb guy.”

“Listen buddy,” you tried to pull out of his iron grasp to no avail, “I’m already having a shitty day and I don’t need you making it worse. The big dumb guy isn’t around, it’s just me unfortunately. And I recommend you let me go before I make you regret your decision.”

“You’re so funny,” he leaned closer so he was almost face to face with you. He smelled terrible and looked even worse; the worst realization of all was that he was a murderer…and you were alone with him, “you really think you could stop me all by yourself? So cute.”

He reached out and ran his hand along your jaw, instantly making you feel disgusting and gross. Your heart started beating rapidly and you willed yourself to regain your muster and strength. It should have been so easy to overpower him, but he was surprisingly strong. That was one of the worst things about dealing with other powered beings…someone always had the upper hand.

“Let me go,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t we make a deal?” he took your jaw harshly in his hand turned your face to his, “help me catch Miguel O’Hara and I’ll let you go.”

“Nope,” you might not have been in the Miguel fanclub at this point but you weren’t about to betray him or put anyone else at risk. You figured that the longer you were able to stall, it might give Miguel more time to get to you and take him. You’d never hear the end of it, but it was better than nothing, “sorry buddy.”

“Bitch!” he let go and pushed you back before striking you across the face, causing you to stumble and trip over your feet. You feel onto your backside with a groan before touching your stinging face, “it could have been so easy! We both want the same thing - to get rid of the Spider!”

“I don’t want to get rid of him,” you tried to scramble to your feet as he loomed over you but your hope was quickly starting to dissipate, “he-he’s fine! The only person I want to get rid of you is you!”

“Too bad,” he cackled before shrugging his shoulders, “I hate to break the news to you, but you’re not getting rid of me. I’ll be getting rid of you…and eventually that big idiot will come looking for you and then I’ll have him too. A two or one deal - can you imagine? What a dream!”

“Hate to break it to you,” your hands before getting scraped up as you tried to pull yourself out of his reach, “but he’s not going to come looking for me. He doesn’t care that much.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” you couldn’t hold back the scream that escaped your lips as he stepped on your ankle and crushed it under his boot, “you��re a pretty face, that’s enough for most men to come running. It’s almost a shame to kill you but-”

The next thing you heard was a sickening crack before the pressure on your ankle was gone. You opened your eyes and looked around the alley, only to find your would-be murderer on the ground and bleeding. A choked up sound escaped your lips as you looked up to find Miguel standing over you.

You prepared yourself for him to begin yelling but, to your immense surprise, it never came. Instead you watched dumbly as he bent down and scooped into your arms and stood back up with you clutched to his chest.

He studied you for a moment before tenderly wiping away the little bit of blood that had trickled down from the corner of your mouth. You had never realized that he could actually have such a gente touch.

For a few moments he walked in silence before letting a heavy sigh and shaking his head, “I don’t hate you. I never did.”

Your brow furrowed in surprise but you remained silent. Your head felt foggy and you weren’t sure you wanted to push anything just yet. All you wanted to do was go home and get some rest.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days had passed since the incident with Miguel and you felt well recovered, except for the faint bruising that remained on your face. Really, though, that was the least of your worries. Ever since then, you’d been trying your best to avoid Miguel, while continuing to be surprised that he hadn’t booted you from the team yet.

“Hey,” you froze at the sound of his voice and turned around to find Miguel standing at the edge of your cubicle space. You swallowed thickly before squeaking out a response that made you cringe internally, “can we talk?”

“Umm…yes?” you looked at him and waited for him to make the next move. He turned and motioned for you to follow him. It felt like some sort of walk of shame as you trailed after him like a puppy. He didn’t stop, ignoring the whispers and titters from the other Spider-People as he beelined for his office. You kept your gaze trained on your feet and almost ran into him when he suddenly stopped, “oof.”

“Sorry,” you’d never heard him apologize before. Odd. He closed the door behind and leaned against it, “listen, I think we need to clear some things up.”

“We do?”

“Mhmm,” this time he found it difficult to look in your eyes as you hopped up and sat at the edge of his desk, swinging your legs, “I just…I don’t want you to think that I hate you know or ever hated you. It’s never been like that.”

“Could have fooled me,” you shrugged slightly, already having made peace with his dislike of you.

“I know, I…fuck,” he ran a hand over his face in exasperation, “It was supposed to be easier this way.”

“What way?”

“If you hated me,” he finally managed to get out as you blinked at him owlishly, “then it would have made it easier for him to keep my distance.”

“But I don’t hate you,” you shook your head, “I don’t hate anyone…and I could never hate you.”

“Even now?” he chuckled harshly, “when you definitely should?”

“Even now,” you confirmed you heard his small exhale of relief, “now I just…I guess I’m just confused as to how you do feel about me.”

“When you left me and I couldn’t find you and then…when you’d been hurt…I thought…” he trailed off, clearly at a loss for words. You let his words sink in and tried to process the meaning behind him, “I didn’t know what I would do if anything had happened to you. All I could think about was beating that bastard to a bloody pulp.”

“Oh,” the gears were definitely turning as you came closer and closer to your conclusion. And then it hit you all at once and your entire face turned warm. You looked over at Miguel and could see that his cheeks were a darkened pink, “oh.”

“Umm…yeah,” he scratched at the back of his neck nervously before nodding slightly, “I just never know what to do or say. I-I’ve never been good with words. Keeping people at a distance makes things easier. If there’s no attachment then there’s no room or heartbreak.”

“I understand that,” you agreed softly, “but that’s no way to live.”

“I’m starting to see that,” he allowed himself to meet your eye and the two of you exchanged shy smiles, “so I guess I just wanted to say sorry.”

“Is that all you wanted to say?” you felt a little bolder now, nerves buzzing with everyone he had said and things that were left unspoken.

“No,” he agreed, “but it’s a good starting point, I think.”

“Yeah,” you nodded softly, “I think so too.”

“Cool,” he ran a hand through his hair nervously, “cool. Listen, I…want to do this right. So can I umm, do you want to-”

“Yes,” you slid off the desk and almost skipped over to him, “I’d love to.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara one shot #spider man 2099 #oscar isaac #spider-man

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wings-of-ink · 5 days

Text

Update!

Hey everyone, just wanted to check in with you. I hope you all doing well!

Right now, I am feeling good about getting chapter 3 out by 4/30. It's a crunch for sure, but barring any disasters in the work itself or my personal life, I feel like it is doable. My aim is to get it to a point where it is release-worthy but will still need fine tuning after the fact. I generally like to edit things a couple times at least and have it play-tested, but I won't have time for all that. But, this is a work in progress, and I can always make improvements as I go. There are also a couple segments that I did not have time to add, but they're not pivotal to the story. I will add them if I find the time before the 30th (sorry to those who wanted to make a tasty cake for someone).

So far, I have gone through chapters 1 and 2 again and made some corrections to typos and grammar. I added a white hair option with some flavor text, and some other flavor text for purple eyes. The option to have your MC's hair turn grey (streaked or fully grey) from stress/illness was added, but I did not do it in the way I needed to, so if I have time, I'm going to fix that before release. I also updated some of the variable values of certain choices. A name bank was added for anyone who might struggle to come up with a name for their MC. I made all but one of them correspond to the marks. There's a wild card in there for the adventurous, lol. The codex was also updated.

Today, I am editing chapter 3. My very gracious boss encouraged me to take the day off, and I'm feeling pretty good, so I'm using this as an opportunity to get some serious work done.

If you're curious and don't mind my rambling about my life, you can read about my ordeal below!

I am feeling much better. I had a couple rough days in the past week, but mostly brought on by medication my dentist wanted me to take to stave off possible infection in a broken tooth. I had a less-than-stellar reaction to it, and it gave me insomnia and anxiety. Simply fantastic.

But, I had the root canal yesterday (got lucky and they had a cancelation so I was able to go in 5 days early). I am happy to report it was not bad at all. In fact, it may have been the easiest dental procedure aside from cleanings that I've ever had, lol. I was in and out within half an hour, and the endodontist numbed the fuck out of my mouth. The biggest pain was the drive there and back since I live so far away.

I chilled the whole day and took a glorious 2 hour nap, and have been sore but totally good. I even watched one of my favorite comfort-animes, Natsume Yuujinchou. If you are ever feeling poorly and down in the dumps or just need to relax, it is cute, a bit funny, and lighthearted - so I highly recommend it. So, all in all, I feel recharged and more than ready to see chapter 3 with fresh eyes!

Thank you to everyone who sent me encouraging messaging about the root canal. It really truly helped me show up for that appointment without feeling completely vulnerable. I was still anxious, because that is just what my brain do - I can't even see my GP without my hands shaking, lol. But, going into it knowing what your experiences have been helped so much.

Anyway, sorry for prattling! I'm going to get back to it now! ^_^

#god cursed if #asks #twine if #if wip #twine wip #interactive novel #if game #interactive fiction #gc if character development #gc if update

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soleilnomoon · 2 years

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Heyy kaia!! I Hope you're feeling good and happy these days!!

Can I request NSFW headcanons for Law, Bartolomeo, and Shanks reacting to their female S/O shyly suggesting they use their Devil Fruit powers in bed? And like they never really thought of their powers THAT way so they're teasing them A LOT 😭

Thank you very much if you accept the request! And stay hydrated!! 💚

hi angel 😊 i am feeling ok today, i hope you're having a fantastic day 💛 love the idea of the s/o being shy when she asks; i took a bit of liberties with their powers bc, well, it's my world and everyone has to deal 😌 i had fun writing, so i hope you have a lot of fun reading 💙

2k words, fem reader, nsfw, 18+, mdni; it's relatively tame smut if i'm honest, but then again what i consider tame isn't really tame is it 😭feat. cute stuff like nipple play, a lil bit of blood, exhibitionism, there are ropes, maybe a lil knife play but not really (it's minimal i promise), oral (m receiving, f giving), fingering, other stuff i'm sure; all three of these men are menaces to society *locks them up* they're mean when they're aroused idk what else to say <3

he’s not quite sure if he heard you correctly, so he asks you to repeat it again; slowly. if you could die from embarrassment, you would in an instant, your words tumble out of your mouth clumsily as you ask him again. the way he’s looking at you, the intensity behind his gaze makes your hands shake — not out of fear, but excitement — so you quickly tuck them under your thighs as you sit on the edge of your bed.

law, being too damn observant for his own good, catches that; he also catches the way you can’t seem to look at him anymore and the way you keep bouncing your leg as if it’ll will away all your anxiety. eyelids lowering, amber eyes darkening at the prospect of your request, he sighs and leans against the wall opposite you.

“are you sure?”

your eyes widen but you nod and manage to squeak out a soft, “yes, of course.” your cheeks burn painfully, making you breathless and lightheaded, but you’ve finally said it — and out loud, at that. he thinks it’s cute that you’re so shy now when you weren’t this shy earlier, but he refrains from saying that. instead he pushes off of the wall and stalks over to you.

he supposes there’s no real harm in using his devil fruit this time; it’s not something he likes to use unless necessary, but law really can’t say no to you, not when you’re looking at him like he’s the only person you’d rather be around for the rest of your life. in order to combat the way his heart beats a little faster at that impossible thought, he summons a few items from his office and motions for you to lay on your back.

“w-what are you going to do?” you try to sound brave but when you see him take out his favorite scalpel, watch as it floats through the air, tears through the fabric of your dress with ease — shredding it to pieces, his long fingers twitching as he grabs some rope.

“before anything else, i’m a doctor first,” he says before tearing through your bra and panties, “and if i’m not mistaken, it’s been some time since your last check up, hasn’t it?” goosebumps prick your skin obnoxiously, making you shudder the moment his hand pushes your legs apart. eyes narrowed, law utters a single command, “speak.”

you don’t need to be told twice. “yes, you’re right.” because what else can you say? a devilish smile graces his lips and he quickly ties you to the bed — your wrists bound tightly above your head, legs spread and every time you move your ankle, the rope digs into your skin there. he thinks you look beautiful like this; naked, chest heaving, nipples hard, your cunt glistening with your arousal.

he runs a calloused hand along your soft thigh, your back arches off the bed at his touch, and try as you might, you can’t do a thing. you whimper unintentionally when he pinches your nipples to get your attention. you hate the way your pussy clenches and how you want him to touch you more.

“ah, ah,” he says in disapproval, clicking his tongue as he leans closer, using the flat end of his scalpel to tilt your chin up. “you don’t get to close your eyes for this examination.” while you might’ve thought that law using his devil fruit power would be to your advantage, but he’s completely reversed the situation; your naivety is your downfall, unfortunately. but, you know that whatever it is law has in store for you, will be exhilarating and otherworldly.

as someone who thrives off spontaneity, he’s not surprised that you’ve asked him about using his devil fruit powers in bed.

“about damn time,” he says casually, eyes full of mischief when he picks you up suddenly, in the middle of lunch, and places you on his shoulder. he’s much too tall for you to fight him at that height, and you don’t want to fall down, so you let him have his way and ignore the taunts and jokes your crew mates hurl at you. he flips them off with his free hand and strides to his cabin without saying another word.

the mortification you feel at him carrying you like that, so publicly, not caring who saw, is a double-edged sword. you’re both annoyed and aroused and you want to hate him for it but can’t. when he shuts the door behind him, you fuss loudly, voice shrill in his ear, but he only laughs in response. you tug on his ear with your fingers, and he finally lets you down.

“it’s really not a big deal.”

bartolomeo isn’t even close to feeling apologetic, nor does he understand why you’re all riled up, but he likes that side of you. he likes the way you shoot him heated looks that are laced with irritation, likes how even though you probably want to strangle him, you still press your body against his. he seeks out the warmth of your tongue, lips slanted against yours, teeth pricking your skin and drawing blood.

the pain is minimal, and you can’t help but feel a little weak in the knees when you feel his tongue lick away your blood. you should not like this, but you do — so much that you’re practically begging him to fuck you as you whimper against his lips, fingers grasping the front of his shirt tightly. he presses his erection against you — a reminder that he won’t be done with you anytime soon.

he gets the brilliant idea to create a barrier inside the room, running it along the walls — his theory is that it’ll be thick enough to muffle your moans and he can have his way without interruption. he’s determined enough, although you’re a little unsure even as he explains as he sets up. still, you can’t say that you’re not interested in seeing this through.

you just hope your crew mates won’t hear a thing, especially once you sink to your knees in front of him, eagerly unbuckling his pants and pulling his cock free. he watches you, eyes hazy and expectant, smirking when you take a tentative lick, tongue soft against the thick head of his cock, before you get comfortable and wrap your lips around him completely, slowly bobbing up and down.

“don’t tease, i want the real thing,” he says gruffly, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pushes his cock further inside your mouth, making you gag but you have no intention of losing to him — today. you watch him through your lashes, relaxing your jaw and throat as you take him deeper, enjoying the way his moans ripple along your skin, gliding down your back, prompting you to squeeze your thighs together as you ignore the ache that builds inside you. your hands grab onto his thighs for balance, tongue flat against the length of his hardened cock, as his hips jerk forward. if the way he’s cursing under his breath is any indication of his enjoyment, you’re well on your way to turning things around in your favor.

“wait, what?”

his lips twitch as he schools his features, attempting to keep an impassive face as he listens to you repeat yourself. there’s nothing shanks enjoys more than watching you squirm under his gaze — it’s frustrating, the power he holds over you without even trying. he’s impossibly handsome, even more so when he plays stupid, as if he didn’t hear what you said loud and clear.

another party at another rowdy pub — he can’t help himself; he enjoys living life without worry, and his crew mates are always down to entertain their captain’s whims. you’re in the same boat as them, except your boat’s a little more special. case in point — you’re sitting on his lap at a back table, quietly sipping your drink as you watch the other patrons drunkenly laugh and argue with one another. with your back pressed against his chest, you sigh softly and try not to act too bashful.

“if you don’t want to…,” you start, face flushed as you press your lips together and stifle whatever indecent noise that threatens to escape from your mouth; he presses his lips against your neck, mumbling go on, doll, finish your sentence. it’s not the alcohol, or the stifling air that floats around the pub that makes you feel warm — it’s him. granted, you’re the one who started it all off by not wearing panties under your skirt; a fact you so happily whispered into his ear before everyone started drinking.

naturally, he pulled you onto his lap, pressed his cock against your ass and told you it would be fun to fool around a bit. his definition of “fooling around” is stuffing your pussy with his cock, all the while keeping up friendly conversation with the others. every time someone bumped into the table or shouted for shanks’ attention, you rock your hips against his subtly, ass plush and soft, his large hand gripping your thigh so he can thrust into you a few times, making you spill your drink down the front of your blouse.

“oh, no,” he says, sadly, feigning concern; but you know better. you can feel just how smug he is when you clench your pussy, his dark chuckles tickling the back of your neck as you grip the wooden table before you.

“shanks,” you pinch his arm and he thrusts into you again; you nearly bite your tongue off trying to keep quiet, breathing erratic as your heart beats rapidly, choking you as the party rages on.

“now, on to your request,” his voice is deep and husky, making your pussy even wetter, especially when his thumb rubs circles on your inner thigh. “i thought you knew already?” when you don’t answer, because you’re trying your best not to moan too loudly, especially when yasopp glances over at you two suspiciously, eyes narrowing before he grins at shanks — the shame you’d normally feel doesn’t find you, and later you’ll blame the alcohol for that.

“know what?” you say, lip quivering, a shudder working its way through you when your breathing becomes a bit more labored.

“i don’t have a devil fruit power.” you blink at the confession, confusion taking hold of your face as you try to look at him.

“b-but, they said,” your eyes widen, and he laughs at your surprise; it’s adorable the way you willingly believe anything anyone in his crew says. “yasopp and —”

he dips his hand in between your thighs, fingers deftly stroking your clit. “lucky roux and yasopp are idiots,” he says gruffly, casting a sharp glance their way; they shrink back, laughing hysterically, and your face heats up all over again. they fooled you into thinking their captain had a devil fruit — they said his stamina was unmatched, that it was definitely the cause of a devil fruit but were too coy to say which one.

“but they’re not wrong about the stamina, doll. you know better than all of them how true that is.” he pinches your clit and you unintentionally yelp before clamping your hand down over your mouth. several people look over in your direction, shanks waves them off, telling them that you thought you saw a bug, but that everything’s all good.

“right?” he goads, rubbing your clit mercilessly, making your cunt squeeze down harder, and while you know that all of this is wrong, you nod, slowly buck your hips against him, hoping to chase the orgasm that’s dangling right in front of you. “now, be a good girl,” he drawls, “i want to feel your pretty pussy cum all over me.”

it’s not an impossible request, since you’re almost there, but you hate that you nearly tip over the edge at his words, and while you should probably be much more subtle, you end up bouncing on his lap in the end, much to his amusement and pleasure, his groans soft and tantalizing against your ear. and when he pinches your clit roughly, you clench your teeth tightly, try to breathe through your nose, and almost give yourself away again as you start panting. your orgasm causes sweat to trickle down your brow, makes your limbs weak as he holds you close and thrusts into you again. “see,” he places a kiss on your jaw, “that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” if you had the strength, you slap him for his audacious behavior.

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komorebi-rabbit · 9 days

Note

Hey you!

I just came from your Sasori Roleplay account. I wasn't sure if you were active there anymore, so I hopped on over here via your pinned post.

You seem like a talented and fun person to roleplay with, so I thought why not ask?

I've read your rules and some of the older blogs and they really resonated with me.

I used to roleplay Itachi on Amino like you used to play/still play(?) Sasori on here. Those in depth roleplays that just make my heart sing. And also the RPs that are a pain to find because...well...novella takes work. And building a bond with a character who isn't naturally friendly takes even more time.

Still those have got to be the most fun times I can remember from my teens. And I misss them...

It was quite challenging to find people who share similar views on roleplaying and like the same fandom. So I must have given up sometime back. And when I read your blog today, I was instantly like "Oh my god this is exactly what I was looking for" (except like 6 years passed since I last attempted that xD)

So I wanted to pop in and say "Hi, I love your blog already!" but that didn't quite suffice so here we are xD.

It's kinda funny because after all this time not roleplaying, I found myself on tumblr, figured why not make a Sasori RP account (there are many others for the Naruto characters) to have some fun and be nostalgic? But...there was still a little 'eh' that was missing. And I found it in your blog.

I adore it, when people just get their characters and portray them correctly. And I've been aching to find more people like this. I remember it being quite the challenge in the past, back in my Itachi days, so it was like a gift to find your account!

Anyways, I am trailing off-

I'd love to RP with you sometime. Or...to just chat and reminisce about days past, even if I just discovered you today. I just know I would have loved to have you in my Akatsuki geoup back in 2015.

I hope you have a lovely day!

This is the SWEETEST message, oh my lord, thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this made me and how much I needed this little spark of positivity in my life right now!

I unfortunately no longer RP on tumblr due to some incidents that have made me wary over the years. I also no longer RP Sasori, but I do still RP in the Naruto fandom, just on Discord with friends that I am comfortable with. Novella does take work! But man, if it isn't worth the effort! I'm so glad people are still RPing and taking up Sasori. He absolutely deserves that love! Unfortunately, I did most of my tumblr RP back when the manga was still ongoing and tumblr was at its peak so there was a LOT more interaction then than I see these days. I wish it could go back to being that way! I miss a lot of the friends I made back then! (But also I'm still friends with some of them 10 years later, it's fantastic. You really form some lasting bonds). Even back then, however, there were only ever a couple of Sasori accounts (like... maybe 3, not including myself? And most were not active).

I'm mostly a Shisui RPer these days, though I do write for Kakashi, Tobirama, Kisame, and Izuna, too! Like I said, though, I only RP with those I'm super comfortable with, but if you want, I have plenty of recs for you! I'm also KomorebiRabbit on AO3 and @komorebirabbitwrites. My Sasori is actually heavily based on characterization from @renaerys and her works from back then (such as Zero Hour) and she is still writing FANTASTIC Sasori works to this day. I mean absolutely unbelievable, haunting, you will never get it out of your head type fics. Her characterization is unparalleled and also she's just an awesome person in general! I also mod @sasoriweek which will happen again in November of this year!

Also, if you like dark, horror-heavy Sasori, Athelise on AO3 is absolutely amazing! She writes such an interesting Sasori and some phenomenal smut, I definitely recommend her!

#Forever fave #I hope you dont mind me posting this ask #I wanted to save it cause it really is so so sweet of you to send this #sasori-anon #ask

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bunny584 · 3 months

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Look, listen, love, look at me my sunny honey bunny

I don't know fuck all about JJK, legit like exceptionally basic concept ideas. I can't read the manga or watch the show because I'm a little emotional crybaby and wouldn't be able to handle it (from what I DO know)

I'm a 3rd person POV writer (99% of my work exists in my poor Google docs drive as tragic WIPs that may or may not ever see the light of day)

I haven't written 2nd PP(ehe)OV once in my life

You make me want to write 2nd PP(even funnier the second time around)OV jjk fanfic because what the fuck, your writing is stellar fuck I wish we were friends you're a fantastic author I am OBSESSED with your jjk stuff (yes the obsessed series too, I've swallowed it all whole, just like reader can swallow–)

'Kay that's all thanks for coming to my TEDTalk I adore you and will continue to absolutely inhale your work mwah *chef kiss* kisses~ ❤️

(P.S. I wrote fucking *french kiss* right before sending this and I can't decide if I'm blessed or cursed with this innate fuck up ability of mine that literally refuses to go away. My brain instantly goes "french kiss" instead of chef kiss and it has caught myself and my friends off guard multiple times, I apologize for nearly subjecting you to that as well)

I—

So…all I got from this is that we should French kiss? Like…now?

Should I schedule the wedding for today? Or tomorrow? No really whatever is convenient for you because you have single handedly pulled my heart clear out of my chest and now it’s yours to keep. It’s yours. Those are the rules.

Are you literally kidding me? I wish I could eat this comment for breakfast/lunch/dinner.

You know every author is just a thinly veiled praise kink manic pixie dream sleep deprived slutty little minx and I just…🥹

You’ve killed me. I’m finished. There’s nothing left. Thank you is inadequate.

So now I’m in love with you. I hope you’re happy with what you’ve done!!!!!!

*s(creaming) into the void*

*also we should definitely French kiss because I can match your google doc chaos. I write everything in my notes on my iPhone because carpal tunnel means nothing to me.*

#I literally cannot breathe #help #jjk fanfic #jjk smut

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prettylightsbigcity · 2 years

Text

The Therapeutic Influence of Goats

Had to pull myself out of my writing slump because one of my favorite humans on the planet has a BIRTHDAY TODAY!!! @foolofabookwyrm-activated does so much for this fandom and community, and we are beyond lucky to have her. Liz, I love you and I hope you had an absolutely fantastic day today <3 This silly little thing is for you; hope it makes you smile.

Read the full ficlet below, or over on ao3, if you prefer!

***

Baz

I knock on the ancient wooden door three times, rapidly. Old, cracking paint chips off beneath my knuckles and flutters through the air, a flake landing on the toe of my leather boot. I sigh. After a somewhat long wait, Agatha Wellbelove yanks open the door. Her blonde hair is piled on top of her head in a messy knot, and she’s wearing a lumpy sweater several sizes too big for her. Her feet are bare.

“Baz,” she says in greeting, not sounding surprised to see me.

“Wellbelove,” I reply.

“Who’s it?” a voice calls from somewhere inside the cavernous barn.

Brody.

“It’s just Baz, he’s here for Simon,” Wellbelove yells over her shoulder.

“So he’s here?”

I can’t keep the relief out of my voice. Even though it’s been months, even though things are much better and improving all the time, I can’t help but worry when Simon disappears on me like this. Wellbelove nods and jerks her chin towards the hill behind me.

“He’s up there. Said he’d come by for tea later,” she explains, softening a little, “you’re welcome to join us, of course.”

“Thanks,” I say, offering her a small smile.

Agatha is already closing the door as I turn and head towards the knoll. I resign myself to a long trek; the back pastures are enormous, and there are no fences to stop the goats from wandering as far as they please. Fortunately for me, I find the herd just beyond the first rise. The goats are scattered about in a loose group, grazing happily on the clumps of buttercups and clover. I spot Simon under a beech tree, spread out on his back with his head resting against a rather plump goat. A tiny little baby one, no larger than a house cat, is sprawled across his legs, fast asleep. Simon sees me a moment after I see him and raises one hand. I walk over to him, careful to give the feeding goats a wide berth. They don’t like me; they’re smart that way.

“I can go if you’d rather be alone,” I offer as I draw closer.

Simon shakes his head.

“Just needed some air,” he says, sitting up slowly so as to not disturb the kid in his lap. He cups his hand over his eyes and squints, looking up at me.

The older goat, presumably the mother, stands up and shakes herself, giving me a distrustful look. I sit down extremely cautiously and hold my hands up to her. She looks at Simon, then back at me, and trots off to graze a short distance away, keeping a watchful eye on us. I suppose she trusts Snow more than she fears me. The grass here is soft, and the wind rustles quietly through the branches above us. Simon lowers his hand and lets it fall in my lap. I hold it. We’re both quiet for a long while. Eventually, Simon takes a massive breath and lets it out slowly.

“Bad day,” he admits.

I can see him struggling to decide what he wants to say; his eyebrows quirk and draw together. I wait, rubbing my thumb against the back of his hand in little circles.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you,” he starts, “I told my gran where I was going. Figured you would call her if you were worried.”

I nod.

“I would have, if I was. But I thought you would be here.”

Simon smiles crookedly.

“Guess you’re always right.”

“Hardly. I just know my favorite person, and I know where he likes to go to clear his head.”

I lift Simon’s hand to my lips and kiss his knuckles, enjoying his resulting blush.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

Simon shakes his head.

“No– well, not right now. I just wanna… sit. If that’s alright.”

“Of course, love.”

Simon’s expression shifts, and he peeks up at me from under his unruly fringe. He really needs a haircut.

“Wanna hold him?” he asks, taking his hand back to scratch the little goat’s head.

“I…” I pause, not wanting to turn him down, but I know this impossibly small creature doesn’t want to be held by me.

“I don’t think his mother would approve,” I tell Simon.

He looks over at the mother goat in question and shrugs.

“She trusts me, it’ll be fine,” he says, already lifting the baby out of his lap.

“Simon–”

It’s too late, he’s putting the tiny goat top of my crossed knees, settling him in and getting coarse white hairs all over my navy trousers. I hold my hands in the air, afraid to move. Simon grins. I look up and make direct eye contact with the mother goat. She doesn’t blink. I look back to Simon, blue eyes lit up by the late afternoon sun. He looks delighted. I’m afraid to breathe.

“Here, he likes to be held like this,” Simon explains, taking one of my hands in each of his and positioning them around the creature.

“I’m too cold, he won’t like it,” I hiss.

“He’ll warm you up,” Simon says patiently, like I’m the one being ridiculous right now.

I have one hand cradling the goat’s chin and the other resting against his back. Snow was right; he is warm. Simon sits back, scooting over so he can lean against the trunk of the tree and spread his legs out. He’s still smiling.

“I’m a predator, Snow,” I complain, “you’re teaching this baby terrible survival skills.”

Simon has the audacity to laugh at me.

“These are Watford goats, Baz. You’d never hurt them.”

He’s right, but that doesn’t make this whole situation any less absurd.

“Just relax, babe,” Simon continues, “and try not to think for a bit.”

I snort, but I do try. Tentatively and gently, I let my fingers run over the baby’s back, again and again. He huffs in his sleep, an impossibly charming sound. The mother goat goes back to grazing. I take a few deep breaths. I listen to the wind.

“There you go,” Simon says quietly.

I open my eyes; I hadn’t realized I had closed them. Simon is looking at me so gently, like he loves me.

He does, I remind myself, still.

“What’s his name?” I ask.

“Ebb,” Simon says.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, to not break whatever this moment is. We sit on the hill, Simon, Ebb, and I, until the shadows start to grow long and the light turns orange. I sigh. Simon nods.

“Let’s go bother Aggie for some tea and biscuits,” he says, standing up and stretching his arms over his head.

I look down at the goat, and his eyes are open, looking back at me.

“Time to go, little puff,” I tell him, and impossibly, he seems to understand.

He yawns, squeaks, then hops off my lap and skips over to his mother, who is already turning to follow the rest of the herd down the hill.

Simon reaches out a hand to help me up. I take it.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY LIZ #foolofabookwyrm-activated #my fic #ficlet #fluff #and goats #kiiind of goatober but not really?#I love Liz and that's all #snowbaz

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mossywriting · 2 years

Text

Someone walked past me carrying a delicious smelling pizza today so here's a Kalluzeb pizza AU I guess

Kallus is a corporate man whose whole life revolves around his job. He doesn't have a lot of time to cook, nor does he really want to. After working himself to the bone on a project he falls sick and has to stay home for a few days, and as he's used to eating out for most of his meals he doesn't have a lot of things at home to cook for himself.

He tries to find a restaurant online from where he can order breakfast, but the only place he can find that delivers anything before noon is a local pizzeria, and well... Kallus is hungry. So pizza it is.

It doesn't take long before there's a knock on his front door, and Kallus is surprised to find it's not the usual bored, dead-eyed teenager carrying his pizza, but a tall man his own age. A man tall enough to look down on him, and who is wearing a dreadful jacket covered in tacky pizza-emojis, whose sleeves were just a bit too short to hide the tattoos covering his arms.

If Kallus' throat hadn't been dry from coughing so much he would have swallowed.

"Hey, I'm from the Bahryn Pizza. I got you your special with..." The tall, handsome man looks at the note in his hand. "Extra pineapple, extra garlic, and... anchovies?" As he is reading the note, his voice turns it into a question and he looks at Kallus as if he's expecting him to question all of his life choices.

Kallus doesn't blame him. That all sounds horrendous. He groans. "No- I, I mean, yes..." He drags a hand down his face. "I did order extra garlic, but the text on your website kept... changing places so I suppose it turned my tomatoes into anchovies." He coughs and turns away, hiding his face in his elbow.

"Shit, sorry," Kallus hears the delivery man say. "Thought they'd fixed that bug."

Kallus snorts. "Would have been nice." He holds out his hand toward the pizza. "But I'm starving so I'll eat whatever right now, even... that."

The delivery man scratches behind his head. "You sure?"

"I've had worse. I think."

"Okay... But I won't charge you for it. We messed up, so, it's on us."

Kallus blinks. "Thanks. That's... nice of you."

"No problem. Looks like you have other stuff to deal with than having to pay for this."

Great. Do I look that bad?

"Just a cold, this'll help me get through it." Kallus takes the pizza with a wry smile.

The delivery man laughs. "Alright, good luck with that." He begins to turn away but then seems to think better off it. He stops and turns back, pulling out a folded flyer from his back pocket. "Our phone number is right here. Next time you want something you can give us a call. Ask for Zeb and I'll make sure to get your order right."

As Kallus accepts the flyer, their fingers touch. A small spark moves through his body.

"And you'll deliver it too?" Kallus asks, and a little too late he notices how his smile has turned a little too friendly for the occasion.

It's Zeb's turn to blink. Then a wide smile graces his face. "Depends. Will I get a good tip?"

"Depends. Will the pizza be edible?" Kallus can feel himself losing himself in the conversation as well as the man's contagious smile.

"I'll see to it personally."

"Well, here's to hoping I'll make it through this one so you can make me a better one someday." Kallus fights the urge to sneeze. He will not sneeze in front of this man.

"Looking forward to it..." Zeb looks down at the delivery note before looking up again. "Kallus."

"It's Alexandr, actually." The words slip out of his mouth even before he can consciously decide whether they are a bad idea or not.

"Alright, Alexandr." Judging from the way Zeb says his name it had been a fantastic idea. "Try to enjoy our pizza and give me- us a call when you want another one."

"I will." And with a small wave and too big a smile, he closes the door on Zeb. The warmth on his face has nothing to do with the fever.

Kallus calls for another pizza the moment his fever is gone.

#kalluzeb #kalluzeb drabble #mossy writes #star wars rebels #alexandr kallus #garazeb orrelios

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sen-no-kotowari · 4 months

Text

PGR Ayla Activation Day 2023 Mail

Hope everyone had a fantastic holiday! I will be posting quite a few stuff over the next few days with so much stuff piled up while on holiday rest and first off would be Ayla's and Rosetta's Activation Day mail!

You can read more about her activation day memoir on the cut down below! (*‘ω‘ *)

[Push Notification] Art Exhibit Interview

◜Lateral Arc◝ Art Exhibit Interview | Ayla ― ”Pursuing the colorful world reflected in our eyes” Article publication date: December 15 | Interviewed by the Garden Ventures | Today is the start of the up-and-coming artist Ayla’s exhibit “◜Lateral Arc◝,” held at Exhibit Building C-06! The exhibit delivers a prismatic visual symposium that transcends time and space, expressing the sentiments and encounters of the people in the current Era. Regardless of the massive response on the first day, it has beaten the venue’s previous record of the most number of visitors. Several pieces displayed have a ◜Lateral Arc◝ with the joint operations between the Arts Association and the Elite Corps. Our team of journalists had the honor to interview Miss Ayla. Q: Could you please tell us why you chose such a theme for the exhibit this time around? A: Although “art” is but a tiny existence in our time today, that is exactly what makes up the driving force we deeply contemplate when it comes to “art.” For instance, I see the blue skies in front of me as the most vivid and biggest canvas there could ever be. But the canvas’ color reflected in other people’s eyes is different, right? What I want to draw are the different forms of this world reflected from their view. I believe it’s good that people have their own interpretation of what “reality” is. Q: All the artwork displayed here is impressive. I know it’s possible to know the production process by “recreating the scene” via the device located beside each of the art pieces here, but why display it in that manner? A: I was inspired by a previous mission I participated in on Earth. As for the devices installed… It’s my way of thanking the person who took care of me during the production of these pieces. They gave me the inspiration for this and have always been supportive of me. They probably aren’t aware of it, but it’s because they’ve always been fighting for the sake of humanity’s future… I wanted the world reflected in those people’s eyes to continue to exist. Their existence always gives us strength in one way or another. Q: In regards to the last, blank artwork displayed called “Masterpiece,” you mentioned that someone once said that “it’s because the next piece is yet to be completed that it’s the perfect masterpiece.” What do you make about this interpretation of it? A: Ahaha! That’s a really interesting interpretation of it. I love it! But all the pieces displayed in the art exhibit are pieces I’m proud of. …Ah! I just thought of what could my next piece be! Oh dear, I’m so excited that I wanna draw it so badly right now! Q: It’s truly a “surge of inspiration!” Then, could you please tell us about what your next piece is? Not just me, but Miss Ayla’s fans are also looking forward to what your “masterpiece” would be… Even just a tiny spoiler, please! A: Hehe, I’d like to keep it a secret for now. Talking about the details of my work takes up a lot of courage, you know? From: Writer | Montpellier

From Ayla

Hi there, Commander~! It’s been so long, did you perhaps miss me? I got your cake and activation day present, thank you so much! Golly gee, why do you always know the things that make me happy? My art exhibition starts today. For me, today is a really important day. Because there is a day like this I was able to let the whole world see a new perspective and outlook in life, I was able to experience the cruel reality beyond those shelters. Since you’re such a busy person, I was able to ask the Arts Association to display the art pieces for an additional day after the last day of the exhibit for you. I’ll be your specialized guide that day and give you a tour around the venue! And also, I prepared a surprise for you so look forward to that, okay? It was pretty difficult to express all of the battles everyone’s fighting in a piece of artwork, but… Thanks to you and everyone, I was able to grasp the monuments of this war we’re fighting, I was able to pick up and weave fragments of the stars and show its glow to a greater crowd of people. Hehe, was our conversation seriously heavy? Pretty sure that my mood hasn’t switched off from “exhibit mode,” that’s why. Oh yeah, I have a wish I want you to grant, but… I want to draw your portrait! They say that it’s okay to make a wish on one’s activation day, right? So I want you to be my model! I know you’re thinking that I’m already drawing you as we’re speaking, but I still wanna draw you even after I already drew plenty of times now. …It’s only when I draw that I can have your gaze all to myself, see? Or something along those lines, hehe. Saying it made me feel a bit shy about it. Anyway, come to my atelier when you got the time! I don’t mind if it’s late, I’ll be waiting for you. From: Ayla’s Mail

#pgr #pgr ayla #punishing gray raven

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punkeccentricenigma · 6 months

Note

HI!!! No requests today, I just want you to know how wonderful you are! Your writing and descriptions are perfect and always completely in character! I don’t know if anyone has told you this recently, but everything of yours that I read always just makes me incredibly happy!! I hope you have a fantastic day

I don't even know how to react; I really appreciate it. For the past week, I've been experiencing a barrage of intrusive thoughts and behaviors (I suspect I have OCD, but I'd prefer it not to be that illness) that make it difficult for me to function normally, and words like yours truly help me. I'm not a good person at all; I've made a lot of mistakes that I'm very, very, incredibly ashamed of right now; I wish I could go back in time, not make those mistakes and apologize to everyone or forget it all, but here I am.

And honestly, I don't know why people like my writing so much. I consider it too simple and careless, but I'm glad you still enjoy it.

btw. Fun fact! I was supposed to quit writing years ago, but during one of the exams, I had to write a story, and I wrote about Mystic Messenger. I regret nothing.

Generally, I'd like to give all the goodness in the world to my readers, especially to people who write such kind things to their favorite writers. You guys are the best!

And I hope you are having a fantastic day, anon!

Thank you very much again.

#ask

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tackytigerfic · 2 years

Note

tacky i think you're an absolute treasure in the community. i obviously don't know you personally but i absolutely adore the gem of a human being you are and i hope you always always get the best of what life has to offer. you're so sweet and understanding, and despite not being in the right headspace at times, you're still always willing to help out in any way you can and i think the world of you. and i completely agree with @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm in the way that i believe you deserve great things. i'm scared to approach you directly because i think i might underwhelm or bore you but i just couldn't keep in how much your kindness and wonderfulness have overwhelmed me. every interaction i've had with you (as small as it was) made my day and i want to thank you so much for being so lovely. your writing is fantastic and i don't have enough praises to sing for Modern Love but right now i believe i should direct my admiration to you and only you. i hope reading this made your day a little better, and i think it's high time we return the favour you do us by simply existing and making our lives better. if the world was an oyster, you would definitely be a pearl- no question about that. i know i am teetering on the precipice of sounding very creepy but i love you as a human bean (i swear i'm not a creep) and i hope everyone acknowledges what a beautiful person we all have amidst us in this fandom. i'm pretty sure you're the kind of person, when you walk into a room, you light it up.

i just wanted to say, you're super talented and your new story is coming along amazingly, so just trust the process and i know it's going to be nothing short of a masterpiece (just like all your other works)!

hope you have the best day, week, month, year and life ever! <3

Debated replying to this as it's actually so lovely that i wanted to keep it cradled to my heart forever and just reread it whenever i needed a cheer-up, but as it's anon i would never be able to say thank you properly if i didn't post. Also I just wanted to say, i love to chat to people and would always welcome you dropping in to say hello! Though in fact I am myself extremely dull - i do very little other than moan about how tired i am and talk about my dog (she is the Best Dog though, to be fair). I am absolutely rubbish at replying to messages though (partly because my discord is playing up constantly) but am genuinely grateful for every positive interaction i have on here, and very joyful at all the brilliant friends i've made, either via DMs or in discord servers or just on here in tags and reblogs.

And finally Anon, you say all these nice things about me (which i will treasure) but you yourself are obviously a very generous person and i'm sure a treasured friend to those you love. thank you for your kindness today, you have given me a real boost and i appreciate it so much.

#lovely people being lovely #asked and answered #it's been easy for me to be happy in fandom #i've had such a nice time getting to know people #and most of my fandom interactions have been positive ones #it's just my good luck that i'm surrounded by good people tbh #thank my lucky stars i found this corner of the internet

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tentative-wanderer · 2 years

Note

Hi again..... I'm glad you're feeling better now than before...... I'm doing so-so (sorry for the weird answer)......

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime, books, movies or tv series)? Thanks....

Thank you! My past few months have been hopeful. I hope each day will be better and better for you!

I don’t have a top 10, but I can do top 7/8, arranged in no particular order. I know I’ll sound like a broken record talking about them, but they’re all danmei characters because that’s the kind of fiction I enjoy nowadays. Some English titles are my translations and may differ from what fan translators call them, if fan translations of the books exist.

🚮🌶 Chi Xiaochi from “Don’t Pick Up Boyfriends from the Trash Bin” and Wei Wuxian from MDZS

Chi Xiaochi is an actor who carries out missions across various universes in exchange for a wish that will allow him to regain his life after a freak accident. Wei Wuxian, as most know, is a donkey-riding resurrected necromancer who solves mysteries.

They’re my favourite type of protagonist. Right from the start, they wow readers with jaw-dropping statements that infuriate other characters. I love their charisma, their humour, and the way they don’t always toe the line. They have the classic protagonist hallmarks: kind hearts, impressive intelligence/skills, and complex pasts that gradually unfurl as we read, but those things aren’t special on their own; it’s the authors’ prowess that makes them shine through creativity and the weaving of human problems through fantastical events.

An aside: Chi Xiaochi had/has a dog and is terrified of ghosts, while Wei Wuxian had/has ghosts and is terrified of dogs. These traits are important in their respective stories.

🐾 Bai Chunian from “Merman’s Fall” 《人鱼陷落》

Bai Chunian is a white lion alpha not-so-secret agent who works for the IOA, the International Omega Alliance. (If only there were a similarly influential International Women’s Alliance in our world.)

I like contrasts, and Bai Chunian has plenty. He’s rough yet gentle, immensely strong yet vulnerable, a leader and strategist who needs a guiding light in his life. He’s a bad-boy kind of tease, but he always ends up being the one who gets teased when he tries it on Lan Bo, his partner. (Lan Bo doesn’t even mean to tease. He’s just giving Bai Chunian replies from the heart; those replies just happen to be bawdy to the max.)

There’s something about the way Bai Chunian acts when he’s sad that triggers the urge to protect. You just want to give him all the nice things in the world.

🏋️‍♂️ Shen Qiuji from “Today I Am Forcefully Resurrected Again” 《今天我又被迫复活》

The love interest of a constantly haunted protagonist. By the standards of common danmei love interests/tops, he’s on the “useless” end of the spectrum, and by that I mean his protective capabilities are low because his ghost-busting skills are mediocre. Contrast him with, say, Hua Cheng from TGCF or Luo Binghe from SVSSS. Despite that, Shen Qiuji gives off a very strong sense of safety and reliability by dint of being a masculine fitness buff who chooses to be persistently there for the protagonist, Gu Rong. His presence is like an anchor.

Shen Qiuji may look stony-faced and somewhat intimidating, but he’s very affectionate with Gu Rong; he likes to cuddle and touch and—in the past, before he and Gu Rong went from being enemies to lovers—annoy. It’s captivating. I think having someone who makes their existence tangibly felt and who wants to share your burden is a wonderful thing.

Plus, like many characters in the book, Shen Qiuji is hilarious.

✨ Xiao Xingchen from MDZS

Blind smiley daozhang (Daoist priest, used very loosely in this instance).

Who wouldn’t want a friend like him? He strikes that sweet spot between poised and approachable. A kind person with an amiable attitude and an undercurrent of courage to do what other people don’t dare or care to do. Also, it’s super cute that he laughs easily and uncontrollably (I suppose this trait would have been more obvious when he had eyes). He sounds like a huge pleasure to be around.

Oh, and he has the prettiest name I’ve ever seen: “dawn stardust”, sounding like “little stars”. Additionally, it sounds like “the dawn star sinks”, echoing a line from an old poem and, in hindsight, foreshadowing his fate. I like wordplays!

Giving a supporting character like this a tragic ending makes him even more attractive to (sadistic) readers because it makes us mourn how good and beautiful things don’t last, sometimes.

🐀 Shen Jiu/Shen Qingqiu from SVSSS

Misunderstood villain in the book title. High-ranking scholarly lord in the No. 1 martial arts sect. Fierce battered batterer.

Another tragedy king, in a totally different flavour. I love contrasts in characters, so I love how hardened Shen Jiu is, how deliberately rough and tough he acted as he grew up, and yet he has this soft spot, this vulnerability pertaining to one person who (accidentally) helps shape his demise.

Speaking of his relationship with Yue Qi, there’s beauty in what-could-have-beens, in feelings burned and blackened before they could properly begin. There’s beauty in things only half said—no I’m not talking about Yue Qi’s tight-lipped idiocy, I’m talking about something that’s almost love but not completely there yet because no one’s said it out loud; only metaphors whisper it. I like metaphors and implications.

🌸🏡 Shi Mei and Hua Binan from 2ha (indirect but major spoilers below)

Guy who wants to go home. At almost any cost. (Lol, sounds like me when I was a kid.)

Yet another tragedy king, and this time it’s one who’s physically very lovely. (At this point, I can safely summarise my favourite supporting characters as “beautiful tragedies”.) I’m semi-blending Shi Mei and Hua Binan from both timelines into one person in my speech because I like both versions of the man whom child Hua Binan grew up to be. Same seed, same tree, just moulded to grow in slowly diverging directions.

I like characters who are stuck between a rock and a hard place; it doesn’t matter whether they’re protagonists or antagonists. And ethical dilemmas aside, I admire the way Hua Binan dreams big (and crazy), puts it into action, and succeeds. My reactions were both “wth, they actually did…that” and “what a relief, they made it”.

I like male characters who come across as tastefully demure and exquisite, their unfortunate rarity making them all the more precious. The demure part may have been acting in this case, but elegance is indisputably required to make it work. What’s more, this guy can pull off both styles: beautiful and handsome. He’d be a delight to look at. (Sidetracking: speaking of “delight to look at”, I dig Mo Ran’s strapping farmhand look too.)

The books above are listed in my danmei book recommendations: https://tentative-wanderer.tumblr.com/post/624449567085248512/danmei-book-recommendations

#mdzs #dpubftb #dpubfttb #qijiu #svsss #2ha #人鱼陷落 #the falling merman #merman’s fall #今天我又被迫复活 #魔道祖师 #不要在垃圾桶里捡男朋友 #danmei #asks

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musicainextenso · 2 years

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I never wanted to make an epic finale... If I want to be very honest with you, I never thought that Musica in Extenso and this blogging experience will get its final moments. But as I said earlier... everything comes to an end... eventually. Why I’m saying this? Because that’s true. After all these years, after all these experiences in my personal life, in my career... now I know, that there is always an ending. Not always in an epic way and it’s not always about a happy ending... but as they say, an ending is maybe a new beginning and I really believe in this one.

Today on Musica in Extenso (wow... maybe this is the very last time I’m writing this) we will not have some dramatic music or something sad, nostalgic. No, today I want to celebrate the end of an era. Yes... the end of an era, because here, on Tumblr I had something constant, a permanent schedule: for 11 beautiful years I had a nice place where I posted music, I shared my thoughts, my happiness, my musical preferences. I was growing up here... when I registered my account I was a student. Well now I’m a grownup man. Seriously... 11 years. I can't believe this.

I had a wonderful community here with amazing people, friends from all over the world and that is truly awesome, right? I mean, that's how I met our only and one Artistic Director, Melinda Beasi. That’s how I met the wonderful Juan M. Orozco. That’s how I met the fantastic Nick Olinger. I mean... seriously... without them, this blog would be so boring (boring as hell). I’m so grateful for their contribution and I’m a very lucky person to have such nice friends. We never met in real life, but I hope that one day we will have the chance to sit down, drink a coffee and to have a nice chit-chat, about music, about art, about us.

That’s our short story! If you want the longer version... well, you will have to read all our posts. All of the posts will be saved here and you will find anything you want (for example: musicainextenso.com/tagged/femalecomposers).

I hope you will enjoy reading and listening. I hope you will find some happiness when you will visit this blog in the future. As is said, today on Musica in Extenso: the sparkling music of Gioachino Rossini with the finale of The Barber of Seville. Why? Because it is simply amazing... as my people, here at Musica in Extenso.

Thank you for everything! Thank you for being here with us, thank you for every like and reblog! Thank you for reading and following us through all of these years!

All the best! ❤️ - Editor-in-Chief

____________________

Join us this week for the farewell event! Stay tuned!

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annisthree · 1 year

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Chapter XI: We stand together

previous chapter // series masterlist

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~7k

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, alcohol use

Chapter summary: Back at the base, Marla is recovering after being held prisoner, and a new chapter in the Rebellion's history is about to begin.

A/N: This is it. I can't believe it.

If you had told me half a year ago that I would be back to writing after more than ten years, I would have never believed it. It's been such a fantastic journey, and I'm so happy to be doing this again.

Once again, thank you all for the amazing, AMAZING support. I was honestly surprised that anyone even read it, but seeing the continuous outpour of kind words was insane. I mean it.

Now, for the future: there's definitely another part coming, but I need a bit of a break to figure out the details. And maybe write a short drabble or two before I jump into something longer again. I'm guessing I should be back with the second part sometime in January, but it's hard to say.

Again: I LOVE YOU all. Writing this has brought me so much joy; it's surreal.

(Oh, and remember when I said that the last chapter was the longest one? Well, seems like I lied.)

Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

'Captain Andor. Your presence has been urgently requested in the med bay.'

Cassian rubbed his eyes , looking at the medical droid that had woken him up in the middle of the night. The intensity of the last mission was still weighing on him, and he was hoping to finally get some sleep in his warm, comfortable bed on the base.

Clearly, today was not the day.

'Why?' he practically moaned, deciding he didn't have to uphold his highest professional standards for a medical droid. To accentuate this decision, he let out a long, dramatic yawn.

'It's Lieutenant Reid. She's-'

Cassian felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on his head. Of course it's about Marla, idiot. Why else would you be needed in the med bay? And if they're requesting your presence, does that mean that something is-

'Is she all right?'

'Oh, she is all right. Visibly regaining her strength. The problem isn't her well-being; it's the well-being of our medical personnel. Sir.'

Cassian was amazed at how quickly he was circulating through different emotions, 'Could you... could you elaborate?'

'You might be aware of the doctor's recommendation to have her receive IV therapy to aid the loss of electrolytes stemming from dehydration. Well, it wasn't a problem when she was under anaesthesia, but as soon as she woke up, she began... protesting . Quite emphatically. She is currently refusing to be subjected to further treatment, and her refusal is manifested in a rather forceful way. I was sent to find a mediator.'

The droid has finished the report and tilted its mechanical head to the left, awaiting further orders. Only now did Cassian realise that the droid was in somewhat worse shape than it was standard. Sure, most of their droids had some sort of issues, most were patched up with different scratch parts, but this one looked... beaten up. For starters, one of its arms was detached and held in the droid's only remaining hand. There also seemed to be a noticeable dent in its core area.

Cassian rolled his eyes, returning to his default state of tiredness.

'Why me?'

'I have already spoken with the rest of your crew, captain, but they all said you are the only person capable of negotiating with the lieutenant. Sir.'

Somehow, he really doubted that. Still, he was her superior (a fact he should probably remember more often, he noted), so he was responsible for keeping her in check. Or at least attempting to do so.

'Great. Lead the way.'

The droid emitted a series of beeps, then whirled around in place and began energetically stomping forward, occasionally waving its detached arm in the air.

There were so many women on the base, Cassian's sleepy subconsciousness noted. So many beautiful, smart, emotionally stable women.

Why did he always get himself into such a mess?

The corridors of the ancient Massasi temple were almost empty at that hour, apart from a couple of pilots spilling out of the hangar bay and towards the sleeping quarters at regular intervals. Overall, however, the base had gained some improvements over those couple of weeks when they were gone - the electricity had clearly been extended everywhere, which meant they finally didn't have to rely on their glowsticks not to end up flattened against a stone wall. There was also a faint hint of music somewhere far away - was it the hangar bay or the mess hall?

As they walked towards the med bay, Cassian realised the reappearance of that familiar nervous energy humming through his body. He hadn't seen Marla since they arrived on base - she was immediately snatched by a team of medics, together with the rest of the prisoners, and transported to the med bay. He went in to check on her right after the mission debrief, but he was informed that they administered more anaesthetics and declared they would keep her asleep for a couple of days to help her regenerate. It also made it easier to take care of her multiple bone fractures and all the smaller injuries that required attention.

He would never admit it, but he was relieved to have a couple of days for himself. Not that he was tired of Marla; far from it, he was, in fact, still very much affected by her imprisonment, and he would be lying if he said he didn't miss her presence. There were many moments when he walked right up the med bay door, only to turn around with resignation at the last moment.

It was just... easier this way. They still never addressed what happened that night before the attack, and then the only other interaction he had with her was right after her rescue - and talking about their feelings wasn't exactly very high on their agenda at that moment,

But sooner or later, they would have to talk about it and agree on some sort of strategy. And for the first time in his military career, Cassian had no idea what strategy would work best.

The past couple of days had been a blur. Marla remembered a bit from their journey back to the base - the memory of the rescue itself had been a bit hazy, but then she remembered waking up in her quarters on the ship. Luckily, someone had left a night light on - whether that was a deliberate attempt to make her feel safer or not, it definitely helped her immediately recognise where she was. Or, more specifically, where she wasn't. And that alone made her feel a thousand times better, even if she was still hurting in every possible manner.

Her first instinct then had been to go to the cockpit. She had to pass a number of heavily wounded people on her way and had to try very hard not to look at that one man who was having his malfunctioning cybernetic prosthetic re-amputated - but once she made it, she could finally let out a breath of relief. She was home. She knew it because she was on her ship, because she could see the stars outside of the viewport, and because Cassian was there.

She must have fallen asleep in the pilot chair because the next thing she remembered was getting out of the ship, supported by someone she didn't recognise. As soon as they landed, they got swarmed by medics, nurses, and people who had nothing to do with medicine but were recruited to help. Someone was coordinating the efforts - they must have made a list of the most injured on their way back because it was surprisingly organised. At one point, someone approached her with a stretcher, but she just let out a short laugh and began limping her way inside the base.

Cassian caught up with her in no time; of course he did. And just as sure as the sound of his footsteps and his arm reaching out to support her, she felt the familiar warmth spreading over her entire body, in a way that was both beautiful and terrifying.

But she didn't dare say anything, and neither did he, and once they got to the med bay, there were so many people bustling about, so many med droids pushing her towards an empty bed, so many sounds and people and eyes, and soon enough he slipped away and disappeared. Moments later, she felt a dull stab of a needle in her forearm, and before she could react (somehow, she wasn't thrilled about needles, not after her last encounter with them), she fell asleep on the squeaky hospital bed.

The next few days were swathed in a thick fog of blurry awakenings and immediate returns to sleep. She would only regain consciousness for long enough to open her eyes and get a very vague understanding of where she was and why, before a med droid would roll over in her direction, fiddle with something above her head, and suddenly she would be out again.

And that suited her very well, because as soon as she realised she was in a med bay, as soon as she saw the medical equipment, and the hospital beds, and the people in white scrubs that looked too much like lab coats - there was always a cold wave of irrational panic creeping in from the back of her head. The place looked nothing like the lab in that Imperial research facility - it was too busy, too colourful, and too warm . Still, she couldn't help but check for restraints every time she woke up.

The one time she stayed awake for a bit longer, she had just begun registering her surroundings again when a med droid appeared out of nowhere and unceremoniously grabbed her forearm, clearly attempting to hook her up to some sort of an IV. Still hazy from the days spent under anaesthesia, she jumped up and unthinkingly pushed the droid away. A bit too forcefully, perhaps, seeing how the surprised helper ended up crashing into the next bed with a loud thump.

'Lieutenant Reid. Good to see you're awake. You seem to be doing much better, but we're gonna need to keep you with us for just a couple more days to help you regain all the strength.'

The person talking turned out to be a young man with a calm, almost apologetic smile and a datapad in one hand.

'I'm feeling fine. I don't need to stay here. And I definitely don't need whatever this little fella was trying to give me.'

'The med droid,' the man started, eyeing the battered droid that was still knocked down a couple of metres from Marla's bed, 'is going to administer the IV fluids. They will help you feel...'

'Like hell he is,' she protested loudly, sitting up on her bed and gathering the strength to stand up. The sudden change of position made her see stars for a moment, but she was determined not to let it show.

'Lieutenant, I'm gonna have to ask you to lay down. I promise this will help.'

Marla snorted cynically, sending the man a hateful look. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and began standing up.

'Lieutenant-' the man reached out a hand in her direction, and that was definitely his mistake. Grabbing the first thing she spotted, which happened to be a durasteel IV stand, Marla moved to a defensive position.

'I don't think so,' she seethed. It crossed her mind how ridiculous she must have looked, still in her dirty and ripped clothes, with bacta patches around her hand and ribs, swinging an IV stand with manic desperation in her eyes. Still, she was not going to let them get near her. She was fine, for fuck's sake.

The doctor looked tired as he took a step back.

'Look, if I were to fight every patient who thinks they know better, I would be doing nothing else all day. You are free to do whatever you want, but I must inform you it is my duty to report any incidents to the command.'

'Great. I'm sure they will be delighted to see my name again. Thanks for the heads up, buddy.'

She lowered the metal rod and started towards the exit, only to have her way barred at the last moment.

'Cassian. Hi.'

'Lieutenant Reid. I was asked to escort you back to your hospital bed.'

If she was happy to see him for a split second, all of that evaporated immediately at the sound of his words.

'Well, I'm sorry you have been troubled for nothing. I'm fine, and I'm leaving. Now, if you excuse me...'

She took a step forward and almost bumped into his chest. He was clearly not moving anywhere.

'Don't think for a second that I wouldn't fight you, captain .'

She was staring him down with all the defiance and intensity her tired body could muster. They were silent for a while, each waiting for the other one to stand down.

Finally, Cassian sighed and looked over her shoulder towards the doctor.

'Doctor. What's her status?'

'I told you I'm-'

'She is recovering quickly, but she needs to keep resting for another couple of days. I have also prescribed a set of tonics to combat the side effects of dehydration.'

'Noted. Can this be administered in her quarters?'

The doctor paused for a moment, visibly undecided.

'I mean- technically. But she would need to stay in bed-'

'For fuck's sake, I'm right here.'

'Got it,' Cassian was visibly set on ignoring her input. 'I'll have her set up in her quarters. You can send over one of the droids in ten minutes. I'll see to it that she receives her treatment.'

'You will do no such-'

'Do you want to stay here?' he retorted with irritation evident in his voice, finally acknowledging her existence. She rolled her eyes but stayed silent. 'Good. Let's go.'

Cassian was visibly tired and even more visibly annoyed, but there was a hint of gentleness in his touch as he grabbed her by the arm to support her. Marla wanted to be mad, she wanted to tell him off for trying to order her around, but the mixture of exhaustion and a slight surprise at the contact with his warm hand subdued her frustration just enough to have her keep her mouth shut for the rest of the way.

'I think I liked you more when you were unconscious,' Cassian murmured gravely, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly when she looked at him. Marla realised she hadn't seen him smile in a longest time.

Fine, she would take that stupid IV.

Quite soon, Marla realised that she liked herself more when she was unconscious, too. It prevented her from thinking about all those things that were suddenly much scarier than all of the Empire combined.

She had been happy to see Cassian in that Imperial facility, his face being the first real thing to have emerged out of the cold and damp darkness in days. She had been happy to see him in the cockpit of their ship on the way back to the base, him and his tired, concerned face that was stained with someone's blood. And she had been happy (although she would never admit it) to see him in the med bay, where his presence once again reassured her that she was home , and those constantly beeping monitors and needles and scalpels were there to help people, not to experiment on them.

She was happy to see him, she really was, but that happiness was tainted with the memory of how his skin had felt under her fingertips and the petrifying adoration in his eyes that was both the most treasured accolade and a fatal curse, or a poison, one that would slowly weaken them both over time.

But how does one turn their eyes on an exploding star, when all the colours dance their final dance, when the destruction of something so beautiful and life-affirming evokes this unstoppable fascination and yearning, yearning to become part of the luminous spectacle, even if getting closer means your ship burns and melts and joins the grim cluster of cosmic debris.

And so she gave in and told herself - yet again - she would be able to pull up at the last minute, she would avoid being trapped in the gravitational field, she would just look a little bit longer.

Cassian walked her back to her room and helped her take off the bacta patches she had around her ribs - keeping all the professional distance a captain should. It was funny to see him like this, so careful not to let his fingers linger for too long on her skin, so intent on being as mechanical and impersonal as possible. As if he hadn't already seen all of her, both physically and emotionally.

He waited patiently as she took a shower, her first one in a week. Marla knew he must have noticed how the door to her refresher had been left slightly ajar, just enough to let the steam out, but apparently not enough for him to read it as an invitation. Or maybe he did, but decided now was the time to begin acting all gentlemanly.

Or maybe he was no longer interested, now that her body was covered in fresh scars and his hands had already claimed every square centimetre of her skin. What was there left to explore, what was there to want, when he had already taken everything she could give him and more?

He was still waiting in her room when she finished the shower, and looked as casual as one could when she circled around the room in an oversized t-shirt that was drowning her in a way that couldn't possibly have been doing her body any favour.

After a while, she located a hairbrush and began combing through her dripping wet hair.

'How long exactly are you planning to act as my security guard? You must have realised by now that you can just rig the door panel if you really want to make sure I don't escape.'

'Crossed my mind,' he said flatly, watching her struggle to braid her hair with one good hand. 'May I?'

Marla had no idea what invisible force was looking over her that day, but somehow she managed not to drop the hairbrush at the last moment. And not to suffocate from forgetting how to breathe.

The way he had said it made it sound like the most natural thing in the world, so logical - she was injured, doing one's hair with one hand was challenging, he had two good hands ( and a very skilful set of fingers) - of course, it was only natural to offer help. She was sure she would have done the same for anyone else, for Aevie, for that Mandalorian girl who supposedly helped get her out of prison, even for Salvatore, if there had been anything left on his head to braid.

And yet she was absolutely dissolving at the sound of these words, the same ones she'd heard before; only then they had been an interlude to something she would be wise not to think about at that moment.

Somehow though, he looked as casual as one could. Stupid spy with his stupid poker face.

'Yeah. Thanks. They said I'm gonna need to wear the cast for a couple more days,' she mumbled somewhat apologetically.

He crossed the room to reach her, and suddenly it felt like the cruellest déjà vu. He was carefully running his fingers through her wet hair, and she was staring right into the core of a burning sun, praying for a quick and painless death.

The closeness, the gentle touch, the barely registerable huff of his breath on her shoulder - it was so much, almost too much, but it also felt so good. She shut her eyes tightly as he continued down the length of her hair, trying to focus on anything else than the opportunity she had within her grasp. Seconds turned into minutes, and she wasn't sure anymore when was the last time she breathed.

'Hey,' he said quietly, placing one hand on her shoulder, and she realised he had finished quite a while ago, and she was still there, struggling to breathe and tense to the limits. 'You know you're safe here, right?'

How could he even... Why? Is it because she was so tense? Did he think she was afraid-

And just like that, all the repressed pain, uncertainty and fear that she tried so hard not to let in when she was in that cell by herself - all of that somehow came back in that moment, triggered by the softness and concern behind that one question. He didn't deserve to think he was anything less than the only thing that kept her sane through those long, scary nights when her only companions were the screams of tortured prisoners and a throbbing pain in her skull. He must know the only way she had survived was by detaching herself from everything that was happening, and taking her mind to the one place where they wouldn't ever find her: in her imagination, she was on her ship, sitting in the pilot seat, and staring in the stars outside of the viewport, and Cassian was always there with her, sitting right next to her, and he was telling her she would be all right over and over again until his voice in her head drowned out even the loudest of screams.

He deserved to know these things. But then, how do you tell someone all that and not make it sound like a promise? She couldn't afford to make any promises, just as he couldn't afford to accept any. They were at war, and the Rebellion always had to come first. They had no right no make any promises. Hell, they had no right to have any other feelings apart from those directed at the Empire and the Rebellion.

She wanted nothing else than to tell him how much it meant to be around him, to have him care for her, to have that one treasured memory of how his lips felt on hers.

But she also wanted to do the right thing , and so she did the exact opposite of what her body was telling her to do and took a large step forward to build some distance between them. When she then turned around to face him, she could see the concern in his eyes, and she hated herself for the cold and casual tone she somehow managed to muster.

'Yeah. I know.'

There was no way in hell he believed that, and he was now probably more worried than ever. He seemed to think that she was afraid of him, that it was somehow his fault, and she wanted to grab her blaster and shoot her stupid useless heart for not letting her tell him how wrong he got it.

Of all the things she wanted to tell him, none sounded good enough - or safe enough.

So instead, she gritted her teeth and sent him a fake smile.

'I should be going,' he muttered flatly after a moment. 'The med droid will be here any minute. Just stay in bed for as long as they tell you, okay?'

His voice was seemingly emotionless, but there was an undertone of defeat, and she wanted to yell at him, tell him that he was the only source of warmth in her frozen body - but the door was already closing behind him, and all she could do was do bite down on her lip and try not to scream.

She had planned to follow the doctor's orders; she really had. But then she spent two days without leaving her room, having only a med droid (who checked on her several times a day and sometimes delivered new tonics or bacta patches) as a thought partner, because after their last meeting Cassian had decided to make himself scarce. She didn't blame him; in fact, as painful as it was, she also knew it was necessary and needed to help them recover from that brief moment of blindness, of madness, of selfishness, or whatever the fuck that was.

Still, sitting there by herself inevitably led her to thinking , and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

So, she did the only thing she could think of, something as pathetically Marla as possible - she sneaked out and went to check on that makeshift cantina they had put together with the rest of the crew before leaving for Scen.

The last time she was there, it was just their crew and a bunch of crates with alcohol they had borrowed from an Imperial restaurant on one of their previous runs. Entering the place again, she didn't expect to see it bustling with activity. There were at least twenty people inside, they had constructed something that resembled an actual bar counter, and someone even spray-painted the Rebel sign and the words "The Drunken Bantha" on the wall.

'Marla!' she heard a friendly voice, and soon she spotted a familiar face sending her a warm smile, 'Wait, aren't you supposed to be on bedrest?' Zafe asked, his loud and cheerful voice clearly indicating he'd already had a couple of drinks.

'Maybe,' she gave him a wide grin and sat by the table. Someone handed her a bottle of something unidentified and pungent. 'Not much of a secret hideout anymore, huh?'

'Yeah, turns out trying to keep a secret on a base filled with thieves and scoundrels isn't really that easy. Especially if that secret involves alcohol. This is nothing, though - you should have seen this place yesterday when everyone was still here...'

'Sounds like I'm missing out on some action. Whose ass are we kicking this time?'

'Not really,' Zafe made a face. 'It's some sort of a show of force. Someone's making some important speech on the holo net, and we were asked to send ships to show our support. Supposedly, we're an Alliance now.'

'Alliance, huh?'

'Yeah. Apparently, we weren't the only ones who managed to successfully enlist a bunch of local rebels. Everyone's been busy negotiating and agreeing on things and, well, allying . You've met the Phoenix squadron - that's just a part of it; we will now be becoming a central hub for all Rebel activity. All sorts of important people coming to our little moon.'

'Well, that's what we wanted. If it means we can finally do some actual fighting instead of sneaking around, then I'll drink to that.'

They took a moment to clink their bottles, Zafe leaning back in his chair ( where the hell did they get chairs? ).

'Don't get me wrong, I'm all for having the numbers. It's just... I'd prefer these numbers not stationed in my formerly single quarters. You know, I've already grown used to not waking up to someone's snoring.'

'Wait. They are bunking us up again?'

'Oh, right, you wouldn't have heard. That's probably because a certain captain has fought the command to let you keep a single room until you are no longer on bedrest. But there's already a bunk waiting for you, riiiight above mine,' he winked, grinning widely.

Marla tried her best not to think about Cassian defending her single room in front of the command, but it was too late, and the redness had already crept onto her cheeks. Luckily, no one seemed to have been paying attention to her. Besides, she could easily justify the blushing with the alcohol.

Plus, she was sure Cassian would have done it for anyone. Nothing special.

'Why is it that I always end up bunked up with you, sergeant Caius? Have I not suffered enough?'

'Hey, you should be thanking me. You could have ended up with a bunch of strangers.'

'Maker,' she sighed dramatically, 'is there any way I can sign up to be moved back to that Imperial prison? At least they gave me a single cell...'

'Sorry, Lieutenant. Strangely enough, it kinda exploded after we had left,' he said with a proud grin, and Marla couldn't help but return the smile. She was teasing him, but in all reality, it actually wasn't that terrible of a solution. She had spent so many years sharing her quarters with other people, she could probably tolerate it a while longer.

'Okay. Who else is in our lucky bunch?'

'Aevie and Sal are on the other side of the room; there are also a couple of random folks from that group from Scen, don't really know them. But I guess we will get to know them, very intimately and very soon.' Zafe delivered with a smirk.

Marla groaned loudly, but then her brain registered one name missing from that list. Zafe was quick to read her. 'The command still has single rooms. Anyone with the rank of a captain and above, to be specific,' He winked at her knowingly.

'No way. No. Fucking. Way. Not fair,' In reality, she was praising the Maker. The last thing she needed was bumping into half-naked Cassian on her way to the bed. Or better yet, bumping into someone rolling out of Cassian's bunk in the morning.

Stars.

Yes, she could take roommates, as long as Cassian wasn't one of them.

Marla spent some time catching up with Zafe, but eventually, he stood up and stumbled drunkenly towards the exit, advising her to do the same. And, indeed, every muscle in her body was telling her she should do just that - she was feeling much better than days ago, but she was still weakened, and the alcohol definitely didn't help with regaining strength.

But it was so nice to finally not be confined to four naked walls, to see people, hear them chatter and laugh. And as much as her body would probably benefit from staying in bed, her soul was devouring all the stimuli around her and healing with every second of her being around others.

So she let her legs carry her forward, through the dimly lit corridors, towards the hangar bay, where the familiar smell of jet fuel tingled her nostrils.

She could indeed see more ships than when they had left for Scen, and if Zafe's account was correct, there were even more, currently cruising through hyperspace to show up in support of the new Rebel Alliance. She was rather happy no one had asked her to be part of that mission - she was never particularly good with grand speeches and theatrical gestures. But then again, she imagined the view of hundreds of ships frozen motionlessly in space must have been quite a sight. An unsung song of hope. An alliance, at last.

She took a long swig from her bottle and started towards the outer landing pad. She was painfully aware of how slowly she was walking and how unsteady her steps were, but it felt too good to give up.

As soon as she was outside and felt the warm air caressing her skin, she realised what a luxury it was not to shiver from cold, not to see your own breath and not to have your fingers freezing off within seconds of stepping outside. Even with all its humidity, Yavin IV always had a calming effect on her. It was so reassuring to see the same stars shining brightly in the sky, casting a delicate, ethereal light over the dense forest and the ancient structures scattered around the area.

Marla took a moment to appreciate the view, leaning over a supply crate left outside. In her quiet awe, she almost didn't hear the footsteps approaching from the base.

'I wish I could say I was surprised,' Cassian's voice reached her from behind.

She wasn't ready to face him, damn it. Especially not in these circumstances, slightly intoxicated and looking at the stars. Way too poetic and cliche. Way too many scenarios in which this could go wrong.

She took another long sip from the bottle and decided not to turn around, instead fixing her gaze somewhere beyond the vastness of the jungle.

'Are you saying I'm boring?' she retorted, trying to hide the slight hint of panic in her voice.

'I wouldn't dare,' he said with a slight chuckle. She loved the lightness in his voice. Somehow, it transported her back to her early days with the Rebellion, when the cause and the Empire were her only problems. Seemed like a lifetime ago.

'The speech is about to start. They are gathering in the hangar bay.'

Oh, right, the speech. As much as Marla disliked politics, she had to admit she was rather curious; the whole base seemed to be buzzing with anticipation.

She decided to turn around towards the base - and towards Cassian. The light from Yavin's three other moons spilt over his features, casting a warm glow over his face and making his eyes look almost silver.

Somehow, she felt a bit more woozy again. Damn jet juice. She should have known better than to trust Zafe's choice of drink.

'Yeah, let's go inside,' she said, a bit more weakly than she would have wanted to.

There was that investigative look on his face again that she knew so well, and for a moment, she had the uncomfortable feeling of being dissected into small components. Worst of all, she understood he could read her like a book - she could see him raise one eyebrow and take a breath to say something, but he stopped himself at the very last second.

Marla did her best to put a brave face on, but her body wasn't still fully cooperative. She was slow and dizzy, and she saw Cassian hesitate and bite back yet another remark. He knew how much she hated being pitied, so he didn't say anything, instead accompanying her in silence, adapting his pace to her limping.

Finally, they made it inside. In the middle of the hangar bay, there was a droid - an old R1 series. At least two dozen people of different ages and races were gathered around, chatting excitedly.

Cassian stopped somewhere at the back - at a distance that would still allow them to see everything but that placed them away from attention. That's what he did best - hiding just out of sight. Getting close, but not close enough.

She saw him stop next to a wall and turn around to wait for her. She hated how pathetically incapable she was at that moment, but he didn't seem to mind - or, at least, was doing a very good job at pretending he didn't. Meanwhile, Marla made a painful realisation that her legs were beginning to have a mind of their own, barely able to sustain her weight anymore - but she was so close, she would lean against the wall soon and rest, just a couple more steps...

Before she could register what was happening, Marla felt Cassian grab her by the arms, and she realised he had caught her at the very last moment, most likely saving her from falling flat on her face.

Good job, Marla. If he wasn't pitying you before, he surely is now.

As she was trying to get her head to stop spinning, she felt him support her weight, help her with those last couple of steps, and then assist her with sitting down against the wall.

'All right?'

Cassian knew her well enough to know he should hide his concern, but she knew him well enough to see through it immediately. And her mind began reflexively defending against that concern - until she looked up and saw his face in front of hers, and suddenly the need to hide behind protective walls evaporated completely.

For the first time since she could remember, she didn't feel the need to prove how tough she was, to prove that she could handle anything bad the world threw at her. It felt strange and new, but also freeing . Like a restrictive garment you were forced to wear that you could now tear off; like screaming after days of silence; like falling asleep in her own bed after a long battle. It was warm and natural. And she'd only ever felt that way around Cassian.

And he was right there, his warm dark eyes telling her he knew , he recognised her and her fear, and yet he was still willing to accept all of it, all of her .

His eyes, Maker, she could drown in them; such a perfect way to die. And they were getting closer, too, and so was the rest of his face as he slowly leaned towards her. And soon enough, she could feel his breath fanning over her face, his lips just centimetres away, hesitantly making their way towards hers, emanating heat and anticipation and-

Suddenly, a loud sound came from the centre of the hangar bay, and they both bolted up in surprise, immediately regaining safe distance and desperately avoiding eye contact. After the longest couple of seconds in her life, Marla saw Cassian move away to her side, sitting down by the wall and fixing his gaze forward, on the blue projection that was now being displayed by the droid.

Right, the speech. Suddenly, Marla couldn't care less - but there it was, anyway.

'This is Senator Mon Mothma.'

Well, thank you, Senator Mon Mothma, for ruining a perfect moment.

'I have been called a traitor for speaking out against a corrupt Galactic Senate. A Senate manipulated by the sinister tactics of the Emperor.'

The woman speaking was wearing official senatorial attire, but her voice had the determination and spark Marla has never heard in any other politician. And there was something in her eyes, too - she had the eyes of a leader, but there was also kindness, compassion and a hint of warmth.

'For too long I have watched the heavy hand of the Empire strangle our liberties, stifling our freedoms in the name of ensuring our safety. No longer!'

Marla couldn't help herself and quickly glanced at Cassian. His eyes were sparking, too, but with a different kind of fire - one that could only burn inside a soul of a man who has seen and done things no high-born Senator would ever even want to imagine.

She felt a sudden need to lift off some of that weight, to offer shelter from the raging fire - but she knew her own scars and burns were running just as deep.

'Despite Imperial threats, despite the Emperor himself, I have no fear as I take new action. For I am not alone. Beginning today, we stand together as allies.'

The Senator's voice was now echoing between the walls, powerful, determined, full of purpose.

So there it was. A Rebel Alliance. They really did it.

'I hereby resign from the Senate to fight for you, not from the distant hall of politics but from the front lines. We will not rest until we bring an end to the Empire until we restore our Republic!'

A wave of excitement ran through the hangar bay. People began chattering, cheering; some were even clapping.

'Are you with me?'

It felt like a battle cry. It felt like an explosion, a lightning bolt, a maelstrom; it felt like all the elements at their most powerful combined together. It felt like hope.

The projection ended, but the people gathered in the hangar bay remained in place. Only now, instead of quiet focus, there was an atmosphere of victory. Someone jumped on top of a crate and started singing something in a language Marla didn't recognise; elsewhere, a group of people initiated something that was a weird mixture of a very uncoordinated dance and a very sincere group hug. Everyone else was just talking; dozens of people chattering simultaneously, in different languages - but you didn't need a protocol droid to figure out the general sentiment.

It was good to have a reason to celebrate, at last. Even if just for that one evening.

Marla was a bit more cautious in her enthusiasm, but she would be lying if she said the triumphant atmosphere hadn't rubbed off on her.

Maybe there is some hope for them after all. For the Galaxy, for the Rebellion, for her.

A wave of warmth began spreading through her body, and she suddenly remembered what the speech had interrupted. But for some inexplicable reason, she no longer felt the awkwardness or shame that had been so overwhelming mere minutes ago. She didn't quite know what it was, but something about that experience, about the shared enthusiasm and about Cassian's warm body next to hers - something about all that made her believe in the impossible for just a short moment. And for that moment, she let herself forget about all of her fear.

And so, freshly stripped of everything that had been weighing down on her before, she rested her head on his shoulder. Slowly, hesitantly, but with a determination known only to those who realise how fleeting this kind of clarity can be.

As her temple made contact with Cassian's shoulder, she heard the slightest hitch in his breath, but he immediately relaxed back again. And then, he tilted his own head to rest against hers, and she could swear she felt his lips gently brush over her hair.

Neither dared to move or say anything, afraid to destroy the sacredness of that moment. They sat quietly, away from the joyous cheering and singing, entangled in a small celebration of their own.

And even if it were just an illusion created by a perfect conjunction of unrelated elements, even if tomorrow she would wake up troubled by the same doubts, and a cruel reality check set them apart again - they would always have this moment to cherish, that moment when they felt unstoppable and fearless and whole again.

Maker, she felt like she could take the whole Empire on by herself. What chance did a Galaxy full of darkness stand against the light she was now carrying in her chest?

'I really hope this works out,' Cassian's quiet voice rang in her ear, the air vibrating and tickling her forehead.

She didn't know if he was talking about the alliance or… something completely different. But it didn't matter. Or maybe it did, but she didn't have to think about it now.

She didn't need certainty, she needed... this. Precisely as it was at that moment. With his head leaning against hers, a gentle buzz in her head and the promise of a galaxy that could hope again.

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