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#because i was raised with that being the only thing that worked for me
ktgoodmorning · 2 days
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Superstar
Alexia Putellas x reader
Inspired by the song superstar by MARINA. Alexia misses you after a rough away game when you aren't there to comfort her.
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Before I met you, I pushed them all away Soon as I kissed you, I wanted you to stay What I like about you is you know who you are What you like about me is I know what I'm not
You had never really cared much about dating before. It’s not that you were opposed to having a partner that you could share your life with, it just always seemed like more of an inconvenience for you. The idea of someone trying to constantly tag along with you and share everything made you cringe, causing you to never intentionally pursue a romantic relationship. 
Those that knew you liked to say it was because you had been raised “fiercely independent”, while your closest friends liked to say you were just scared and avoiding being hurt. In reality, it was likely a combination of both, and no matter what the reason was, you didn't really care. At times when someone came along, you would push them away before it could get too serious, usually after becoming annoyed with some minute little habit they had. So you never really imagined getting into a serious relationship before. 
Not before Alexia. 
Alexia changed everything for you. The way that she didn’t try to cling onto you so hard is exactly what drew you together. Both of you had similar feelings when it came to dating and it worked perfectly. You gave each other the space you needed while still fitting your lives together in the ways you wanted to. 
When you first started seeing each other, your friends had given you a lecture that you shouldn’t push her away, unknowing it was something that Alexia had been told by her own friends as well. The moment you shared your first kiss, you both knew that this relationship was something you’d be willing to fight for. As much as it scared you to commit to another person, it was even scarier to imagine a life without her.
.
It was after your second date that you received a text from her, shortly after dropping you off at home: “I should have kissed you.” It made you smile knowing that she was thinking the same thing you were. You both wanted it and yet you both chickened out, something that was extremely rare for either of you. 
She was all you could think about until your next date which came only a few days later, moving quicker than you were normally willing to. You had gotten lunch together before going on a walk along the beach, eventually sitting next to each other in the sand to look out at the ocean and get to know each other further. Alexia was known to be quieter around people she didn’t know well, especially when they weren’t footballers. In a way, she was so consumed with the sport that she felt like she didn't know how to talk to people who didn’t feel the same, but here she was, opening up to you more than ever before. Something about your conversation made it feel so easy and effortless in a way neither of you were used to. 
You sat talking for hours, migrating closer together as you did so. Eventually you leaned into her slightly, still too scared to make eye contact, just giggling and talking while you watched the waves crash against the shore. Some of your conversation was more serious, talking about your upbringings, but just as easily, the two of you would turn to quickly joking around and poking fun at each other. It was the perfect mix of deeper conversations while still having fun. 
 When the conversation came to a lul, you could feel her eyes on you, making you turn to finally meet them. Nerves were radiating from her, almost making you feel them yourself. She was terrified of messing it up with you and you were equally as terrified, both sharing glances down at each other’s lips but too scared to actually move any further. 
“Can I kiss you?” she breathed out, hardly audible, her eyes glued to your lips. 
“Please.” That was all she needed to hear, immediately using one hand to hold the back of your neck and pull you into her.
The kiss was perfect, somehow much better than any you’d had before, even though you knew it was just because of the girl in front of you and the way she had you feeling better than you ever had. It was the perfect mix of gentle yet still confident, moving slowly and with purpose against you. Alexia’s nerves seemingly disappeared the second that she finally made the move. 
And that was the moment both of you felt something change. Something about what you had together was different, the idea of pushing her away, unfathomable. Suddenly, you could understand all the people that got clingy with their significant other. The idea of sharing your life didn’t feel so bad, as long as it was with Alexia.
And I, I know that you never sleep Oh, so impossible to dream When you're far away from me Oh, I, I'm all you could ever need Oh, so impossible to breathe
From that moment on, your lives had quickly become intertwined, still independent in yourselves but able to let your guard down when you came home to her. It was a constant that brought both of you great comfort, knowing you’d always have the other to love and back you up no matter what. 
It was exactly this that Alexia came to rely on. Anytime she had a bad game, all she needed was to come home to you and settle into your arms. She rarely slept after games in general and that wasn’t something that changed easily, but at the very least, you were able to help her relax and get some much-needed rest.
 She was grateful that you never lectured her about her lack of sleep or somewhat insane mindset when it came to football. Most people in her life were quick to scold her about working herself too hard but you were just there to open your arms as soon as she realized she needed it. It’s not that you liked it, you knew it wasn’t good for her, but you understood it. You were often considered a workaholic yourself, something that made the two of you work well together. So when she was finally willing to admit she needed a break, you would always be there to take one with her.
Neither of you realized how much you’d come to rely on each other until you were forced to be apart. You both liked to pretend that you were okay on your own if you needed to be, but when times got tough, it became much more difficult. 
It was after an away game, one that you weren’t able to attend due to your job. The game hadn’t gone well, especially by your girlfriend’s standards. It had resulted in a draw for Barcelona that Alexia placed entirely on her shoulders. She had missed more shots than she should have, made too many mistakes, and should have been able to pull out the win. Of course nobody else had thought any of those things, but Alexia fully believed it. 
She was lucky enough to have gotten a single room, a perk of being captain she supposed, which was good considering how restless she was following the game. The more she tossed and turned, the more frustrated she got. It was normal for her to be worked up after a game so it shouldn't have been surprising that that was the case now, especially after such a rough game. 
All Alexia could think about was you and being in your arms, at home and safe, smelling your mix of perfume and body wash radiating off of you. It had only been a few days since she had seen you but the thought was all-consuming. She wanted nothing more than to lay with you, listening to you ramble quietly as you fell asleep, hardly making sense. 
The more she thought about it, the more she missed you. The frustration had grown to a level that almost brought tears to her eyes. She kicked off the blankets, flipped her pillow, and tossed around, unable to find any resolution. After trying all her usual things to help rid her of her post-game adrenaline, she knew exactly what she needed to do, no matter how much she tried to avoid it. Before either of you would be gone, you would always say, “call me if you need anything, or even if you don’t!” It always made Alexia roll her eyes, never actually doing it unless just out of boredom
Nothing terrified either of you more than the idea of “needing anything.” Your girlfriend wasn’t one to rely on someone else and the thought of it made her heart race. What if her call woke you up? Your sleep schedule was messed up enough she knew you’d likely be awake but she wasn’t sure she should risk it. She didn’t want to bother you. What if her neediness scared you away? 
At this point, her internal conflict and massive frustration had tears running down her face, something that only freaked her out further. Alexia rarely cried and yet here she was, alone in her hotel room, sobbing like a baby while she stared at your contact page pulled up on her phone. She spent a while with her thumb hovering over the call button before finally giving in and pressing it, filled with embarrassment over needing your comfort. 
I love the way we worked so hard Yeah, we've come so far Baby, look at me, you're my superstar When I'm afraid, when the world's gone dark Come and save my day, you're my superstar
The second you picked up and she heard your voice, she immediately relaxed.
“Ale? Are you okay?” Your voice was somewhat rough; she hadn’t woken you up although you hadn’t been far from sleep when your phone lit up with her face.
“Sí, estoy bien, sólo te extrañé.” you could hear the exhaustion in her voice and knew she was lying just because of the time she was calling you. If you really wanted to see how she was doing, you’d need to see her face as it was usually easy for you to read, especially when you knew she wouldn’t be willing to admit whatever was wrong.
“Why don’t you FaceTime me? I want to see you.” you pressed the button before she had time to object. Even though it was dark, you could tell she was struggling just from the blank look on her face. “Ale, what’s wrong?”
Your girlfriend went silent, refusing to make eye contact. 
“Talk to me, amor. You can tell me anything, remember? I won’t judge you, I just want to help you.”
“I don’t know, I didn’t mean to wake you up, it’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t say that. You didn’t even wake me up, I promise. I just want to know what’s going on with you.” When you were met with more silence, you took it upon yourself to try to fill in the gaps, knowing that if you were wrong about something she’d jump in to correct you.
 “Are you beating yourself up over the draw tonight?” Her lack of response gave you all the information you needed to know you were right, letting out a sigh over how critical she was of herself. 
“Ale, do you realize how good you are? You are so talented, more than anyone I know, but even you can’t expect to single-handedly win a game. Nobody was playing their best today, and you know that. If you had won, you would never say that you were the sole reason you won. So you can’t say you’re the sole reason you lost.” 
She gave you a small shrug, “I don’t know. I just feel like I could’ve done better.”
“Alexia Putellas, look at me. I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest with me, okay? Do you realize that you’re a good football player?”
You were met with more silence, her eyes darting away from yours once again.
“Alexia, you’re the same person who won all those awards. Just because it was before your ACL doesn’t mean it wasn't you. You’re still that same person, that same amazing, incredible, record-breaking footballer. And besides that, every one of your teammates looks up to you. I look up to you.” This got her attention. As soon as you said it, her eyes met yours. 
“Why would you look up to me, amor? You work so hard and are accomplishing so much and-.”
“Ale, do you hear yourself? That’s literally what you’re doing. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. The way everyone does, really.” Her eyebrows were scrunched together, almost confused by your words, forcing you to continue. “Like I said, you’re so insanely talented, Alexia. But that’s not even the reason everyone loves you, at least not the reason I do. I love the way you dedicate yourself to the things you love, the people you love. If you missed every shot you ever took, I’d still love you just as much, so would your family, so would everyone. It’s about so much more than just how you play. It’s about how you cheer me up when I’m pissed off about work stuff and the way you are constantly making me feel better about myself than I ever could on my own. You are a superstar in every way, and only a tiny part of that has anything to do with how you play.”
You never judge me for any of my fears Never turn your back, always keep my body near All of the days that we spend apart My love is a planet revolving your heart
When you looked up from your speech, you could see tear tracks running down her cheeks, trying her best to hold it together. “Ale, amor, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you I-”
“No, no, it’s okay.” she shook her head quickly, wiping her tears away. “I’m not upset, I promise. I don’t know what I’m feeling, if I’m being honest, but I’m not upset.” 
“See if you can tell me about it, even if it doesn’t all make sense, that’s okay. Just try.” 
You watched her take a deep breath in hopes of getting her thoughts together before speaking again. “I’m so tired. I know that. And I’m overwhelmed by how much I’m trying to think about right now. But these are happy tears I think. I just can’t believe how good you are to me and how lucky I am. All the things you said to me, just made me so grateful for you. And I normally don’t talk about stuff like this, you know that. But the way you always know what to say and don’t make me feel crazy. I just- I don’t even know. I think what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you for sticking with me, even when I’m losing it.”
We'll stick together Make it through the storm You and I Whoever said we couldn't have it all?
Alexia finally gave you a soft smile as she caught her breath, much calmer now that she had gotten all her thoughts off her chest. 
“You don’t have to thank me, Ale, and you’re not losing it. I’ve missed you too and as much as that’s weird for us, I think that’s how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work.” you both chuckled lightly, knowing how new you both were to the feelings you shared. “But everything I said is true, I really mean it.”
“I appreciate it, amor. There’s no one else I’d rather navigate this stuff with. I feel like when I talk to you, you make it all make sense. Like we can figure out anything.”
“Well I don’t know about anything, but we can sure try. Although I think you sound like you’re falling asleep so maybe we’ll save the figuring out everything for tomorrow, okay?” 
Alexia gave you a nod while doing her best to conceal a yawn, much more tired than she realized now that she had calmed down. “I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight mi amor. I love you.”
“I love you, Alexia. Call me if you need anything else, or even if you don’t.” She rolled her eyes at the sentiment, just as she always did, but smiled at herself as she hung up, grateful that she had called, whether she was willing to admit she needed something or not.
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colonelarr0w · 3 days
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Can you write one where Astarion realizes that Tav is acting strangely because it's actually Orin and the actual Tav is kidnapped by her?? Thank you so much and I love your work!!
A/N - Oh my god I absolutely adore the trope of kidnapped lover being rescued (the parasites in me crave the angst). I hope you like this, I had a lot of fun writing it! So thank you @fanficlov-3-r <3
I Know You
Preview - "And he knew that the others knew that little fact as well, considering that Shadowheart had already whispered to the others something along the lines of, '(Y/N) isn't amongst us.'"
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon BG3 violence
Word Count - 3.9k
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Astarion prided himself on his ability to have memorized everything about you, from how your nose scrunched when you saw something you disliked to how your eyes sparkled when you noticed him staring at you from across the fire. It was those little things that simply made you … well … you. 
Which was why he found it very offputting when he noticed your excessive alcohol intake while attending a Tiefling party. Yes, you liked to indulge in a glass of wine or two while you chatted happily with Astarion or any of your other companions – but never had he seen you cradle an entire bottle of wine to yourself and drink it in its entirety. 
But that behavior was only one of multiple that he had noticed throughout the night; you were dancing with any Tiefling who offered their hand, you seemed to stray away from him and the others throughout the night, and the smile you wore did not reach your eyes in the slightest. It seemed fake, similar to the smiles that Astarion had once flashed at you to get your clothes off. 
“Is it just me or does (Y/N) seem a little … off?” Shadowheart comments, her eyebrow raising as she watches you indulge another Tiefling in a drunken dance. You stumble over both your feet and his own, a detail that both she and Astarion narrow their eyes at. 
For an oh-so-grateful leader, you were being careless tonight. 
Astarion’s eyes follow those of Shadowheart’s, landing on you just as you are finishing a dance with your fifth Tiefling of the night. He bows to you shakily, and in return, you curtsy – another move that Astarion had never thought he would see you perform. 
“I must say that I agree with Shadowheart. Excuse me for a moment,” Astarion abandons his half-empty wine glass, sliding it across the bar. The bartender raises a brow at Astarion, but says nothing. 
You chuckle heartily as a Tiefling female approaches you, in her hands a sparkling glass of champagne. You take it from her the moment it’s offered, just about to bring it to your lips before a pale hand clasps over your shoulder. 
“Ah-ah darling, I think that’s enough with the drinking for one night,” Astarion says with a fanged smile, angling himself so that he’s able to pluck the champagne glass from your hands quickly. You turn to him, eyebrows pinched together in an expression that mixes frustration and shock – as if you had been caught doing something that you shouldn’t. 
“Come off Astarion, I can indulge if I so choose,” you retort quickly, fingers extending towards your glass. Astarion lifts his arm, the glass just barely out of your reach. “You are indulging tonight, are you not?”
He chuckles, his chest rumbling against your shoulder as his scarlet eyes rake over your figure. Something was wrong, it wasn’t just your general composure – it was everything down to the very way that you stood on your own two feet. 
“While that is true, I am watching what I indulge in,” Astarion says, already glancing at Shadowheart, who nods knowingly. She mumbles something inaudibly then to Gale, and soon a secret message is relayed over all of your companions. 
The Tiefling female had long since left your side, only adding to your annoyance that Astarion had come to your side. You turn sharply to face him, eyes narrowing at him. 
“And just explain to me why you thought it necessary to disrupt my fun?” you snap, glaring daggers into the vampire who stands in front of you. Astarion merely sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. His eyes flicker over you again, and it is in that moment that he realizes something … you were most certainly not you. 
And he knew that the others knew that little fact as well, considering that Shadowheart had already whispered to the others something along the lines of, “(Y/N) isn’t amongst us.” 
“Because I know you (Y/N), and right now,” Astarion pauses only to yank you closer, lowering his lips to your ear. “You are not who you say that you are.”
You freeze in his arms, eyes flickering to look at him. The crease in your eyebrows vanishes, your expression of frustration replaced now by one of shock. “What are you on about?”
“Oh come on now, don’t play dumb with me,” Astarion growls, his grip over your wrist tightening, “I know (Y/N), and she would never indulge in such things of her own accord.”
You swallow the growing lump in your throat, not protesting as a very angered Astarion drags you out of the Tiefling party. He is quickly flanked by Shadowheart and the others, none of whom offer you looks of sympathy – if anything, they look just as angered as the vampire in front of you. 
The moment that your feet touch camp, your wrists and ankles are promptly tied by Karlach, who offers you no answers even as you demand to know what in the hells is going on. Astarion stands quietly at her side, his arms folded over his chest whilst his mind promptly races.
Where were you? Who was sitting in your place? Where the hells were you?
With a singular wave of his hand over your body, Gale reveals Orin to the others, then steps back and glares down his nose at her. In response, her lips only turn upward in a grin, one that sends a shiver down the spines of those that surround her. 
“Where is–”
“Oh please, save me the dramatics,” Orin says with a roll of her eyes, adjusting herself so that she sits comfortably. Her attention moves to Astarion, her smile widening at the sight of the expression that he wears. 
“You have five minutes to answer our questions before–”
Orin’s head tilts in Lae’zel’s direction, her eyes crinkling as her smile widens impossibly further. Her lips part, a delighted chuckle falling from her lips. “Before what? You kill me? If I die, (Y/N)’s location dies with me.”
In a flash of white and silver, the blade of a dagger is pressed against the skin of Orin’s neck, pressed down just hard enough to draw a thin line of blood. Astarion kneels in front of Orin, narrowed eyes glaring daggers into her as his lips pull back in an angered growl. 
“You will reveal (Y/N)’s location lest you want to end up a paled mess on the ground.” He was shocked by how much your disappearance had affected him – especially considering that he was supposed to be keeping his affection for you a secret from the others. 
There was a reason behind his secrecy, however, a reason that you had agreed with when he had first proposed the idea to you. It was for your safety, for your protection. But it seemed like even with that … he still couldn’t keep the one thing that kept him sane safe. 
Orin chuckles, leaning forward so that her nose just barely grazes his own. He can feel her breath as it fans over his face – it disgusts him. 
“Is that so?” Her head tilts, another delighted chuckle bubbling up her throat and spilling over her lips. Astarion pushes the blade further against her, ignoring the yells of warning delivered by the other members of the party. 
His eyes narrow, his eyebrows pinch together, and his expression hardens. Orin only chuckles again, sighing dreamily in a way that reminds Astarion of a hopelessly lovesick girl. Gods, what he would give to plunge the blade of his dagger into her neck. 
“Fine, but I hope you know I’m not yielding because of your … intimidation,” Orin murmurs, pouting childishly as Astarion pulls her to her feet, still glaring at her. He says nothing as he drags her past the others, not checking over his shoulder to see that the others have followed him.
< … >
Another chilled shiver runs up the length of your spine, using your vertebrae as a ladder. You turn uncomfortably onto your side, trying once again to tug your ankles from their shackles. All you’re met with is the sound of rattling metal. 
It had been a few hours … or perhaps even a few days since you last saw the others. You didn’t know – perhaps time worked differently when you were captured. 
The last you remembered, you were walking silently along a forest pathway with Astarion a few feet behind you. You were engrossed in the beauty of the willow trees that hung silently over you, their branches serving you the beautiful luxury of shade that covered you from the sun’s blaring rays. 
Just as you turned a corner in the forest, a cold hand that wasn’t Astarion’s clasped over your own, tugging you away into a forest patch. One good knock to the side of the head … and that was the last that you were able to clearly remember. 
When you awoke, your ankles were shackled to a wall and your wrists were bound with rope, rubbing uncomfortably against your skin and leaving behind angry red marks. 
Your body had been littered with marks; cuts, bruises, and gashes. At first, they hadn’t hurt you at all – but you blamed that entirely on your adrenaline. Now every cut burned, every bruise ached, and every gash felt as though it would never stop bleeding. 
Surely every vampiric creature within a 50-mile radius could smell your blood … especially considering how much of it lay in a disgusting puddle surrounding your body. 
A shaky breath escapes you, one that you surely hoped would be your last. Your teary eyes flicker around the cell that you’d been thrown into; the cell that lacked even so much as a window. You were completely disconnected from the outside world, and for a singular moment, you thought that maybe you had died. 
And maybe you were okay with that now … with dying. 
Even though for so long you had tried your hardest to protect everyone – practically throwing your life down on the line for the lives of your companions – being captured was making you realize something. 
Maybe they didn’t care about you nearly as much as you cared about them.
If they cared, they would be searching for you. If they cared, you wouldn’t be bleeding out in some dank old cell with no way to know what time of day it was. If they cared … they would prove it, wouldn’t they?
A choked sob claws its way up your throat, legs curling inward. You wrap your arms around them, hugging them against your chest as your body curls inward into a fetal position. 
They didn’t care. Not Gale, not Karlach, not Lae’zel, not Shadowheart. 
Not even Astarion.
Astarion …
After everything that you had done for him. You had spared him that morning while walking with Shadowheart. You had let him stay in your camp even though he spat venomous insults each time you interacted politely with him. Hells, you had even let the damn man feed on you. 
In exchange for your blood, he was letting you rot alone in a cell. 
So much for helping others, you think quietly to yourself, tears slipping down your cheeks as your lashes flutter shut. A gentle numbness spreads over you as if someone had draped a blanket over you. It felt nice. It felt safe. 
Your shoulders relax, your lips part. 
One gentle breath falls from your lips before all goes silent.
< … >
“Come on now, I’ve led you right to where she is! The least you can do is entertain a conversation,” Orin complains loudly, huffing childishly as Astarion continues shoving her forward. 
There was no lie to her words, she had led Astarion and the others to where she had thrown you – a dimly lit dungeon hallway that was only filled with the sounds of low groans and dripping water, but even those had become scarce the longer that they walked. 
“The only thing I’ll entertain is your demise,” Astarion bites out, though he desperately wishes that he had kept his mouth shut. Orin doesn’t fail to catch the tremble in his voice – the vulnerability that seeps from his words. 
Her lips curl, another delighted chuckle rumbling somewhere deep inside of her chest. Her eyes flicker to catch a glimpse of Astarion’s profile, her chuckle deepening as she notices the emotional turmoil sketched into his features. 
“I wonder what you will do to me when you realize that she’s–”
“Hush,” Astarion hisses, reaching down and yanking the bonds around Orin’s wrist. The rub of the rope against her skin is enough to silence her. “Not another word out of you, wench.”
Orin stifles the small whimper of pain that had threatened to fall from her lips, instead turning to the cell that they were nearing; your cell. 
At the sight of the metal bars and uneven stones, she giggles. Astarion passes her off to Shadowheart, ignoring the cleric’s protests as he approaches the cell. 
“Oh shit.”
The world seems to go completely silent at the sight that lies before Astarion’s eyes, a sight that he immediately wishes that he could forget. 
You lay on your side with your back facing the cell’s door, blood – your blood – surrounding you in a crimson puddle. The bits of skin that Astarion can see are littered with cuts and bruises, your legs covered in gashes that continue to drip with fresh blood. 
In any other situation, Astarion would have marveled at both the sight and smell of your blood … perhaps even allowed himself to indulge in it. 
But now?
Gods, he had never been more disgusted by any one sight or smell. 
“Astarion? What’s – oh my Gods,” Karlach raises a hand to her mouth, palm covering her lips as she gazes upon the same sight as Astarion. The others join her, and each of them falls silent. “You take … her … and get out of here.”
Shadowheart nods, shooting Orin a sharpened glare before tugging the shapeshifter back down the way that they had come, ignoring her yells of protests and the way that she struggles against the ropes that bind her wrists together. 
With one tug at the already worn-down metal, Karlach disconnects the bars of the cell. She steps inside, carefully approaching you before copying her previous actions and removing the shackles from around your ankles. 
“(Y/N)?” she murmurs down to you, lightly shaking your shoulder while simultaneously trying to be sure that she does not burn you – the last she wants is to add to your injuries. 
She’s pushed aside by Astarion, who kneels beside you and feels his breath hitch at the sight of your paled face. Your cheeks have lost their usual rosy color, replaced instead by a white that looked as though it could rival the color of his hair. 
“Shit,” is the only thing that he’s able to say properly before he scoops you into his arms. He shakes on his feet for a moment, the sudden weight in his arms debilitating his balance. He says nothing as he strides past the others, making a beeline for the exit.
< … >
The first thing that you feel is a dull ache, then followed by a wave of pain that has you shooting upright and promptly vomiting onto whatever surface happens to be beside you. The moment you’ve finished emptying your stomach, a piece of cloth is offered to you by a pale hand – a familiar one this time. 
Hesitantly, you take it, dabbing the cloth against your mouth before looking up to who had handed it to you. 
“Astarion?”
“That would be my name, yes darling,” Astarion responds, though his tone doesn’t hold his usual flirtatious lilt that you had grown so used to. No, he sounds exhausted … it made you wonder just how long he had sat at your bedside. 
Your eyes roam over him, taking note of the tiny, barely-there bags that rest beneath his eyes. For a man who cared so deeply about appearance, he surely looked as though he had let himself go … likely because of you.
As much as you wish to take him into your arms and comfort you, a fleeting thought passes through your mind — he had taken his sweet time in finding you. 
If the roles had been reversed, and it had been Astarion who was taken from you, you already knew that you would have searched Heaven and Earth trying to find him. No stone would have been left unturned, no witness left unspoken to … you would have stopped at nothing. 
But it felt as though Astarion hadn’t cared enough, if he had, you wouldn’t have been as badly wounded as you were. You wouldn’t have laid in that cell for as long as you have, not that you knew the length of time in which you had been missing anyway. 
Astarion’s head lifts at the sound of you rustling, body scooting back from him until your spine rests against the headboard of your bed. You lift your knees to your chest, hugging around them. 
“Darling?”
You remain silent, but you allow your eyes to raise to meet his awaiting gaze. He waits patiently, though you can’t help but feel as though he’s analyzing you.
“How long have I been gone?” you ask. Astarion pauses, scarlet eyes flickering away from you. He swallows, you can see the emotional turmoil that swims in his eyes. Answer me, you usher in your mind. 
“Orin wouldn’t tell us,” Astarion answers honestly, voice wavering as he recounts his angered questioning of the shapeshifter. She had only giggled in his presence and “answered” his question with another question of her own. 
You remain silent, nodding to yourself as you glance down at the bandages that adorn your arms and legs. It makes you wonder if Astarion had patched you himself … or perhaps he had made one of your other companions do it. 
You lift your head, noticing now that Astarion’s attention was focused elsewhere. His expression looks identical to your own — caught in his own mind. Guilt. 
Did he feel guilty?
“Does anything—“ he pauses to clear his throat, “—anything hurt you?”
”Just my arms and legs,” you answer. Astarion nods, inhaling deeply and shifting in his chair. For some twisted reason, you want him to stand up and leave. Maybe it was to further prove your point, or maybe you just wanted to be alone. 
You’d never really know the true answer. 
He hums, nodding to himself before he shifts again. For a fleeting moment, he debates on whether or not he should stand and exit — it was clear that you wanted your space anyway. 
Astarion knew you … and he knew that right now, you certainly didn’t want him around. Never were you short with him, but your tone insinuated that you wanted nothing to do with him. 
Not that he could honestly blame you. 
And so, he stands from his chair. You don’t lift your head to look at him again … telling. 
“Why did you take so long to come for me?”
He freezes, feeling as though someone had doused him in freezing water. His back stands rigid; you could see the way that his spine visibly tenses the moment that his mind processes what it was that you had asked him. 
You snap your jaw shut the moment that the words fall from your lips, regret filling your senses. Sheepishly, you look down, staring at your lap and screwing your eyes shut. 
You freeze at the feeling of arms wrapping over your shoulders, tugging you against a chest that you had spent many nights resting against. His skin felt cold against yours, a welcome contrast to the heat that was currently making you very uncomfortable. 
Astarion’s cheek rests against the side of your head, his hands squeezing at your waist while also being mindful of the injuries that you had sustained. He sighs shakily into your hair, feeling himself relax as he feels you reciprocate his embrace. 
“The moment that I realized that I was not interacting with you, I went out to find you,” Astarion confesses, holding you tighter as he recounts the fear in the moment when he realized that you were not you. 
You remain silent, simply soaking up the comfort that Astarion’s arms provides you with. Your head rests comfortably in the junction that connects his neck and his shoulder, nose buried into his neck. 
“You have … absolutely no idea how frightened I was,” he whispers, his voice so low that it even the rustle of the blankets overpowered his words. His arms shake where they rest around your waist, his fingernails just barely digging into the exposed skin of your waist. “The prospect of losing you–”
“Astarion.”
He pauses, feeling you shift in his arms. Without any word of protest, he releases you, settling onto his knees on the bed in front of you. You adjust yourself, then reach out to take his hands into your own. 
Astarion flinches. You pause, waiting for him to say something to you. He doesn’t, and so you take it as an okay to continue. Your fingers squeeze his own, the action directing his eyes to your own. 
You stay silent for a second or two, simply taking in the way that Astarion’s eyes soften at you. His usually sharp scarlet eyes are glazed over now with a new emotion – guilt. Guilt over not being there for you, guilt over not saving you sooner …
… guilt that you had gotten hurt. 
“Darling, if I had the chance to save you sooner, know that I would have taken it without a second of hesitation,” Astarion admits, shifting an inch closer to you. You feel the tears building along your waterline, your teeth catching your bottom lip as you attempt to suppress the sobs that begin to bubble up somewhere in your chest. 
One of his hands releases yours, hesitantly laying against your face. He thumbs away the tears in your eyes, sighing as you crumple and reach for him again. Astarion doesn’t waste a single second, wrapping you in his arms and resting his chin against the top of your head. 
“I thought that,” you hiccup, “you and the others had forgotten about me.”
His arms tighten around you at that declaration, chest promptly collapsing it on itself as he realizes just how scared you had been. He doesn’t want to imagine what you must have been thinking in that cell, likely thinking about if you would ever be saved.
If he would ever come for you.
“Never,” he whispers into your hair, fingers stroking comforting circles into the small of your back. “I would never forget you, ever.”
“You are the first thing in my entire life that makes me feel … feel something. Something other than burning hatred. You make this wretched world worth living in.”
You squeeze at him, hands bunching up his shirt from behind. He doesn’t bring attention to it, letting you cling to him with as much force as you need. 
“And I’m not going to let you go. Not now, not ever,” he promises you. You close your eyes, sighing shakily through your nose. He can feel your nod against his chest, his cheek leaning further into your hair. 
And that night, when the glistening moon hung over your tent and signaled to your companions that it was time to rest, Astarion remained at your side – fulfilling his promise.
He wasn’t going to let you feel that scared again. Not now, not ever.
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palskippah · 2 days
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Hi! I give you this Stobotnik fankid I made a while ago :'y
She's Sofia --or Ivania or some other name ending in 'ia'-- Robotnik (coolest last name)
It's a compilation and also there's some Stone for practice bc I have no idea how to draw him pipipi Eggman is easier bc it's just his Sonic Boom design (I love it)
Some stuff about this universe under the cut!
(Btw if there's incongruencies is bc I can't make up my mind about the facts whwhw)
-Robotnik and Stone are married, very much married. Cartoon villains in love, I love that for them.
-["MARTHA I'M COMING HOME SWEETIE-"] Mixing up the movie things and the whatever's going on in the Sonic Boom, so Robotnik was gone for eight months and when he's back she's already born.
>Also the drawing is a reference to Icarly's "Whatcha got there?" "A smoothie" but she was clearly asking about the ostrich Spencer brought with him.
>Alternatively, Eggman's there and they go through the journey together yippiee. Choosing names, making evil parenting plans and whatever, being their idiot selves.
(After celebrating because they're good news actually) "I want a boy or a girl-" (Eggman) "Yeah me too." (Stone) "-and we should name them a single, worth of remembering name! Like... Eggette for a girl and Eggson for a boy." "I'm not letting you name them any of that, doctor..." "Okay, then how about Beyonce for a girl and-"
>They wouldn't have kids (?? maybe? I don't really know, I only know sonic boom and the movie :'U)- but she was probably the 1% the birth control warns you about. Also, Stobotnik got a very active seggsual life, and I'm imagining she came to be from a quickie over the desk, why not.
>Helpful diagram of Eggman + Stone kissing and then = baby. They were in work hours.
-In the one where he comes back and the baby's already there, Eggman does a terrible job as a father the few first months, but then he gets the hang of it and it's not so bad.
>He gets projectile vomited on and he's immediately asking to get an abortion (the baby's already born) (he didn't give birth to her), Stone says no anyways.
>"Surprisingly, I'm a good father" he thinks one day and it's because he's still very much an orphan here with no frame of comparation or example aside from researching the matter.
-In the one where they wait for her together, he does all the research necessary in all those months, absolutely refusing in doing an average job in that matter, he's the great Ivo Robotnik c'mon. He excels at anything and he'll be a great father (jk he's terrified of fucking up).
-The Stobotnik family is an evil but loving family, like the bears in Puss in Boots whwh criminal family✨
-For the funny of it, Sonic and Eggman got a sort of relationship like in Sonic Boom, so sometime maybe our favorite boy, Tails and Knuckles had to look after their child.
-Also since Knuckles broke Stone's and Robotnik's hands with their handshake, let's have him handle the baby with the most careful grip ever, just to demonstrate that he didn't have to grab their hands that hard aksdjask
-She's a big fan of Sonic and friends (Sonic the Hedgehog, not Sonic Wachowski, the second guy hadn't done even half the things she admires him for, but no one has the heart to tell her when she's a kid). Has a bunch of merch and all the comics of Sonic the Hedgehog.
>When she's a teenager she proudly uses her Sonic backpack in the same way Deadpool uses his Hello Kitty backpack.
-BTW Sonic, Knuckles and Tails are all brothers and Maddie and Tom's kids bc that's the best idea ever made.
-ALSO I'm definitely gonna draw that scene where Knuckles was about to put the baby in the blender and Sonic shouts THE CHILI DOG NOT THE BABY. Some day, you'll see pipipi.
-SAGE was created for various reasons, to be her sister (since she wouldn't stop asking for one but neither Stone nor Robotnik were willing in raising another human kid, thanks very much), to protect her, and also to answer the tedious "why?" questions that neither father had the patience for (A+ parenting right there). Maybe she was used for the original purpose too idk (I don't know that sonic game where she debuts).
>The child's delighted about having a sister, then she grows up and SAGE doesn't, so she has a little sister.
>METAL SONIC TOO MAYBE? Perfect lil american family, the two happily married parents and their three kids (one human girl, an IA and a robot clone of their alien enemy).
-On her early months she was called Pebble, because she really was a mini Stone, Robotnik went along with it (bc he also looked at her and only saw his husband whw) until she was a little older and they started calling her by her name.
>Alternatively, since Eggman was gone, Stone waited for him to return in hopes of choosing together a name for their child, and Pebble worked as a placeholder since she was just a bebi.
>Alternatively alternatively, Eggman came up with the nickname. ROCK-ONNAISSANCE 🗣️ also yeah I know he was going crazy from the mushroom stuff, but he's not above making silly puns, he's a dad now and also he's naturally silly.
(NGL I really gotta make up my mind about how it all happened ajsdkad)
-She's a spoiled kid and also a little menace, unintentionally evil, she can't help it.
>Good-hearted too sometimes, she loves Sage and does her best to protect her back (it's not necessary but it's appreciated anyways).
-Robotnik calls himself 'daddy' way too much in the live-action movies to ignore it, so he's daddy and Stone's dad (dada when she was younger).
>"These are my daddies!" (points to what's clearly two villains -but also good fathers-)
-She has Robotnik's eyes but as big as Stone's. They're the lethal-est sad puppy eyes ever (they work wonders on both parents and other people) (both men got beautiful dark brown eyes with visible eyelashes fight me).
>Look at Eggman's silly eyelashes:
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>Also, you know that picture of Lee Majdoub with the beautiful everything? I think he was wearing eyeliner so my Stone wears eyeliner too in contrast to Eggman's dark circles under his eyes JDJS😭
-She's the five-year-old that made Sonic fear them because 'they can be so cruel when they sense weakness' (she was brutally honest as any young kid is).
-Stone and Robotnik got Gomez and Morticia Addams kinda parenting. They see their child beating up someone and they're like:
"What did we do wrong?" (Stone while shaking his head in disappointment) "I know... she lacks resourcefulness." (Eggman) "Exactly, there's her baseball bat right there, why doesn't she use it?"
-Remember that Shadow said in a game that he wouldn't mind taking a candy from a baby? (fandub I think but still) This comes in handy when neither Tails, Sonic or Knuckles want to upset the kid (so Shadow does it instead).
-She plays sports too because she got too much energy. In each of them she loses her patience. She grabs the football and hauls it at the nearest team member, she throws her baseball bat to the ground and starts beating up whoever threw the ball that she missed, she stomps in frustration if she loses, she's great at dodgeball (sends her classmates to the infirmary).
-Throws tantrums and stuff and overall's an annoying kid if she's upset. Eggman's like UGH WHY'S SHE LIKE THIS?? and Stone's like Because of you, doctor (terrible temperament runs in the family and also Robotnik just spoiled her too much).
-I'm kinda dressing her up in the clothes that existed in my mind that supposedly Eggman wore (the weird dress-like jacket with the big zipper in the middle). Under her jacket there's a dress in the same pattern as the original Eggman's clothes, also she wears a baby onesie like that too.
-When she's older she's definitely proud of her fathers, but she doesn't appreciate the rumors that she's prone to go power-crazy like Robotnik did. Especially because it may be true, but what do they know.
-For the irony, she can't stand drinking coffee, but loves the smell of it because it reminds her of home (omg).
-THEY HAVE A PET CAT like I read in some fics and her name is Robot and she's a lil shit and also grumpy like Robotnik.
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>Maybe she brings her alive mice to experiment on all sort of stuff (like Pávlov and his dogs and the guy Skinner with his mice and cats (??))
-She gets to hang out with Sonic and friends under the condition of annoying him as much as possible. So, she complies. (She loves Sonic the Hedgehog, but she loves making her fathers happy more).
-Very smart kid but not to the level of Tails or Robotnik at that age, she's just got very good memory and learning skills and knows a lot of stuff ever since she was a little kid. More like a Matilda-kinda intelligence.
-She's a scientist when she grows up too but the kind that makes evil potions and serums and stuff aksjdk probably (chemistry things? biochem idk). She can make silly little robots for the fun of it but it's not her passion, unlike Robotnik and Stone's. PROBABLY. I'm still deciding.
-BTW LOOK (it says 'carefully crafted ploy to distract space porcupines')
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>While Eggman's there with the baby and Sonic in front of him going AWWW BABY BOO and making her laugh, Stone is sneaking up on him holding a chair above his head to knock him out.
THAT'S IT THANKS FOR READING ✨✨
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cripplerage · 2 days
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I'd like to talk about this:
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{Image ID: A cropped screenshot of an online form with a purple background. The question is "What is your gender identity (click all that apply)." The options are "Woman," "Man (disqualify)," "Feminine-Identifying," "Non-Binary," "Transgender," "Unsure," "Prefer not to say," and "Other." The other option has a text box, and they all have unchecked check boxes. End ID.}
This is an application form for an advisory/advocacy group for the intersectionality of woman/female experiences for disabled people. If you somehow figure out WHICH group this is, please do not contact them in any way. I would like to have the opportunity to calmly and politely give my feedback to them, and an accidental harassment campaign would not help. And of course, they're not really doing anything wrong, they're trying their best, etc. my intention with this screenshot is to use it as a learning example.
Here's the thing... They are clearly trying to be inclusive and acknowledging the gender spectrum, but they're acting as if it's a bar that they can just take one half and leave the other. But as a non-binary person who is also sort of a trans-man, who appears fully as a woman and is perceived as a woman by the general public and the healthcare system, this just doesn't seem to work.
For the form I only ticked non-binary, and I listed my pronouns as they/them, when I usually use he/they. And I don't think of this as lying because my gender is a bit fluid, but also I sort of think that it would be my right to lie in this situation because I deserve to participate in this discussion?
I think we as a society seem to forget that most trans men were raised as women, and do have women-aligning experiences. And most of us don't have male privilege, and the few that do have it immediately negated in situations like healthcare. Being transmasc never prevented me from experiencing ableism or medical mysoginy. And I don't know for certain but I imagine some intersex men, even if they're cis, deserve to be part of this conversation, too.
I think what I'm saying applies to more intersectionalities than just disability, but I don't think it's really my place to talk on that. And don't get me wrong, I do think that discussions about feminine intersectionality are important. Here's what it comes down to - I think we need to just let individuals decide for themselves if they are eligible for certain discussions. I don't know for certain what the best way to do this, but I suggest something like the following:
"This group is centred around the experience of intersectionality between femininity and disability. You may be eligible for this group if you are a cis woman, transgender, or intersex."
I'm open to suggestions or feedback on that.
Tl;dr: gender identity and gender experience are different. Someone's gender identity does not necessarily mean that they should be excluded from discussions regarding lived experience of another gender.
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WIBTA For telling my partner I'd like to bring my ex into our relationship?
I'm copying this over from r/relationship_advice, because the responses are giving me the impression they don't really get what polyamory is & I'm hoping tumblr does. For reference: there's me (29M), my ex (28, Trans Man), and my partner (30M).
My ex and I were best friends in high school, went to the same college, & dated through the tail end of undergrad, for about a year and change. We ended things on very good terms, the only reason we broke up was a difference in life paths: I stayed in the city to get my Master's, he traveled constantly for his work (he's a sculptor who makes these huge custom multimedia pieces, they're genuinely some of the most beautiful things I've seen). We fell out of touch for the most part, but I'd see him popping up on social media occasionally, or he'd text me when he was in town and we'd hang out, along with some other school friends.
The last time I saw him before our present situation was about 3 1/2 years ago today. We went out for drinks, he came back to my place after, and we ended up hooking up. He stayed in town for about a week, and we hooked up a few more times, and then he left again. He sort of dropped off the face of the earth after that, but he'd always been pretty sporadic, especially when he had a big project, so I didn't think much about it.
Not long after that, I met my current partner. He's truly one of my favorite people in the whole world; he's incredibly thoughtful, and earnest, and passionate about his morals & principles (he's an environmental lawyer), and more than anything, he's someone I never feel like I have to pretend with. He asked for my number, we had our first date a few days later, and ended up staying awake the entire night just talking about anything and everything, so we went ahead and got 5am pancakes and called it our second date. We've been together for a little over 3 years now, we've been moved in together for about 2, and while we've had the occasional fight or rough patch I can definitely say I love this man, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with him.
So, the big change.
About a year ago (~2 years since seeing my ex, my partner and I have lived together for about a year at this point), my partner and I are having a night in, and there's a knock at the door. It's my ex, looking absolutely ragged, holding a 15 month old baby. As in, a baby who was conceived 24 months before then. Yep, it's pretty much what you're guessing. I let them both in, we had a sit down in the kitchen, and he told me everything he'd been doing in the past 2 years in between me cussing him out for keeping it all from me in the first place. I really do want to keep this as short as possible, so to give you the super condensed version:
She's my daughter, he's completely sure about that, there's no one else he's been with the math is even close to correct for
The second he found out he was pregnant, he more or less panicked. He's got a whole Thing about feeling like he's irresponsible/not a "real" adult, and this really set him off, so telling me felt like "admitting to fucking both our lives up" at the time. His OB/GYN said some pretty awful shit to him about not being more careful as a trans man too, which just made it all even worse
Because of all that, he'd genuinely planned to just never tell me I have a daughter & raise her completely on his own, but a few things compounded to force his hand:
The birth was really rough on him, and his recovery was slow enough he was having trouble going back to work, to the point where money was getting tight
On top of that, our daughter has celiac disease, and between paying out of pocket for blood tests & spending more on baby food she's safe to eat, things got desperate enough he went and took out a really dodgy loan from a scummy payday company
He was at our door because all of this had finally spiraled to a point where he'd lost his apartment, they'd been sleeping in his car for about a week, and he couldn't think of anything else to do
I think I was probably feeling every human emotion in existence at the same time through all of this, but the thing I remember most from the whole conversation was the way my partner kept drifting right back to the baby, and the soft way he looked at her. We put my ex & daughter up in a hotel room for the night and told him we needed to talk, and we'd discuss our options in the morning, but I think even then I kind of knew what our answer was going to be.
Sure enough, for the last year and a half we've been co-parenting our little girl, all three of us. We didn't want to juggle who's got her, or force my ex to find a place to stay, so we've turned my partner's home office into our daughter's room, and redid most of the downstairs layout so my ex could move into an actual bedroom, rather than just sleep on our pullout couch in perpetuity. We finally succeeded in convincing him that rest and recovery was more important than trying to contribute to the house finances right away, and it's been magical watching all that stress and terror slowly fall off him. It's like he's a little more alive again every time I look.
Which is where my question comes in.
I'd like to restate, I love my partner 100%. None of this changes that whatsoever. If I ask, and he says no, that will be the end of the discussion for me completely. But I have eyes. My ex is, objectively, a very attractive man. I know we work well together, and I have to admit I'm very curious to see where that same chemistry could lead now that he's not on the other side of the country half the time. I've also been noticing these little moments between him and my partner. Nothing I'd consider crossing a line, but I've caught my partner checking my ex out several times, as well as vice versa, and they get along remarkably well. Sometimes I'll go to enter a room, and see them both sitting there laughing and chatting and playing with our baby, and I'll just hang back to watch because it makes me so happy.
Add to all that, we're pretty deeply ingrained in each other's lives now. My partner and I don't often go out on dates alone anymore, but the last few times we did it felt as if my ex was missing from the table. We watched a movie together last night, and my ex sat in the middle of us with his feet in my partner's lap and his head on my chest, and it felt just as natural as my arm on my partner's shoulder. It's not about just having sex with him, and it's not that I'd want to invite any old person into our relationship. I know we already all love each other, and I think there's potential for that to become romantic between the two of us and my ex.
It just feels as though we're all holding our breath, waiting for someone else to say it first. My ex certainly isn't going to bring it up when he's living rent free in "our" home (it's his home too, but he doesn't seem to see it like that yet). My partner grew up sheltered enough that I'm not sure he's ever heard of polyamory at all, so he's not going to bring it up. That just leaves me.
My problem is, if I'm wrong about what I think I'm seeing, or if I bring it up the wrong way, I can't take it back. I don't want my partner to feel insecure or betrayed, I don't want my ex to feel pressured or put on the spot, and I definitely don't want my daughter to lose any of us, which I know could happen if we aren't all on the same page. Or worse, if we do all date and it goes badly.
Should I just keep this whole thing secret? Is that even worse? Would I be the asshole for opening this can of worms on everyone else?
Help!
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danveration · 2 days
Note
Could you do a Cooper Howard x reader angst? Something with the reader getting injured or dying and/ or becoming a ghoul?
You and your stories are amazing btw❤️!!!
Thank you!
Parings: Cooper Howard x reader
Summary: You get shot and Cooper comes to your aid.
Word count: 1344
Warnings: Guns, blood, shooting, reader getting shot in the thigh, Cooper being a softy
A/N: sorry if you meant post-nuclear bomb. (if you wanted cooper howard like.. normal human & stuff) ALSO I JUST REALIZED THIS ISN'T VERY ANGSTY 😭😭 FFS. I hope you like it either way :))
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It was a hectic situation. There were at least ten people pointing guns directly at you from all around. This was not how you expected your day to go. You didn’t even do anything remotely wrong. Just stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time. Which was pretty common around here.
You were by yourself right now, which was another downfall. You didn’t have the capabilities yet to kill a bunch of people on your own. Maybe if you sweet talked them..? You doubt that would work. If only Cooper were here. He would have them all dead in a blink of an eye. Especially because they were threatening you. He seemed to have a soft spot for you for whatever reason. You felt the same way towards him. Even though people would look at you like you’re insane, you don’t care. You can see something in him that nobody else can. He always had a bit of a protective nature towards you the moment you two met. You thought he would’ve killed you, but he just laughed at how scared you looked and ensured that he doesn’t kill without a motive. And in his words “won’t dare harm a pretty thing like you.”
He is currently god knows where. You were tagging along with him but he went to go get more vials. He said he knows a spot where he can snag a couple. That was about two hours ago. It would be great if he just miraculously appeared right now.
“L-listen. I don’t want any trouble, okay? I’m just passing through.” You say, trying to sound brave but the whimper in your voice made itself known.
“Yeah, passing through OUR territory.” One of the men said, with a raspy tone.
“I didn’t know! I’ll go. Right now.” You say quickly, starting to move forward.
“Uh-uh!” One of them yelled.
You hear all their guns go off safely and you stop dead in your tracks. The panic and fear you feel makes your skin develop goosebumps.
“We can’t let you go, can we? What kind of example would we be settin’ if we did?” One of them spoke.
“Oh, just walk right into our territory, It’s all good!! It wouldn't be our territory if we did that, would it?” One of them say in a mocking tone.
“P-please. I just-“ You begin to say.
“Now what on hells creation is goin’ on here?” You hear no other than Cooper’s voice in the other direction.
You subconsciously release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
All the people snap their heads to the ghouls voice. Some of them look scared, but some of them look angry that their fun got spoiled.
“Well? Gonna keep gawking or is somebody going to tell me what the fucks goin’ on here?” He says.
“W-well we caught this one roaming on our territory.” One of the people spoke up.
“And?” Cooper questions them, as if daring them to say what they were going to do to you.
They’re all silent. Except for one. He must be new here or something because he speaks up in an angry tone, “and were gonna kill them.” He says, pointing the gun at you. He looks around at all his other gang members, and how they’re not pointing the gun at you anymore.
He raised a brow, “what’s the big idea? Why’s nobody else-“
BANG
Cooper shoots the man in the arm, not letting him finish his sentence.
Everything went slow from there. You see Cooper giving the man cold eyes, and then from your vision, you see the man look down at his arm, then you see him, with his other hand, grab his gun and quickly shoot you in your thigh before Cooper sends another bullet straight through his head, leaving him instantly falling to the ground.
You hiss out in pain and look down, seeing red liquid gush out and stain your pants.
Cooper whips his head towards you.
“Fuckin’-“ He mumbles as he rushes over, getting on his knees in front of you.
Everyone around immediately makes a quick exit, not wanting to suffer the same fate as the other guy.
Cooper would’ve killed them all for that, if it wasn’t for him not wanting to take his eyes or attention off of you. He feels scared, worried, mad, and mostly desperate. Desperate to stop the bleeding, desperate to go back in time and never leave you alone in the first place. He would laugh at himself for feeling these feelings any other time, just not now. Now he has to focus all his attention on you.
“Is it bad?” You mumble out to him, not wanting to fully look at it.
Cooper thankfully notices how it isn’t in a vital place. The bullet went right through, so he doesn’t have to worry about digging it out or it causing complications.
“Well you got shot, sweetheart. It’s bad but it isn’t deadly. You’ll be alright.” He says, trying to ease the worry off of you.
He’s got to get you to a safe spot so he can properly treat the wound. Luckily he has lots of experience with these kinds of situations.
He stands up and leans down, putting his arm behind your knees, lifting you up and carrying you bridal style.
Your eyes go wide and you gasp in shock, but don’t complain. You don’t think you can walk anyhow.
Your cheeks flush and you feel a swell in your heart from his actions. He walks in silence, his brain wracking at how he shouldn’t have left you alone, and how he swears to make sure this won’t happen again. You’re in his arms, hurting, but for some reason you swear it hurts a little less because he’s close to you.
“This won’t never happen again, I swear it. You better be more cautious around these parts though, darlin’. Especially with me not around. People don’t give no mercy.” He says to you.
A little while later, you’re sitting on a mattress in an abandoned building. Your pants are pulled down a bit on one side, so he has access to the wounded leg. Cooper carefully cleaning and wrapping up your wound with a concentrated face. You stare at him and how his eyes look, how his forehead is frowned down in focus, and how his hands are handling you carefully, as if they aren’t used on a daily basis for killing and violence.
“You’re lucky it’s in this spot. A little to the left or right, and you might’ve not been able to use this leg again. Would’ve had to get you those robot leg attachments.” He says, laughing at the end of his sentence.
“You mean the ones that practically rip your leg to shreds? No thanks.” You say, laughing.
You look at him softly as he’s smiling gently, while finishing up wrapping your leg.
“Now would you look at that? All better.” He says, gesturing to your skillfully wrapped leg.
“Thank you, Coop.” You say. “I’m really lucky you came in time.”
“Well, I’d argue I was a tad bit late, but of course, darlin’. I’m glad I got there before things could’ve gotten worse.” He says back to you, adjusting his hat on his head.
He cares about you. It realized that right when he heard that gun shot go in your direction. His heart sank to his stomach immediately, thinking the worse. He’s going to make sure to keep a tight leash on you from now on out. Not in a bad way, just in a way that he’s able to be there if anything happens.
“Thank you, Cooper.” You say softly out of nowhere, looking at him with a bit of blush on your cheeks.
He nods his head in your direction. “You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. Now why don’t you be a doll and rest up. I might’ve wrapped it all neat n’ all, but you’ll still need to let it heal. We can take a couple hours break here."
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flawdchaos · 1 day
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Cheering Logan up after the Miami GP please
my heart broke for logan during the miami gp :( a dnf during his home race is gut wrenching. he deserves a big hug and to catch a break.
“Log?” you spoke, hand raised to knock against his drivers room door. “Logan, honey?” The moment you saw the contact from Magnussen your heart dropped to your stomach. This was supposed to be his race. Given the rough go at the season he had so far you had faith things would be different this go around.
All you could do was shift your weight between feet as you continued to wait for him to open the door. When you finally heard the rustling on the other side, the only thing you could hear was the pounding of your heart. The door cracked opened slowly and a mop of blonde, disheveled hair was the first thing you saw. Sniffles filling the air. You quickly pushed the door open and closed it behind you, the last thing either of you needed was cameras and reporters in your face.
Logan sat on the edge of the small couch with his hands tangled and pulling in his hair. “I’m a fucking idiot. So fucking dumb. I should have seen him, I should have defend-” Before he could continue you were kneeling in front of him, grabbing at his wrists to pull them away from his head.
“Log, look at me for a second.” his eyes glued to the table in front of him. “Logan.” you said firmly, pulling his hands down to rest between your bodies.
“Do not beat yourself up. You have been fucked over one too many times this season and yet, you have persevered and worked your ass off. You are talented and above all, you make me proud. No matter where you are on that damn grid.”
He finally pulled his eyes away and connected his gaze with yours. “Do I really make you proud?” As soon as the words left his mouth you were moving to sit beside him, pulling him into your body to hug him. “Yes, yes you do. So proud.” you murmured, raking your hand through his hair.
“I love it here.” he spoke, words hard to decipher because his face was smushed against your body.
“In Miami? This weather is pretty great, not as rainy and warm. I could get a tan and -” It was his turn to cut you off. “Not Miami, I love being in your arms.”
You knew that he would be beating himself up for days, no matter the circumstance, but you also knew that all you could was hold him and talk him down from the self sabotage.
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beatrice-otter · 2 days
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The President and the Police
It is curious to me that people who are (rightly) outraged at the police being sent against the college protestors and want to reflect that in their voting in the next election are focusing on the office that has zero power over the police, and not the offices that actually control the police. (This is especially aggravating because we've been talking about the police a lot over the last four years, and so if people actually wanted to change things you would think they would have figured out basic things like "who controls the police.")
The President does not and never has controlled the police. Anywhere in the US. Policing is a local matter. The vast majority of law enforcement is done by the city police (employed and governed by the city), county sheriffs and their deputies (employed by the county), and state police (employed and governed by the state). The laws and regulations and policies are made at the local level. So are hiring decisions! If you want to change things--and God knows the police are corrupt and violent and bigoted and awful, and DESPERATELY need to be changed--you can't do it through which presidential candidate you vote for (or don't vote for). You do it by voting for your local elected officials: town mayor and city councilmen (or whatever the exact positions are in your area), your county sheriff, and your state representatives. And then following up by doing things like attending city council meetings and raising the question of police reform--and talking to your neighbors and people in your community and building a coalition of people to work on alternatives to the police and convincing people to try some of them. If you live in a city that has a protest that the cops have been called to, please call your city government and complain. It won't magically change things but it'll be a little bit of pressure in the right direction.
The President does have some control over Federal law enforcement, but that's the FBI, DEA, ICE, and other more specialized groups (like the military police and Fish and Wildlife enforcement officers). And God knows that they could desperately use reform as well! ICE in particular should be abolished. So yeah, your vote for President will affect those organizations. (Trump, of course, loves ICE and wants to expand its powers and reach.)
But if you are rightly concerned by police response to the protests, and want to use your vote to do something about it, you need to be thinking locally.
And good news! Local elections have far fewer people voting in them, so it's actually much easier to affect things at a local level than it is to affect national affairs.
I know this, because I've seen it happen in my community. I am a supporter of an immigrant rights group in my community, and a while back our little local police department hired a guy who had been fired for racism by the biggest city in the region. This is extremely common; most trained and experienced police would much rather work in larger cities which pay better. So a lot of small towns and county sheriff's departments have trouble getting "qualified" people who want to work there, and regularly hire cops who are only willing to move to rural areas because they've been fired for cause and no larger police department will touch them.
But in this specific case, the local immigrant support group was watching, saw he'd been hired, and swung into action. They encouraged their members to call the city council, and go to city council meetings, and write letters to the editor, and after a couple of months of this the city council conceded and got rid of the guy. If you get a group of people together to make a concerted effort, you can make a difference in the policing in your local community.
But the President can't do jack about it. So don't blame him, blame the people who actually hire, train, and write the policies for the police. Who are all local people living in your area!
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suashii · 1 day
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— 𝓁𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 ౨ৎ
suo hayato x reader ノ 957 wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ reader works at a cafe ノ suo is a flirty fella~
my first time writing for the fandom! if u don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all :3
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the bell above the door rings, but you don’t stop wiping down the table or turn around to greet your customer. without seeing him, without hearing him, you already know who it is. no one else would feel so comfortable walking in so near to closing time.
“ah~ i’m not too late, am i?” suo’s voice rings through the air of the cafe, calm and curious. you can hear the soft smile in it.
when you turn around, he’s already made himself comfortable at his regular spot—a stool off the end of the counter where you take orders. the white changshan he dons is pristine and it makes the yellow of his hanging earrings seem even brighter than usual. his head is tilted to the side as he waits for a response or a greeting, 
your eyes flit up to the clock on the wall. “seven minutes later and the door would have been locked.”
“lucky me!” he closes his visible eye and happily waves his hands. it doesn’t seem as though he minds being one of the customers you would usually complain to him about. maybe it’s because he knows you’d make an exception for him—not that you’ve ever told him so, though, he’s claimed on multiple occasions that you’re easy for him to read. perhaps he’s caught on to your thinly veiled fondness of him.
“what kept you?” you ask, lifting up the countertop to step behind it. you toss the rag you had just been using into the sink before turning on the water to wash your hands. your skin prickles as you do so and you know it’s because the man’s auburn gaze is glued to your back. “you’re usually in here a little earlier.”
“something held me up,” he tells you as you dry your hands. you raise your eyebrows in an attempt to prod him for more information. but you’re only met with a smile and the vague addition of, “nothing important.”
you’ve got an idea of what he was up to but, just like suo, you choose not to say it. his unwillingness to share used to come across as secretive but when you began to learn more about him through snippets of the conversations of your regulars, you gained a better understanding of his avoidance of certain topics. that privacy he so often exercises is really a shield to protect you from the not-so-pretty parts of his world.
maybe he truly is the gentleman seemingly everyone regards him as.
you clear your throat in hopes of changing the subject. “anything you’re craving today?”
he hums in thought, tapping his chin as though he’s deeply considering all of his options. you have to bite back a smile because, other than the fact that your selection is incredibly limited due to the time, you and he both know he already has an answer in mind. as if he had just settled on it, suo meets your eye. “have any tea cakes left?”
“they sold out this morning.”
he lets out an exaggerated, disappointed sigh before poking his bottom lip out in a pout. “how unfortunate.”
his theatrical show is enough to make you roll your eyes but it doesn’t stop you from turning around to grab the box you had set aside once you finished baking this morning. in addition to being suo’s favorite, the tea cakes he requested are a best seller at the bakery. you had a feeling they’d be gone before he got the chance to get some for himself. so, you thought ahead and separated a few from the batch just for him.
you carefully slide the box in front of him. “i saved some for you.”
“ i really am lucky.” he smiles, teeth and all. you’ve always thought that it’s a good thing he’s so happy—otherwise, you wouldn’t get to see his smile as often as you do. now that you’ve seen it, you can’t imagine going a day without the sight. soon enough, his teeth are hidden behind lips that curl up at the corners. “you must be an angel put on earth just for me.”
“relax,” you breathe out a nervous laugh, “i wouldn’t go that far.”
his honeyed words leave you feeling a little embarrassed. all you did was set some treats aside for him… so why are the tips of your ears growing warm and your fingers restlessly fiddling with the hem of your apron?
there’s a hint of humor—entertainment, actually—in suo’s voice when he asks, “how much do i owe you?”
you shake your head. “don’t worry about it. it’s on the house.”
“wow, if you’re any nicer to me, i might start thinking you have a crush or something.”
“what?!” you don’t mean to raise your voice but the accusation isn’t something you can glide past so easily. where on earth did he get that idea? does saving a regular one of their favorites equate to having feelings for them all of a sudden? despite the answer, you rush to explain away the misunderstanding. “i don’t! i-i just—it was a slow night so i already counted the register.”
suo nods along to your excuse, but you don’t miss the way his lips quiver as though he’s one second away from bursting out in laughter. it puts a frown on your face. “i’m serious!”
“no, no,” he waves his hands in surrender but his grin doesn’t budge, “i believe you. it’s just that you’re so adamant.”
“because i don’t like you,” you tell him. “not like that.”
he nods again but it’s accompanied by a sigh this time. “well, that’s too bad. if someone as cute as you had a crush on me, i’d be the luckiest guy in the world.”
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thanks for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated if u enjoyed <3
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"I hate how they're writing Damian in Batman #146, he can't be that dumb, he's so ooc."
I mean, they're writing him almost as if he were a literal child who wants, no, needs to believe that his father's ideals aren't as fucked up as his mother's, who blindly believes in the man whom he learnt to trust despite being raised with widely different beliefs and ideals for the majority of his so-far short life.
Almost as if Damian were a pre-teen, or young teen at most (because how old can he be here, 13? 14?) who desperately clings onto the belief, onto the hope that his father hasn't really abandoned him, because his father is Batman, and Batman always has a plan, doesn't he? Obscure, complex, but a plan nonetheless, and it (almost) always turns out fine, so Damian needs to trust him, he knows he can, he knows that Batman is safe.
Logically, everyone else is older; I think the one whose age he's closest to might be Tim here, who's about 18 as usual, I guess. But Damian is a child, he's a child who's overall relatively new to Batman's antics, and he's a child who (unfortunately) rarely saw the difference between Batman and Bruce Wayne, a child who rarely got to meet Bruce Wayne at all, if you think of it.
You (you readers, not the characters in the story - because it makes sense for them to be so lost in the plot of their world that they lose sight of things) cannot blame a child for being delusional for believing with his whole heart that his father is not an evil bastard who's attacking everyone, allies included, family included. Because again, Damian doesn't really have a clear idea of how Batman and Bruce Wayne differ, he rarely got the priviledge to be with his father, Bruce Wayne, and not with his work partner, Batman.
You (readers) cannot really tell me that you're putting the blame on a child for 'snapping out of it' so late.
Of course, everyone is free to have their opinions, and if you think that this version of Damian is ooc or whatever, it's a valid, let's agree to disagree. But from a narrative pov, you can't possibly deny that it makes sense for Damian to be acting like this. He's a child, a literal child.
Expecting him to regulate his emotions as well as his sibs do is messed up. Which, by the way, they don't. Dick is a mess but keeping it together - except for the whole "punching your father senseless" thing, but good for him, I'd have done the same there. Jason is a mess and doesn't try to hide it, Steph is baffled and Babs is exhausted. The others are nowhere to be seen (and I'd have done the same pt2). Tim's the only one with a plan that's actually somewhat good - hope he makes Bruce snap out of his fear-induced little gateaway once and for all.
I know not many are fans of this run, but honestly? I'm digging it, it's possibly one of my faves. I love the drama, love the angst, love the plot-twists, like Damian snapping out of it just for Zur to silence him? Backup Robin who grins suspiciously like Jason? Tim ditching his phone - which is ossibly the most shocking thing? I'm hyped as hell.
All of this endless yapping to say that, okay, feel free to hate this or whatever, but please be humble enough to admit that Damian is being written exactly like he should be. I get it, DCAU gave us "Damian who talks like an old man, who never smiles and doesn't understand his peers" and it's cool. He's a bit like that in the comics too. But newer comics have a (very welcome, imho) tendency to write him as 'awkward' while simultaneously keeping in mind that he's a teen. And it's the best thing ever.
I, for one, needed reassurance at Damian's age. I needed an anchor and that anchor were my parents - growing up, the dynamics shifted but it's not the point. At 13, 14, or whatever Damian's age is, you're just a child who needs reassurance, because you're changing, the world around you is changing, and you're disoriented as if lost at sea. Writing Damian like that makes sense, it's not even up for debate.
He's not ooc, and he's not dumb either.
He's just a child.
Feel free to dislike how they're writing him, feel free to dislike literally every single detail about everything, this is a free world. But please don't tell me that needing a parental figure to be there for you, and that siding with said parental figure no matter what because they're essentially all you got left (rip batfam I guess?) - is ooc for a child. Damian is a child, don't forget that.
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starglitterz · 2 days
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♡ ROMEO & CINDERELLA.
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❝ hey, pretty stranger, i think you look cute! can i get your number? i wanna know you. // cute encounters with genshin guys on the bus.  ❞
✧ feat ; childe, heizou, xiao x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; childe’s can be viewed as platonic ✧ a/n ; so i think the bus at my university is like. a meet-cute spot for me or something HAHAHA here are a couple of drabbles based on my irl experiences <3 ! shout out to my one irl that has to listen to me being delusional all the time LOL ur a real one (she’s never going to see this). also the title has no relation to the fic at all sorry i just could not think of a title for the life of me so i just went with a random vocaloid song JDSJDJS ok bye i hope u enjoy this!!
please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)
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✦ CHILDE. [ tartaglia ]
“childe? is that you?” you grin, leaning over the back of your seat as you realise who’s sitting behind you, “i didn’t know you take the bus back too!” his face cracks into a wide beam upon noticing you, “y/n! hi! i do sometimes when i’m too tired to walk.” and just like that, the two of you start talking excitedly – you’re classmates, though you aren’t too close you both still consider each other friends, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of staring out the window at the rain with your earphones plugged in to pretend you’re in a music video. 
somehow, the conversation turns to birthdays, and as childe asks when yours is, you smirk, “it’s today!” you swear his blue eyes open so big you’re worried they might just tumble out of his head as he gasps, “what?! today?! so you’re turning a year older today?!” “yeah!” you nod, giggling at his exaggerated reaction. “nah, you’ve got to come here so i can wish you properly,” he shakes his head seriously, and you tilt your head in confusion, “there’s someone sitting beside you already though…”
you shouldn’t have doubted the one and only tartaglia for even a moment, because the next second, he turns to the man beside him with zero hesitation and gives them the most blinding persuasive smile ever, “hey! would you mind switching seats with my friend over there? it’s their birthday, and i really want to wish them!” “childe!” you scold, heat rushing to your face at his casual confession to this total stranger, “stop disturbing random people!” “but it’s your birthday!” he replies innocently, ocean eyes gleaming aquamarine. the man beside him seems a little confused by childe’s demeanour, but he’s probably more scared of what his reaction would be if he said no, so he nods, “sure, i guess…” and as the bus rattles along its familiar route, you switch places with the stranger, profuse thanks spilling from your lips before you fix childe with a scolding gaze. 
“hey, it worked!” he raises his hands in surrender, only to quickly grasp yours and shake it heartily, “happy birthday, comrade!” you laugh, shaking your head, “you’re so silly. thank you, childe.” you both hide your chuckles as you joke about the poor guy that had to switch with you, and you tease and banter with each other all the way to the train station.
✦ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. [ analytical harmony ]
it has been a long day. not necessarily bad, but one of those days where the universe seems to be conspiring against you to make every small thing go wrong enough to get on your nerves. right now, you’re at your wits end as you stumble onto the bus, sending the bus driver a sheepish smile when your card only buzzes on the third tap. your eyes scan the interior – almost all of the seats are occupied, and your friend has skipped ahead to sit with someone else she knows. 
but your gaze stops short on a maroon-haired guy looking out the window, and with an internal cheer you realise that the seat next to him is empty and quickly slide into it. now that you’re closer, you notice that he’s actually quite handsome; all fluffy maroon hair and forest green eyes with a few moles dotted across his pale skin. you’re so busy staring that you don’t realise he’s trying to tell you something until he clears his throat. “y-yeah?!” you stutter in surprise at his sudden attempt at conversation. that was a dumb reply. now you’re staring at him with wide eyes as he softly asks, “um, is that your wallet?”
you look at the floor where he’s pointing, only to realise with horror: that is your wallet! “oh… hahaha, that is mine. thank you,” you’re ninety percent sure you are giving off the worst first impression of all time with your stupid responses. it’s almost like you’ve never spoken to another human being in your life. and what’s with your outfit?! of course the one day you don’t dress up is the day you end up sitting next to the world’s cutest stranger. as you bend down to pick up your wallet, you silently curse your unlucky stars. you dropped your purse in front of a cute guy! can this day get any worse?! 
famous last words.
because two seconds later, you’re trying to sit up straight again, and you hit your head on the hard back of the seat in front of yours. even worse, you groan loudly, “ow!” “holy archons… are you okay?” the stranger beside you gasps, although as you rub your head and look at them, it’s pretty obvious that they’re trying to hold back laughter. you’re torn between laughing or crying your eyes out, but the humour of the absolutely idiotic situation you’re in kicks in and you end up giggling even as you’re wincing in pain, “i’m fine, thank you… i promise i’m not usually this clumsy.” “really?” he quirks an eyebrow with a teasing smile, “could’ve fooled me.” “hey!” you pout, folding your arms across your chest in playful offence, “i know i might have just made the worst first impression ever, but i swear i’m a lot cooler!” “i’ll be the judge of that,” his gaze softens and he tilts his head, “i’m heizou, by the way.” “i’m y/n! let’s restart this whole thing – it’s nice to meet you!”
luckily for you, the bus is stuck in traffic, and the two of you end up talking about everything under the sun on the long journey to the train station. you aren’t certain if he’s convinced that you’re cool yet, but you’ll definitely keep working on it – even if it’s only to see the way his cute dimples appear whenever his features crease into a smile at your jokes. 
✦ XIAO. [ vigilant yaksha ]
it’s been a tiring day of an exhausting course. but at the very least, you’ve got your new friend to complain to as the two of you wait for the bus. “you know, i was so glad you asked me to join your group!” you grin at xiao, adjusting your tote bag. “it’s no big deal… you were alone, so i thought you could join us,” he gives you a soft smile, jade streaks of hair framing his face as they peek out from under his dark cap. “yeah, but still! it’s so difficult to make friends when the classes are so huge, so it was really nice of you.” “that’s true. you’re the first person i’m talking to outside class,” he nods in agreement. his casual statement makes you remember that you’re a professional yapper and you panic, “oh! by the way, if i’m talking too much, just tell me to shut up! i talk a lot, so that’s totally fine.” he chuckles, and his response makes a happy smile grace your lips, “no, it’s okay. i prefer listening, so it’s fine if you talk a lot.” so talk is what you do until the bus finally rumbles into the bus stop. 
the constant bumping of the bus on the rough roads combined with the soothing noise of the rain tapping against the window makes you drowsy, and you turn to xiao, “if i fall asleep before we reach the train station, you better wake me up, okay? don’t abandon me on the bus and just go home!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a teasing smile, “no promises.” but when he sees your distraught expression, he reassures you, “just kidding. i’ll wake you up.” “okay…” you mumble a response, and within a few seconds, you’re asleep, head lolling forward as the bus continues along. you don’t usually fall asleep on public transport, far too worried that you’ll miss your stop and end up on the other end of teyvat, but with xiao beside you, you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?
you’re in the middle of a very nice dream when you hear xiao’s soft voice calling you, “y/n?” and his tone is so gentle, like he didn’t want to startle you, that it almost makes your heart beat right out of your chest. you stretch a little, eyes flickering open before sliding shut again, “mmm…” “we’re almost there,” he murmurs. and there it is again, that soft, gentle voice that you swear sounds like honey. you’re almost going to pass out, and definitely not from sleepiness. “okay… i’m awake.” you manage a smile, and he tilts his head almost worriedly, “don’t fall asleep on the train.” “i won’t!” you grin widely as you hop off the bus, hoping that shows how you’re 100% awake right now, and he smiles, “okay then, i’ll see you tomorrow.” 
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bahaha these are very messy but i just needed to get these out of my system before i went insane i think i should take the bus more often 😋 also yes these are all 100% experienced by yours truly and have not even been exaggerated for the sake of this fic // general masterlist
© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way - reblog and leave comments if you enjoyed !
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mightymizora · 2 days
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Feel free to ignore but: do you feel that gortash is - I guess the word I'd use is "good" - at sex? By whatever metric you'd judge that?
Hey anon I LOVE THIS QUESTION and I can't be normal about it!
So I have to dive into it a bit into sections because there's a lot going on here for me and obviously the caveat here is this is my opinion, this is my opinion from inferences from the text, this is my opinion.
So in order to do this we need to cover a few sections: sexual education, sexual agency, sex as tool and sex as desire.
All of this is going under the cut for discussions of childhood abuse, canon inferences, decisions he makes in game, and some headcanons around agency and dub/non-con that readers may find uncomfortable.
so, let's start at the very beginning with:
Sexual Education
There are two things we know about young Enver Flymm. One is that he was raised in a small cobblers workshop where he shared a single room with his parents. The other is that at some point, he was taken to the literal hells where he suffered an incredibly physically abusive situation.
We don't know for sure the exact age he was taken, but I think it's easy to infer that he was prepubescent when he was taken from the way he is spoken about as a snot, a boy etc. by Nubaldin. Even if he was a little older, it's safe to infer that he didn't have a particularly healthy environment to learn about sex and sexuality either at home or in literal hell.
If we assume Enver was in hell, we know that the sex he would have potential been aware of was largely non-consensual. There's references all over the place about his fellow detainee Hope being sexually and physically assaulted as well as psychologically manipulated. We don't know with Enver if he ages in the hells (I assume he does, and that it is only those who sell their souls and end up there after death that do not age) but if he does, he goes from childhood to early adulthood, ten years, in this space (mirrored in Karlach spending ten years there as well, interestingly.)
We also don't actually know how he escaped the hells, and it is a niche headcanon (which I have also put into my works) that he as a young adult learned about sex and traded with Haarlep to find his route out (in my stories, this directly feeds into Mephistopheles being interested in the potential of this boy, and letting him steal the crown.) There's no text basis for this, it just neatly ties up some thematic threads and I think can be put aside and it still doesn't change the core that:
Enver Gortash had no way of having a healthy understanding of sex as a teenager. There isn't really any way that he could have! Either he's living in a one-bed apartment with abusive parents who hate his existence, or he's learning from Raphael's example in literal hell.
Sexual Agency
This is where a lot of people feel differently, but again, we can look at things as they are and then make some inferences.
Enver Gortash does not have a named spouse, or any named mistresses/side pieces/conquests. Anything. There is no evidence of anything (we will come to Durge later.) Compare this to Sarevok, who has two named partners and is inferred to have had others, and it is an interesting choice to have zero ties. It's particularly interesting because as a Lord, he would be expected to be thinking of siring a house, and as a man in power, the narrative expectation would be to find evidence of sex as a benefit of his position. We don't see any evidence of that.
There is a read that many, including me, bring to the fondness that The Dark Urge and Gortash have for each other, but again, there is no evidence that this is sexual or if it is, that it was ever something than a mutual pining. That's the joy of fanworks, you can grow on what's there, but it's not explicit that it's anything more than mutual admiration.
So for me? I think that there is significant evidence that he doesn't prioritise sexual attraction and fulfilment over other areas of reward.
Sex as a Tool
What we do know though is that he has used his body to get things he wants. The Jannath letter, which I love, makes it clear that he had sex with her for financial favours and clout, and that she indulged him in this. He's also more than happy to trade on his image in every way he can. I think it's easy to infer from this that he is, at least in one setting, able to give people what they want out of sex. Whether that means he's technically good OR he's good at constructing and fulfilling the fantasy, I think that's up to interpretation, but I think he knows what to do when it is a performance, and if there's something he can tangibly get out of it like money, power, the ability to blackmail somebody later, then that is the element that is getting him off, not the sex itself. Sex for gain is just another part of his arsenal, to be refined and researched like anything else, and picked up and put down as useful to him.
Sex as Desire
And this is --and it is completely up to interpretation here, I'm just rolling with the other things I see -- where it can potentially all fall apart for Gortash. If he actually likes somebody, if there is a desire or an affection or anything like that, and if he is able to even feel emotions like that, what does he do with them? It's not useful, it's not contained, it's not part of the punishment he learned in the hells or the seduction he learned in the patriars. If he does find himself genuinely fond of another person, how can that fit in his ideas of sex? Personally, I don't think it can do, and there's lots of ways to play with that. In my own stories, the sexual contact he has with Manva is brief, quite one-sided, and quite regressive. He is no charming seducer, but instead taken back to something much simpler that he likely didn't have space for when he was young. He has other encounters where he can't get it up, or can't climax, because the circumstances aren't quite right, the promise of power is not enough, or the partner is too willing (not like he has learned of in the hells at all.)
I think personally that if he does seek out recreational sex, then it is primarily going to be motivated by power play. And I don't think this is well negotiated kink territory. He plays with the player character constantly, testing them, destroying their reputation in the press quest, always vying for more power even when you are apparently allies. This is a man who always, always needs to know he can change the tide.
I think of the woman whose voice was used in the necrotic laboratory, who was stolen away with a promise of a better life. I think of Fariza Linnacker. There's no evidence either were sexual, but we do know that he took great pleasure in manipulating and destroying their lives.
Gortash has so much going on around sex as a tool, as a weapon even, that when it comes to a genuine connection, there's every possibility that he cannot perform at all.
And would that make him embarrassed? Angry? Would he blame? Lash out? Would he seek out professionals to replay old traumas as a "safe space"? Would he avoid all intimacy because he sees it as weak and disgusting? I think there's a lot of scope within this.
So the short version is... I think he's able to be good at sex when it's FOR something. But I don't know if he's even interested when it's not, and if he is, I think he has a long way to go to actively want to seek it out. And is he good in the way that it is connected, intimate? Probably not.
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beenbaanbuun · 3 days
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lord huron songs w/ateez
so listen…. i know i said nothing for a few days but sometimes your brain just thinks if something and then you have to do it because if you don’t you’ll forget about it!! anyway… i love lord huron so…
kim hongjoong - louisa
“i’m glad i met you,” hongjoong whispers to you one night as the two of you lie side by side on the hood of his car. whilst you lie watching the stars, distracted by the way the twinkle, hongjoong keeps his gaze firmly on you. the way the moonlight hits your skin has his heart beating at an unnatural rate; if he were to sit here and stare at you for much longer, he doesn’t doubt it would explode in his chest.
“yeah?” you murmur, voice sounding like a wind chime, bringing music and joy to his otherwise stormy life. he sighs, basking in the gentle sound for just a moment. “i’m glad i met you too,” you hum. hongjoong just shakes his head.
you’ll never know how he feels about you because you have a life outside of him. you have brightness and purpose; a job that you love and friends that care for you. you have happiness and passion; he has you and that’s all. monotony and routine take up his day to day, his simple nine to five slowly taking his resolve to pieces bit by bit. ‘good for nothing’ is how he sees himself and that’s how he’ll be remembered. he can only be glad that he met you when he did because now when he passes on in 60 years instead of just soon, loving husband will lie on his gravestone too.
he smiles at you brightly at the thought of you taking him by the hand and pulling him from the grave that he’s already dug for himself. your sweet words and gentle kisses helped him fill in the hole and pat the dirt back down. your tenderness and love spread the seeds and helped the grass grow back over the disturbed ground. it didn’t take long for that grave to become a thing of the past; a well kept secret that hongjoong would never share with another living soul.
he may have died, but your loving raised him.
park seonghwa - la belle fleur sauvage
the beat-up truck that sits outside of seonghwa’s stuffy office block sticks out like a sore thumb, the woman inside of it drawing the attention of each passer by. you don’t belong there, but perhaps that’s why people like to stop and stare. with beauty unmatched and a personality that even the strongest man couldn’t tame, you were nothing more than a fantasy to most of them. not to him, though. not to seonghwa.
he shrugs his suit jacket off and tosses it into the backseat through the open window. it’s lands with a thud, the expensive fabric all crumpled and disheveled. a year ago, the idea of treating his possessions so carelessly would’ve killed him, but as he crawls into the passenger seat, all he can think about is the woman sitting prettily behind the wheel.
“you know, you really don’t have to pick me up from work,” he chuckles as the door shuts behind him. “i appreciate the gesture, my little wildflower, but it’s a little far out of your way, isn’t it?”
you shrug as you start up the ignition, the rattly engine roaring to life.
“when has something being out of reach ever stopped me?” you muse, shifting the truck into gear, “you should know by now that it’ll take a lot more than a little car journey to keep me away from what i want.”
“am i what you want?” he teases, voice lilting prettily as he watches you try to hide your smile. he knows that if you didn’t have to keep your eyes on the road, you’d be sending him a look sharp enough to kill. though, even with that wildness in your eyes, seonghwa can’t think of a more beautiful person on this earth.
jeong yunho - fool for love
there’s a knock at your door, three loud thuds and then silence. a brief look towards the clock tells you that it’s late, but you can’t find it in you to worry. the danger of whoever is behind your door seems to be outweighed by your curiosity; who could possibly be coming to see you at such an hour? you shuffle to the door with determination, pyjama pants dragging along your floorboards as you search for the answer to your question.
your hand finds the doorknob, tugging at it lightly until the door swings open, a dear friend of yours waiting behind it. with a grin on your face, you go to greet him, but before a single word can slip from your tongue, his lips press against yours. it takes you by surprise, and yet somehow you don’t mind it; all it takes is a second or two until you’re kissing him back.
and then he pulls back, chest heaving with each death breath he pulls through his swollen lips. you brush a thumb against them, wiping away your spit.
“i’m leaving,” he says, as if that explains everything, “i’m skipping town and i… i need you with me… please.”
it’s not hard for you to pack your bags. in fact you’d say it’s rather easy. perhaps too much so to say that you’re saying goodbye to everything you’ve ever known. and as yunho loads your belongings into the back seat of his car, you can’t help but smile as you lock your door for the final time.
kang yeosang - until the night turns
you wake up from a dreamless slumber to your boyfriend staring down at you, tears in the corners of his eyes and a rattled expression painted over his pretty features. you frown at him, wearily lifting a hand to wipe away the droplets that had begin to make a path down the side of his face. in your hazy state, there’s not much more you can convince yourself to do; you hope that your wordless comfort is enough to settle him a little.
“i had a bad dream,” he explains, deep voice wavering like a scared child, “the world was ending and i just,” he cuts himself off with a sigh, “it sounds silly but i wanted to spend my last few hours with you.”
you can’t help but give him an amused smile. only he would let such a silly dream get to him this much, your sweet boy. it’s clear he needs comfort, and even with your brain only working at half the speed it should, you’re quick to tug him close and wrap him up in your arms; if it’s comfort he wants, then it’s comfort he’ll get. your lips find his temple.
“we can stay awake until the sun rises,” you offer, voice gravelly with sleep. he hums in appreciation as he huddles in closer.
“but what if the world does end?” his voice is pitiful and weak. you give him one long squeeze with your arms.
“then at least we’ll be together when it does.”
choi san - the man who lives forever
“you know how people say that no one wants to live forever?” san murmurs to you one morning. the two of you have yet to move from his bed, despite the clock on the nightstand letting you know that moon is rapidly approaching. the alarm has rang through the room at least thrice, and yet neither of you have dared to slip from the other’s arms. perhaps its what you both need, a full day of nothing, drowning in one another’s love. “i think i’d want to if you were with me.”
the words make you lift your gaze, your head that rests on his bare chest pivoting until you can see his face. it’s set in stone, expression deadly serious as he declares his intentions to live forever with you by his side. a petite grin finds its way to your lips.
“oh yeah?” you taunt, “and why is that?”
a large hand finds its way to the top of your head, gentle fingers caressing your hair as the man they belong to mulls over his thoughts. his expression twists thoughtfully as he pieces together what he wants to say. he’s handsome like this, not that he isn’t all the time. its just that the way his nose scrunches and his lips purse make you realise just how cute he is. you could fall in love with him all over again.
“because i think i could live in this moment with you until the day i die, and i’d still think it was too short,” his nails scrape against your scalp in a way that makes you instantly relax. you curl up into his body with a hum. “i want to have you in my arms until the sun explodes and takes us with it, and i’m not even sure that’ll be long enough.”
song mingi - moonbeam
“i had a dream about you last night,” mingi hums as you pass him a bowl of popcorn in preparation for your bi-monthly movie marathon. you toss yourself down onto the couch beside him, leaning in close as you grab a fist-full of popcorn and begin to slowly feed yourself. he takes your silence as a gesture for him to continue, popping a piece of the snack between his lips first. “yeah, it started off as a nightmare and then you came along and made it all better.”
you snort at the idea of saving your best friend from whatever demons choose to haunt his nights. you can’t imagine it’s anything too frightening; the big baby gets intimidated by the smallest of things. it really wouldn’t take much for you to be his night in shining armour.
“and how did i make everything better?” your voice is teasing as it comes out, but you genuinely are curious about the answer. you let your gaze meet his, taking no notice of how close his face is to yours. if you thought about it for more than a millisecond, you might have registered the way you can feel his warm breath against your face, or the way his pupils keep flicking between looking you in the eye and looking down at your pink lips.
“you kissed me,” he whispers, and despite your proximity, you barely hear it. “and suddenly everything was okay. all my bad thoughts were gone and it was just… you.”
you look at him with wide eyes, unsure of what to say to his confession. of course, it’s a shock to hear something like that from your best friend, but that’s not to say it’s unwelcome. he chuckles lowly at the way you stare at him.
“oh, don’t look at me like that,” he inches even closer, lips barely grazing against your own, “you can’t tell me you can’t see how much i want to love you.”
jung wooyoung - cursed
wooyoung moans into the kiss that you press against his mouth. hot and mouth wateringly delicious, he can’t seem to get enough of the way your lips feel against him. it’s like you’ve laced your lipgloss with cocaine or something because at this point, it’s an addiction, and try as he might, he can’t seem to kick it.
at this point, he isn’t even sure he wants to.
“holy fuck,” he mumbles against you, opening his eyes for just a brief moment so he can take you in in all your glory. puffy wet lips, swollen from all the lust and passion wooyoung had put into the kiss. a pretty pink tongue darts out to lap at the layer of his spit that glazes them, and he feels his brain go foggy. “i think you’ve cast a spell on me or something, baby. it’s the only reasonable explanation for why i’m so fucking obsessed with you.”
his lips find yours once more, tongue intertwining easily with yours. they play with one another for a short while before he lets you take over, relaxing his jaw a little to let you lazily lick into his mouth. something about you taking him up on his offer of control has him groaning into your mouth. you’re so adorable, even when you’re in charge.
“i’ve not done anything,” you whisper against his open mouth, pulling away ever so slightly to catch your breath, “it’s hardly my fault you took one at me and decided to make it your life’s mission to worship me.”
“shut up, brat,” he chuckles against you, chasing your lips with his own, “i wouldn’t feel the need to worship you if you hadn’t laid some sort of curse on me.”
choi jongho - mine forever
“if you never want to see my face again, i’ll understand,” the weak voice warbles from the other side of your door. it hurts to listen to after the fight you had last night, the wounds still fresh and aching. it’s even worse to listen to when you know your boyfriend doesn’t so easily cry, and yet here he is, sobbing on your doorstep. you swallow the lump in your throat, wiping your own tears away in a desperate attempt to pull yourself together. “just please, give me closure so i know how you feel.”
if you weren’t so upset, the situation would’ve probably made you laugh. it had been less than 24 hours since you walked out of his apartment and walked it back to yours, and yet the poor boy was acting like you’d left him with nothing for weeks. even despite the pain that swims through your veins, you can’t help but find his dramatics adorable, and you find a small smile gracing your lips as you finally move to unlock the door.
he looks a state, red, puffy eyes, hair matted and stuck to his forehead, lips chapped and bloody. you want to hold him in your arms, comfort him through his suffering. then you remember he caused this suffering himself, as well as all the pain that resides in your own chest. you fold your arms in front of you.
“you look like shit,” are the first words to leave your lips. he just stares at you blankly.
“i can’t sleep without you,” is all he says in response.
“you mean you haven’t slept since last night?” he shakes his head, and you feel your heart crack just a little. so much for pulling yourself together.
“i can’t live without you, baby,” he whispers as you invite him into your arms, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, “and i’m too young to die.”
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atw2006 · 2 days
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I am fancinated by the people who responded to Misha calling the network that made Supernatural (CW) homophobic by basically being like why did he work at a homophobic network then. It's a small segment of fans, but I just can't wrap my head around the sort of geographical and chronological and economic privilege that implies they've just always been able to walk away from any group, or job they didn't morally agree with.
Not only that, but the "why" he did it is so obvious to me. It's similar to the reasons why I get out of bed in a broken world every day. He worked at that homophobic company to make it less homophobic. So the queer writers would feel safer coming to work, with a good chunk of the homophobia aimed at him, the ally, instead of them. So he could have a 50% success rate at helping his costars unlearn the homophobia they were raised in. So he cold post "You're not crazy" on Twitter when fans were being gaslight by creators about whether things had been on purpose. So he (and others in cohots with him) could literally sneak a queer love confession of his character past the network sensors. So when the network tried to make him take that queer confession back he could say, "I'm supposed to say you interpret it anyway you want, but I as the actor who did the scene think it's a homosexual declaration of love." So when they tried to stop someone at cons from asking a question about the cannon queer character he intervened saying, "No. I want to hear her question. Let her ask it." So, he could call the network homophobic 20 years later and get in trouble for it too.
He stayed with the homophobic network, because when Supernatural started only 1% of people on tv were queer and now we're up to 11% which is much closer to in line with the population. He was a small part of that change. Almost all change happens by fighting within the system, and it absolutely alarms me that some people fear tainting their moral purity by association so much that they are going to take themselves out of the fight all together. A lot of us don't have a choice but to live within the broken system, but I'd do it either way, because I think looking bigotry in the face and demanding change is where the real morality lies.
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hellaarknight · 1 day
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Nothing can change the way I see you
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**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚* ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚* ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙
Pairing: Chuuya x femreader Warnings: pet names, mental and physical struggles, being pregnant, a bit oc (a bit more actually) Genre: Fluf/Comfort
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚* ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚* ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙
Chuuya never thought about seriously having children. Yeah, sure, he did find the idea entertaining, but he could not see himself as a father. Firstly because of his job and the dangers it entails, and secondly because he was afraid of being a shitty father. Probably many other reasons, but these two were enough to engrave in his mind that he would never be a father. And honestly, all was working out when he met you, his now wife, and a person who also did not want kids. So when you presented him with a pregnancy test he was conflicted. Scared. And so were you.
Despite these feelings, he hugged you and reassured you that you would figure it out together. He wiped away your tears when one day you confessed you were afraid his feelings would change with this pregnancy. „Doll... There is no way in hell that my feelings for you will ever change” „But...but... You say that now, but when I will have a belly and stretchmarks and I will be in pain, you will be repulsed by me” His hands cupped your face and he put his forehead onto yours. „Never. There is nothing in this world that could happen to make me lose my feelings. Nothi'g, pretty. You are my everything and despite you not wanting children, you chose to go forward with the pregnancy and gift me a kid. Baby doll, I'm staying by your side every step of this life.”
Unfortunately, no matter how much Chuuya was trying to convince you about his intentions, the story of your work colleagues and some friends did nothing but aggravate a feeling of dread for the pregnancy, birth experience, and whatever would happen afterward. Partners lose interest in their wives, not being attracted by them anymore, being repulsed because they saw the birth of their kids, and not wanting to engage in intimacy anymore, abandoning their spouse to all the chores of the house, minimizing the struggle of a new mom. And these were just some examples of what was told to you and what you read online. But Chuuya... Chuuya wouldn't do something like this, right? Chuuya was unaware of your internal struggles as he worked his but off in the Mafia so he could take more months off to be by your side in this process. It wasn't about the money, he had plenty, but about gaining more time from his life as an executive. Chuuya read a lot about pregnancy, side effects, and everything that had to do with the struggles of becoming a mom. He swore he would try to be as supportive as ever for you and the best dad he could ever be. When the hormones hit you like a brick, having you going from one emotional state to another, he wouldn't get angry once. Instead, he navigated through your mood changes the best he could. Was he going crazy? Yes, absolutely. But never once has he got mad at you. Not once has he raised his voice or made you feel bad about your own outburst, for your tears for your pitiful sight. „Baby, I'm not mad at you.” His voice soft, his hand holding yours while you tried to avoid his gaze. „Yes...hic... you are... I'm a terrible wife... I forgot, I'm sorry, I forgot to pack your lunch and now you're mad”. „No, baby, no, I am not mad, I ate plenty and you are not a terrible wife. You shouldn't even bother to think about doing things for me in this period, ok? You should rest as much as possible. Since the pregnancy is one with risks, you need to focus only on yourself, ok love?”
When you started having morning sickness and emptying your stomach almost every morning, he was there by your side if he was home, holding your hair up and rubbing your back. It pained him to see you vomiting so often, barely eating anything because everything made you nauseous. When in those moments you found yourself disgusting, he found you the most beautiful and amazing woman in the world. You kept pushing through. You kept drinking your prenatal vitamins to have a healthy baby and tried to have a variate diet, even tho you could barely tolerate food. In his eyes, you were shining, glowing, and wiping your mouth after one nauseous episode was the least he could do for you. „Chuu... I'm disgusting, how can you stay here?” Laying with your face near the toilet, tired, as you emptied your stomach for the fourth time today. „Stop talking like this about yourself, honey. It is something natural that happens and there is nothing to be disgusted of. C'me here, let me clean you up and I'll carry you to bed, you should sleep, you're barely getting around. And I'll have something else cooked when you wake up and you'll try again to eat, 'key baby?”
Chuuya was sure, there was nothing in this world, nothing that this pregnancy could bring that would make him look at you with less adoration. His feelings only grew bigger, if possible, he found you more and more charming every day, every day that belly grew and you faced another struggle in the process.
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tofixtheshadows · 5 hours
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This is one of my favorite minor details in Dungeon Meshi, firstly because what in the femme fatale, but also because it's one of those little things that raises so many questions about worldbuilding.
The Occam's Razor defense attorney in me says that Ryoko Kui gave Kabru a boot knife because she wanted him to escape from his bonds here. And Kabru is a very competent swordsman, why wouldn't he have a boot knife, sure. He's already got a dagger, he can have this too.
And yet: the implications. Kabru, why do you have that? That is not remotely something that could be easily accessed or used in combat. Nobody is pulling out a pen knife from the heel of their boot during a fight with a monster. It's useless in the dungeon ... unless you're the type of person who isn't just worried about monsters.
I've mentioned this before, but I consider one of Kabru's functions in the narrative as being the character who fully brings the idea of human ecosystems into the story. There's a reason why he's always connected to large groups of people (Toshiro's party, the Canaries). He (along with Mr. Tansu, briefly) introduces the reader to the social and political forces working on the dungeon, showing us that none of this is happening in a monster-filled vacuum. His confrontation with the corpse retrievers, who very nearly kill Kabru's party permanently with their reckless murder-for-money scheme, reminds us that monsters are not the only things that prey on humans. Kabru understands the ways the dungeon causes people to put profit over human lives.
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We only get hints of it in the story, but like any gold-rush-style economic boom, it's implied that there is a lot of crime and corruption surrounding the dungeon.
So yeah, it really makes me wonder why Kabru keeps a tiny knife in his boot, meant to be carried on him even in situations where he would otherwise be unarmed. Stored exactly in the place where it's easy to reach, even if, for some reason, your hands are tied behind your back.
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