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#i feel a little bit bad for posting things twice sometimes? hopefully it’s not too annoying haha
time-slink · 2 years
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ended up coloring that sketch from the other day,, mr grian of the double life variety
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moonhoures · 6 months
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Play Thing
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🕷️ kinktober — day 13: degradation 🕸️
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pairing: mina (twice) + reader (g/n)
genre: non-idol!au, smut
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, d/s dynamic, mean dom!reader, sub!mina, brat!mina, thigh riding, degradation, reader calls mina ‘baby’, ‘play thing’, ‘toy’, ‘slut’, ‘needy’, ‘bitch’, & ‘stupid’
word count: ~1.4k
synopsis: your bratty gf just won’t leave you be, so you give her the attention she so badly craves
a/n: happy friday the 13th 😈👻
posted: october 13, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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Your girlfriend was many things, but towards the top of the long list of her descriptors was “clingy”. For the most part, she tried her best to give you your space and alone time, but she would sometimes get in moods where she wanted to be around you all the time. She would follow you around your house like a puppy, or plop herself right next to you or in your lap while you were watching TV, reading, playing games, etc. She would nag or sigh or make comments until you would give in and ask what she wanted. It was like this every time, even today.
You were sitting on the couch, one of your comfort shows pulled up on the TV in front of you while you scrolled on your phone. Mina sauntered in from the bedroom, presumably bored of the movie she had just finished watching in there. She unceremoniously sat beside you, taking mere seconds before she was cuddling up to your side. Her cheek rested against your arm as she asked what you were doing.
“Baking a cake,” you replied sarcastically, enjoying the way she rolled her eyes.
“You’re not even watching the show you put on,” she pointed out, “Can I change it?”
“No, I like having it on,” you pouted, then added, “You had the TV in the room to yourself. Why are you coming in here trying to take this one from me?”
“I’m just bored, and I wanted to hang out with you.”
“Then sit and watch this show.”
Mina liked when you talked like that to her. Sternly. And she knew you knew. She wondered how much she could push your buttons until you snapped. Hopefully, not too long, she thought.
“But I don’t like this show.”
“Stop whining,” you glanced at her, giving her a pointed look that only sent arousal between her legs, “Or I’ll banish you back to the bedroom.”
“Promise?” she taunted you, a playful smile on her lips.
“Mina-“
“________,” she mocked your strict tone.
“You must want to be punished.”
“Maybe,” she sing-songed, batting her eyelashes at you cutely.
You shook your head lightly before adjusting your legs on the couch from their crossed position, “Fine, take off your shorts.”
Her eyes lit up as the realization hit that her plan worked, rather quickly at that. She quickly got up, slipping her shorts off, revealing her naked figure underneath. You did the same, tossing your own pants on top of her discarded ones on the floor. You patted your thigh, gesturing for her to mount it, but this made her frown.
“You’re not going to fuck me?” she asked with a sullen tone. Perhaps her plan wasn’t working as well as she thought.
“Nope. You want to cum so bad, you can do it on my thigh or not at all,” you were very clear with your words, so she knew you wouldn’t budge even a little bit. She accepted the cards she was dealt, and unenthusiastically climbed onto your thigh, straddling it. You could feel her arousal on your skin.
“Wet already? You must’ve been thinking about this,” you said, hand gently kneading the flesh of her thigh. It was the only contact you were giving her besides your thigh, so you could tell she was feeling unsatisfied so far. Good.
Mina nodded, “Was thinking about your tongue and your fingers.”
“Of course you were, you’re so fucking needy.”
The faintest moan erupted from her throat, but you caught it.
“Aren’t you?” you taunted her now, your hand rubbing higher up by her hips, “My needy little baby.”
“Can I move yet?” she was practically begging. You wanted to tell her no, just to watch her suffer. But she was so cute like this, pouting and staring at you with those boba-like eyes of hers. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it, so you nodded.
She began to move her hips over your leg, rubbing her wet cunt along your skin. She let out a small, airy breath of satisfaction at the feeling.
“Look at you, so impatient. It’s just my thigh, but you’re so desperate to cum, aren’t you?”
“Mhm,” she replied without hesitation, closing her eyes to focus on the feeling of her folds on you.
“Look at me when you’re riding me,” you demanded, and instantly her eyelids were opening to the sight of your authoritative stare. Was she getting wetter? It felt like it. Her hips sped up just a bit, and she started to rock them a little harder, shifting herself along the muscles in your thigh. She was trying so hard to find the perfect spot. A spot that would touch her clit in just the right way. A spot that would have her cumming just like she wanted.
After a few minutes of her slowing down and speeding up, of shifting around on your leg, of whining when the positions she was trying didn’t feel right, you let out a laugh. Yep, a small laugh. And it had her frowning, pausing her movements with an expression of defeat and confusion.
“What’s funny?”
“You. You look pathetic.”
That’s it, she thought. She resumed, slowly and painstakingly rubbing herself against you again, “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are,” you replied, matter-of-factly, “Just a stupid, needy girl getting off on a thigh. That’s all you can do, huh? Get your pussy wet. Is that all you’re good for?”
She tried to respond with a confident “No!” but it came out more like a whiny groan, which only further proved your point. It also made her so wet that she was practically slipping over your skin now.
You snickered, “Can’t even speak. How do you expect to get fucked properly if you can’t even ask? You had to nag and annoy me until I let you get what you wanted.”
“Not what I wanted,” she remarked, eyelids fluttering as her clit started to throb. Feels so good, she thought to herself.
“Yeah, well, stupid girls don’t get what they want sometimes. Especially if they don’t ask for it politely.”
“I’m not stupid,” she whimpered, hips thrusting against your thigh faster than before. Her climax was brewing somewhere in her abdomen, just waiting to be brought to the surface, “Fuck.”
“You are though, baby,” you spoke to her in a patronizing voice now, fingertips gripping her thigh before giving it a little slap. It was enough to make her jolt and let out a surprised moan, “My stupid, desperate little play thing. My toy. That’s all you’re good for, playing with.”
God, that’s all she wanted to hear. She moaned, cunt weeping all over your leg as she reached the precipice of her release.
“Are you really going to cum so soon? You are desperate, huh? Just a pathetic slut that can’t wait for the chance to cum.”
“Please,” she whined.
“Please? Please what? Speak, baby, it’s not that hard.”
“Need your fingers.”
“No, I told you. My thigh, or nothing,” you kept your foot down, not budging even when she let out a sigh of agony. Watching her crumble while not getting her way was satisfying for you.
“But I need it. So bad.”
“You don’t need them, you want them. You want them so bad, I know. But you want to cum, don’t you?” your hand returned to her hips, helping her in her movements so that she was moving faster now. You could see her cheeks growing pink and her lips remained parted as quick, short breaths left them, “Cum all over me like the needy little bitch you are. Come on. Do the one thing you’re good at and cum.”
Mina couldn’t take it anymore. The pleasure had been coursing through her like electricity before it landed at her pussy. Her walls clenched around nothing and her clit throbbed faster than before as it dragged along the expanse of your thigh. Your skin was covered in her juices as they flowed freely from her. You could feel her heat seeping onto you. It was honestly turning you on, but you weren’t going to tell her that. You had to stick strongly to your nasty demeanor.
“Are you really not going to fuck me?” she asked softly once her orgasm had settled down. She stayed seated on your lap even after, in the hopes you would say yes, “Not even just with your fingers?”
“You’ll be lucky if you get my thigh again,” you gestured to the spot beside you on the couch, “Now sit back down and let me finish this episode, then maybe I’ll consider fucking you.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @heerinnie @bekah931215 @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle
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so many people complimented my dress and told me i looked pretty which was so nice….. i got attention from so many people but it kind of hurts that i got almost nothing from the people i craved it the most 🥲 i feel bad lmao i should he grateful but yeah
i don’t have a crush crush but there’s three guys i kinda of like, so recap:
• mechanical engineer, not in my program, was in one of my classes last year (we had “dinner”together once and i lost my shit it’s in an old post)
• neuroscience, in my program, he complimented me a lot at the beginning of the semester but hasn’t really talked to me recently :(
• literally not sure right now but it used to be biochem, in my program, roommate’s friend, have never met him
for the engineer guy i like him because he’s so sweet. he was already really nice to me and it’s so great to speak to someone who is kind like that. he’s really smart and outgoing, i enjoyed his company a lot and would like to be friends with him still, hopefully i’ll see him around more and we can get together some time. i considered asking him to this dance but since we weren’t super close i figured it would be awkward, and also taking a date would mean i don’t get to speak to others 😭 so that’s all for him, since the party was for people in my program and their dates. i forgot to emphasize more earlier but he is adorable. literally golden retriever type boy 😭
as for the neuro guy, he’s the one that’s literally stunning. i cant explain but so you have an idea i told another friend in my program today when i saw him in line and she literally said “he looks cute from the back” HE DOES. his face is perfect and he’s super super handsome. he’s really smart and i fucking love it when he talks in class cause his voice is sooooo deep and soothing and nice and i get so upset when he’s sick and doesn’t go to class it’s happened like twice already and it’s so annoying help 😭 anyway he used to tell me nice things sometimes and i went the opposite direction an embarrassing amount of times so i could talk to him a bit longer while we walked 🙃 anyway i feel like we haven’t spoken in so long and i feel very…. distant. but i literally catch him staring at me in class idk if im delusional but sometimes it seems like he might like me a little but it’s weird because he’s kind of reserved but also super popular im so confused regarding him. but what felt so nice was that when he saw me today he waved and smiled soooo beautifully i almost 🫠 we were in that aforementioned line though (I HATE THAT LINE 🎤) so i don’t know if he saw my dress i hope he did so many people liked it i hope he liked it too im ??/!/?/? i wish i could have talked to him…..
as for the last guy he just kinda proved to me it’s a waste of time lmao. he is really really cute on paper seems like everything i want but naur so bye to him because I KID YOU NOT this man spoke to everyone but me and he had drunk girls hanging off him all night this girl literally fell to the floor and he had to keep lifting her and it was just weird to see idk i am not about that so if that’s what he likes to do i am not going to butt in he can have these types of friends lmao but something tells me it’s not really my scene so 😭 but yeah. it’s nice he helped his friend but it rubs me the wrong way when someone is close with hundreds of drunk women sorry not sorry ?
the best part was definitely the neuro guy smiling at me. he looked so handsome. i hope i can get closer to him. we are so different but maybe. idk. i don’t want a boyfriend but it does give my life excitement. Heheh tee hee hee
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dearlordsanta · 1 year
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Work, school, rosacea, and community
It's been a while. Thought I'd pop in with a little update!
I won't go too much into work because I don't want folks to be able to guess where I work. That being said, work has been a little tough lately, like it has been at a lot of places, we've been impacted by the recession. Hiring freezes, layoffs, being short-staffed, the whole bit. I recently even had to reapply to keep my job. It was stressful. I like my job, and this is the best company I've ever worked for. On top of all that, this job is the only reason I can keep going to school because they are paying for it. I mentioned my anxiety a bit in the past, but not in every post, which is saying a lot, I feel because I'm anxious almost all the time. I did interview practice with a third-party company that was made available to us during the time of layoffs, met with my mentor, and prepped as best I could for questions I thought might be asked. I did well in my interview, better than almost any other interview I've had, so I'm happy to report I'm staying employed! Yay!
School is still going great! I'm in my second math class and it's actually pretty neat. We're learning how to do equations in Google Sheets/Excel, which I thought was interesting. It's practical learning that I can apply to my current, and any future, jobs that I may have. I am also learning that the work I've done in Excel so far is barely scratching the surface, so I'm excited to learn more. Still holding steady at a 4.0 too, by the way! Woot woot!
I have never been officially diagnosed with rosacea, but my face (especially my nose) is red ALL the time, and my mom has been diagnosed with rosacea, so we've always assumed that's what it was. I used to try to cover it with make-up, but that is worse. I gave up on coverup a long time ago and try new things now and again, but it never goes away. That is not why I am bringing this up though! A few months ago, one eye started being really red almost constantly. I thought it might be allergies, so I tried allergy medicine and allergy eye drops to no avail. It was also starting to hurt. Finally, after about a month/month-and-a-half, I went to the optometrist. She informed me that I have rosacea ON/IN my eye! Honestly, I almost cried. I almost cried because I knew this was one more thing that would be forever. There is treatment, but no cure. If I didn't want to be in pain, I was going to have to work at it and I knew even then that there was no guarantee. She told me the treatment, scheduled a checkup in four weeks, and sent me on my way with a promise to call if it got worse. If you read my blog, you know everything else that is on my plate, and I was having a bad day. It was too much. I have eye wipes, eyelid spray, and eye drops. I have to do the wipes and the spray twice a day and the eye drops four times a day. I've been doing that, and it's helped. Again, not gone, but better. Until a few days ago. Three nights ago, I couldn't sleep because my eye hurt so badly. No matter what I did, nothing helped. It was red and swollen and it hurt every time I closed my eyes, even if it was just to blink. After a sleepless night, I called the doctor. She told me to keep doing the wipes and the spray, to up the eye drops to every two hours while I am awake, and to add eye gel. It's annoying, but it's helped. I was able to sleep, but it still hurts to blink sometimes. My appointment is in a few days now. Hopefully, nothing else is going on.
Lastly, I know I've written about my dogs before, but it's been a while. When you have a dog, you become part of a community. I realize this the more I go to dog parks. Even at the pet store, you get people who are rude about your dog, even if the dog isn't doing anything. However, today at the dog park, my girl was running and playing like normal and then she tripped and started crying. I don't mean the sad pitiful crying, but loud, high-pitched, I-think-I'm-dying type of crying. I was close by [obviously] and immediately rushed over to her. She didn't even stop crying when I picked her up and she was favoring her leg. EVERY SINGLE DOG OWNER RAN over to see if my dog was okay. They watched as I carefully, followed by not-so-carefully, felt her leg for injury. Once my pup realized it didn't hurt anymore, she ran off to play. Everyone there asked if she was okay or if I needed help and distracted her by petting her while I was checking her leg. When she ran off again, they all said how glad they were that she wasn't hurt. Y'all...I hadn't met a SINGLE person there before. At that moment though, they became my people. It was so comforting, and it reminded me why I drive a smidge further to this dog park than going to one a little closer to home.
PS: No real updates on my husband. He was doing really well for several weeks and was talking about going back to work part-time, but a couple weeks ago, he had another flare-up that is still going on, so I'm back to barely talking to him because he's mostly sleeping, or too cranky/sick to talk. Feeling really lucky to have my dogs <3
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ltsaradharkness · 2 years
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So I'm pretty sure this is where I say stuff I can't or would not say elsewhere. If I scrolled to the early days it has poop jokes etc.
But I've been sick for weeks. I was on antibiotics and steroids for a week but they didn't help and the pain in my throat got so bad that that I called my doctor again and I had to wait 5 days because it was the weekend but he got me on 30 day antibiotic and 3 days of Azithromycin which finally cleared up my sore throat for the most part but I'm still sick I'm still coughing and I've still got heavy congestion and stuff. But what I'm happy about is that being on these antibiotics has not caused me to be constipated since for me constipation causes a whole host of other problems headaches included it's one of my most common triggers for migraines to be honest, but since I've been on the pills and everything I haven't had any trouble going to the bathroom in fact some days I go twice a day which is unheard of in my world. So there's that which is just great hopefully the rest of this clears up soon because I'm so sick of coughing it's not as bad as it was before I'm not constant but sometimes it's so bad I almost throw up. And since the pain in my throat has cleared up I feel like my throat has grown up fur rug which is just a really odd sensation but hopefully I'll be better soon.
I was working on cleaning my room earlier and burned the ever living s*** out of my crotch with a cup of hot tea because I lost my my hand hold that I had on the cup when I tried to shift a little bit and literally poured scalding hot tea on my crotch and my stomach so then had to spend two hours cleaning I'm getting my bedding dry so that I could go to sleep as well as getting my normal clothes washed so I'd have underwear this week. My brother and I went and got my stuff from his storage unit and hopefully in the morning I can work on getting the stuff re sorted and packed and everything so that I can put it in the Attic.
I decided to start trying half of the CBD gummies because a whole one seems to be too much yeah I have one takes a little bit longer to kick in but it doesn't seem to put me in a weird days the whole next day whereas a whole one I feel like all I can hear in my head is ocean sounds which I told my boss that and she looked at me like I was crazy and I'm like normally they're screeching in my head so ocean sounds is calming sure but it's also really strange for me and she's like maybe it's too strong I don't like you know what that was my thought. It's funny my my boss is only 10 years older than me but she's also from Crimea so she's from Ukraine Russia that sort of thing however you want to think of it especially since she's 44 so I guess at the time it was when she grew up it was still all post war and stuff so she's a weird least Americans maybe sort of idea about things maybe she's just a little like she's a little older than she seems or then she actually is I don't know it's hard to explain she's funny and she thinks I'm f****** hilarious for when I react to people. Working in a hotel is such a weird experience for me. I don't like people and I just want to tell half of my guests to just f*** off but I also try and I do try to be helpful and considerate but also you're in my house I'm not going to let you run all over me dude. Especially since majority of the time I am the only one on shift literally if I work second shift maybe the first 2 hours my bosses are there but the rest of my shift I'm alone and then on third shift I'm only with my bosses for the last 30 minutes of the change of shift so literally I spend 5 to 7 hours of every shift completely alone and people seem to think that we should do more for them than we actually do we're not a resort hotel we're not a five-star hotel like hell we're not even a three-star hotel we don't we don't have the support to do things the way you think we should be doing them also where did you get these ideas that this is the way things were at a hotel do you watch too many movies or something like where did you get these ideas.
I'm gonna go to bed now, I know most of this doesn't have punctuation but that's because I used Google voice to talk and I literally just did not feel like typing it out.
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clownsuu · 2 years
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I don't know if someone has asked this, or if you have done this yet, but like, do you have any headcannons on what DJMM thinks of his coworkers? [Chica, Roxy, Montgomery, Freddy, Sun, Moon, and etc.]
O shid-
I haven't yet soooooo-
(long post)
Dj is very generally nice with everyone- rarely does he ever hate anybody at all-
Freddy: Very wholesome relationship! Basically best friends who just talk about really pure and fatherly things- he always makes sure to not play his more adult music with Freddy since freddy isn’t quite comfortable with really suggestive adult shit- and dj respects that. Dj thinks Freddy is a very good father figure.
Monty: Very rad workers- during work they are really close, but after hours monty is more distant to dj- they have tried to be friends- but dj’s chill and relaxed behavior does not blend well with Monty’s more serious and competitive self- Dj thinks Monty needs to let lose a little, but does not hate monty for being a bit irritable
Chica: Ah his training buddy! Absolutely friendly towards Chica! Every time they get ready for their twice weekly work out they always got gossip and talk about random shit- rarely (if at all) are they ever quiet when on a workout- Dj sees her as a little sister to him, though if she really wanted to, she could snap his head like a twig. Dj thinks really cool, but is afraid to get on her bad side
Roxy: Quite neutral with her, but DJ's very teasing when it comes to her and Chica- Roxy is very loud as monty is, however he has more of a connection with Roxy, since not only does she come to the midnight parties every so often to rock out, but also to get relationship advice since she is a lost cause when it comes to being romantic- Dj thinks she's doing her best despite failing successfully
Sun: Even more wholesome than Freddy- every time they talk DJ always feels like he's talking to his own mother or old kindergarten teacher- always smiling and cheery when ever they have a conversation, even tho sun doesn't always come to the floor- once DJ asked sun "how do you do it? Always being so cheery and happy?" And sun replied "oh? Well, I lie to myself every day. I lie and cope with everything and force a smile on my face- but someday- I'm going to fucking snap- and this whole fucking building is going to fucking burn from my hands." DJ thinks Sun needs a therapist and is afraid of what sun would do next
Moon: Is probably the closest to- moon has seen him at his most vulnerable and really cares about moon, despite teasing the absolute shit out of them and making them regret their life choices- sometimes he's even seen moon on their vulnerable days and wishes to help, but moon always pushes him away. Dj thinks that someday, hopefully, moon would let dj be there for him too. And also thinks Moon is a dorky brat in a positive manner
Bonus:
Map bot: fucking terrifying how quiet they are until a random moment they ask if he wants a free map- no matter how much he tries to tell them he cannot see the map, they are still persistent- Dj thinks he might have to contact management about it-
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dreamsoflevi · 3 years
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Love Was Not Enough | Part 1
Summary: A titan shifter is working in the Scout Regiment with a plan. Growing up with hate for Paradis takes a complete turn when falling for a certain Captain and developing friendships. Is it too late to make a change?
Word Count: 4.2k
CW: Some fluff, angst, mentions of violence, description of an emotional breakdown, stress.
Author’s Note: My first post on Tumblr! I’m so slow when it comes to using Tumblr lol. Starting off with an angsty story because it's raining and gloomy. It was supposed to be an one-shot but it ended up being super long. There will be 1-2 more parts. Hope you enjoy! ♡
You loved him.
You really did.
You still do.
When you first met him, you were surprised this was the person everyone was referring to when they would mention Humanity's strongest soldier, Captain Levi. His aloof and brash attitude would prove those thoughts drilled in your head about the devils in disguise living amongst the lands as you. He didn't care for anything and he wouldn’t hesitate to remind you of that. “You will become titan shit.” His exact words spat to your face. Who does he think he is?
You were exceptional at what you did, full of intellect and skills landed you on his squad along with a group of newer cadets. The 104th cadets. You were all replacements for his previous squad who were killed by the female titan, your comrade Annie during the 57th expedition. You were trained for this after all. You were prepared and you had a plan along with a few others. Secret glances, nods, and meetings were shared amongst you four any chance you could get.
You ended up befriending a few too. A shy yet wise Armin, an extremely passionate Eren, a wild and resourceful Sasha, and some others. A bunch of children putting their lives on the line for a better tomorrow, a hopeful future. Aren’t you doing the same too?
During expeditions, you would watch Captain Levi swinging through trees on his ODM gear, slicing through the napes of every titan he landed his eyes on. Now you understand why he is humanity’s strongest. Slicing through titans without a struggle and with immense strength and speed.
He'd frantically look around making sure the others were okay. He'd shout the names of his squad and any other names he could remember hoping to get a shout in return. The panicked look on this face when he would hear screams and race to the source of them. Maybe he does care. When returning to the walls, you could see him grimace watching the gates open only for it to quickly change back to his normal neutral expression.
-
“L/N!” A voice breaking your thoughts as you walk back inside the headquarters after training. You turn around to see Captain Levi standing behind you with a small stack of papers in his hand.
“Yes, Captain?” You wiped the sweat off your forehead with your sleeve.
“Are you doing anything after this?”
You shook your head. “No, sir. Do you need anything?”
“Yes. Deliver this paperwork to Commander Erwin. He should be in his office now.” He handed you the small stack of papers he was holding.
“Yes, sir.” You nodded your head grabbing the papers and walking in the direction of Commander Erwin’s office.
Approaching his office, you knocked on his door. You heard a deep voice respond and turned the knob to enter. Opening the door, you see the distressed Commander sitting at his desk. One hand resting on his forehead and the other scribbling away. He glances up and sees the stack in your hands.
“Ah, thank you (Y/N), I was waiting for these.” Raising his hand in anticipation of the papers.
You walked up to his desk handing it to him. “No problem, Commander.”
You look around his messy desk. Papers spread all around, empty teacups resting on the side, and two ink bottles sitting on his desk. Your eyes take a peek at his face, dark circles under his eyes, and his hair slightly messed up. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him. No. You try shaking those thoughts away. They are the devils and we are paying for their actions.
But you take another look at him. Imagine being in his position. Are you aware of what your ancestors did, Commander? He’s shuffling through the small stack of papers that were just handed to him. You can see the squares and circles in the form of a large triangle. The formations. The lives and the future of thousands rest upon this single man’s shoulders. Of course, he has to spend hours on end meticulously planning the expeditions and making sure the formations are properly formed. A plan for a better tomorrow, a hopeful future. Don’t you want that too?
You internally sigh in defeat. “Um... Commander?” You nervously play with your fingers.
“Yes, (Y/N)?” He looks up at you, hand still holding the quill and the other now resting on the desk.
“Do.. do you need help? I just finished training and If you need help, I…” You bite your lip, your nerves getting the best of you as his eyes remain in contact with yours.
The curves of his mouth turn upwards. “If you can, please.” He gestures to the seat in front of him.
You flash him a smile, nod your head and take a seat. He hands you a stack of papers. “For these, you just need to write today’s date under the line where it says date received. Then organize them alphabetically.”
That’s where you found yourself at least twice a week. Helping the commander out whenever you could, organizing his paperwork, and filling them out whenever he needed you to. Sometimes you would work in complete silence. The sounds of pens scribbling, paper shuffling, and the sips the Commander took of his tea. Sometimes he would tell you a little story about his life and of his childhood. He would speak of his father being a major inspiration in his life and the reason he pushes forward every day. He had a sudden death, though the Commander never told you why, you can imagine it was a traumatic one for him.
A couple of months pass by and you are now sitting in the Captain's office. Coming into Commander’s office one day and seeing his surprisingly organized desk for once and him telling you that he didn’t need any assistance today. However, Captain Levi might need help with the reports from a previous expedition. Nodding your head and giving a quick salute, you made your way to Captain Levi’s office.
Working with Captain Levi was soothing. His office was very neat. Paperwork in his office sitting on his desk in organized piles. You can smell the faint scent of lemon which was refreshing. You visiting his office became a more frequent occurrence since he appreciated the assistance he would receive though he’d never tell you that. He would have a stack ready for you set up on the side table in his office. He was not much of a talker like Commander Erwin nor was he someone who reminisces his life it seems.
However, you would still have conversations here and there. He would ask about how you were feeling with training and if you dared to complain about the exercises he was giving, he would simply tell you to get better with the exercises or get eaten. Then realizing his bluntness and the silence that filled the room after, he would elaborate on his statement.
What he means is, he would say, these exercises help with increasing stamina and balance that will aid us on the battlefield. Outside the walls, anything can happen. Titans pop out of nowhere catching you off guard and little mishaps like getting tangled, being too slow, or even aiming your anchor wrong can lead to a fatal mistake. You could agree with that.
“(L/n), why did you decide to join the scouts?” He asked without looking up from what he was doing.
You stilled for a second and looked up at him. His eyes were still on the paper in front of him. This question always catches you off guard even if you rehearsed it so many times. It makes you nervous and vulnerable as if the person asking can see right through you and your facade.
“Same reason as everyone else, sir.” He glanced at you now and you immediately looked back down at the paper in front of you. You tried to avoid as much eye contact as you can.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Which is?”
“F-freedom.. from the titans.” You heard a scoff.
“Now you sound like Eren.” He was still looking at you. You dared to meet your eyes with his. He still had a stoic look on his face but there was curiosity simmering in his eyes. He was waiting for an answer. You had no choice but to give one. How would you say it though? You don’t want to lie. Captain Levi can be very perceptive and you’re sure he could see through your facade.
You bit your lip. “I… I want a better future for myself, my loved ones, and future generations. All my life, I’ve experienced confinement and.. oppression. But I have been given the power- er, the opportunity I should say to aid in defeating our e-enemies and... and I hope to accomplish that to live a more liberating life.”
He remained in eye contact with you without saying anything. The silence was deafening in the room and you hoped he would say something. Each second of silence was building the temperature in your body as your nerves were starting to get the best of you. Your chest was burning and you could feel a bit of sweat forming on your scalp. Did you say the wrong thing? Or maybe you said too much? Why isn’t he saying anything?
Your lips parted in anticipation to say something. But what else were you going to say? Before you can process what you are going to say, he hummed and looked back down at his work.
“You are right. We all have the same reason, more or less. To break out of these confined and oppressive walls and defeat these shitty titans. Whatever is out there must be better than what we live in now.”
You internally sighed. It’s not better but hopefully, it will get better. I guess we have the same mission, just different targets. You and everyone else here being mine Captain. You felt your throat dry up. Can you imagine killing these people? Watching Captain struggling on his last breath? Commander Erwin? Hange? Connie, Sasha, Jean, Armin? But your ancestors... Now you are suffering because of these devils.
Shaking your head of these thoughts, you try to focus back on the paper in front of you. “Ar-” You cleared your throat. “Armin believes there’s a sea out there.”
He snorted. “That kid and his shitty dream...” You could see a hint of a smile forming on his face. “Who knows, maybe there is.”
You come to realize that he’s not rude, he just doesn’t know how to express himself. His actions speak louder than words and you can’t help but grow a lot of respect for him. But he’s still a devil. But he has a heart and he cares for every single person in this regiment, including you. It doesn’t matter. They caused your people pain and betrayed them.
-
A perk of being on Captain Levi’s squad is getting to sit on meetings planning the expeditions. Commander Erwin would call these meetings for input on observations made from previous missions. Armin enthusiastically shares what he learns from the missions. Plans are being formed around Eren and his abilities. He’s learning new things about what he can do every day and recently he learned about hardening abilities from Annie. Working with Hange to train how to harden properly to be able to plug walls in the future.
They have no idea though. No idea what is beyond these walls, where these titans come from, where do they go, or anything else. They are risking their lives for the answers, the answers that you already know.
Walking through the dark hallways, you step into the mess hall. There sitting on a table in the dimly lit corner were Reiner and Bertholdt. The ones on the mission with you alongside Annie.
“Where have you been lately?” Reiner asked as you sat down on the bench. You usually had these meetings at least once or twice a week, but since Annie was captured, things have gotten more hectic. In fear of getting caught or being busy with so many tasks, you haven’t had the chance to meet with them as often as you should.
“Sorry.. I’ve just been swamped with training, meetings, and helping the higher-ups with their paperwork.”
Reiner narrows his eyes at you. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with them lately.”
“Yeah but I’ve managed to learn a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Well, Eren is close to figuring out his hardening abilities. Hange had taken the sample from Annie but she didn’t get far with that. Now she and Eren are working together to see how Eren can unlock his own ability.”
Reiner hummed. “If Eren learns how to harden, he could start landing attacks on me. He’d still be no match for Bertholdt though.”
You nodded in response. There was an awkward silence. No one had much to say which was a huge difference from before when you had to plot your next moves and practice your stories together. Usually, Reiner was the one who would come up with the plans and assign tasks to the rest of you three. This was before the fight between Eren and Annie. You didn’t expect Annie to lock herself into the crystal.
You looked at Reiner who seemed to be deep in thought. “What are you thinking?”
He sighed. “I think another attack is coming soon.”
Bertholdt and your eyes widen. “Are you sure? Isn’t it a little too quick, Reiner?” Bertholdt wearily asks. You nod your head in agreement.
“They already have Annie. We need to get Eren and try to get Annie out of there as well.”
“Yes!” Bertholdt interjects. “We do need to save Annie.” Bertholdt always had a soft spot for Annie. You have an inkling he has a crush on her because he gets flustered and avoids the topic every time it’s brought up.
You don’t know if you’re ready for another attack. The last one was devastating. The fight between Eren and Annie destroyed so many homes and lost lives. Children losing their parents, parents losing their children, lovers lost… It is heartbreaking. You don’t know if you can stomach another attack at this point. What are you saying? That is what you’re here for. You need to do this for your people back home. You let out a long exhale and close your eyes.
“It bothers you too, doesn’t it?” You open your eyes to Bertholdt looking at you.
“They are people… just like us.”
You nod your head meekly. “Just like us.” You repeated in a whisper.
Reiner sighs. “And they have no clue what is happening.”
“No clue.” You and Bertholdt breathe simultaneously. You three sit in silence, all three of you lost in your own thoughts. Why did it have to be us?
-
During training you noticed Captain Levi limping a little more than usual. Since the 57th expedition, his leg has been in bad shape. He still supervises your training and some days, he can walk properly and some days he’s limping. You turn back to your task at hand, slicing through the titan dummies set up.
“(Y/n)! Straighten your back!” He yells from the field and you obey, straightening your back while you and Connie swing to the titan dummy.
“Oi Sasha! You have to aim your anchors a bit higher!”
“Mikasa, don't go too fast!”
The comments usually went like that for the entire training session. Watching all of you train and critique your performances. You’re not going to lie, it was a pain in the ass. But you noticed it does help you outside of the walls. Captain Levi is good at what he does. He’s perceptive and knows exactly what to do and when. He is a natural titan killer. Being able to take down small to abnormal and maybe even ones like you. After you were done, you all were panting and sweating while walking back to the field.
“Phew! That was some training today,” Connie wiped the sweat off of his forehead.
Jean clicked his tongue. “That was nothing! Probably too much for you right Yeager?” He smirked at Eren.
Eren rolled his eyes. “You wish, Jean boy. That’s why you’re drenched in sweat.”
“Am not!”
“Are too!”
You all groaned as Eren and Jean started arguing for the fifth time today. The first two times Armin tried to interject to try and diffuse the argument but at this point, even he gave up.
“You’re on Yeager. After dinner, we’ll have an arm wrestling match.”
“After dinner,” Eren confirmed. “Don’t horse around Kirstein.”
“Shut up titan freak.”
“Are you ladies done bickering?” Captain Levi glared at them with his arms crossed. Eren clicked his tongue and Jean muttered under his breath. Captain narrowed his eyes at them, a warning to fix their attitudes. They immediately straightened their backs.
“Yes sir!” A few of you silently giggled watching them get scolded by Captain Levi.
Watching them with a smile, you loved the banter between Eren and Jean. Despite the arguments, you know deep down they have respect and admiration for one another. It’s distinctly shown during battle when they are looking out for another. Even during Eren’s fits of rage, Jean is understanding and never attacks Eren for his impulsive decisions. He might get a little bit of teasing though.
They were very friendly with you too. Always giving you a pat on the back or a cheesy grin whenever they see you. Looking back at you when riding through the gates to make sure you’re okay or screaming your name to make sure you are fine when fighting titans. And let’s not forget Jean’s flirty nature. His love for Mikasa is strong but he can’t help it when he sees any walking and breathing female. Just kidding. He’s not that girl crazy.. maybe. It’s too soon to decide that.
I think another attack is coming soon. You heard Reiner’s voice suddenly appeared in your mind. You suddenly started feeling a bit nauseous. Another attack on these people. These people you are considering your friends. You felt the salty taste in the back of your throat. Trying to calm your nerves, you took some deep quiet breaths. It wasn’t helping. It was getting harder to swallow with your throat tightening. You silently walked back hoping no one starts a conversation with you. As soon as you get back, you were planning on taking a very, very cold shower.
Grabbing your clothes, you ran into the showers. Breathing hard and with shaking hands, you turned the shower knob. The cold water hitting you and startling you for the first few seconds. You can’t. You can. You can’t. You have to. But these people, you can’t do that to them now. Not when they are just started to grow on you. They were normal people with normal feelings. They’re not… devils? Yes, they are.
You remember the attack in Trost. The chaos that spread through the walls. These same cadets hopelessly try to fight the titans. You were all newly graduated. Thomas getting eaten by a titan. Screams and cries filled your ears along with the sounds of loud thumps and bone-crunching.
When you were discussing things with Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie, poor Marco being in the wrong place at the wrong time. How devastated Jean was losing his best friend and not knowing ultimately it was you three that led to his death. Not only his but everyone else’s. The way Armin looked when Eren sacrificed himself to save him.
Can you do this again?
A sob escaped from your throat. Tears flew down your cheeks getting mixed in with the water. You are no different than them, aren't you? The blood of these innocent lives on your hands. But they were the reason for all this, no? Except they don’t know. Is it justifiable blaming them for something that happened so many years ago? While you are oppressed by the Marleyeans, they are oppressed by these titans. Aren’t you any different from the Marleyans then? Punishing innocent people for things out of their control?
Leaning your head on the tiled wall, you needed to make a decision. Whose side are you on? No, whose side do you want to be on? Do you want to continue the same treatment you received? Do you want to be the reason a child loses their mother? Their father? You need to make a decision and make it quick. You grabbed the soap bar and cleaned yourself off. You will make a decision. You just need time.
After your shower, you remembered you were going to go to Captain Levi’s office to help him with his paperwork. You also remembered how he was limping badly today. Before going into his office, you decided to make a trip to the infirmary.
Asking the nurses for some balm for Captain Levi’s leg, you grabbed a small jar and made your way to his office. What’s the reason for this? Are you trying to relieve some of the guilt eating away at your conscience?
Entering his office, he offered a small greeting before pointing to the paperwork that needed to be done today. Before getting seated at the table, you walked over to his desk and held out the small jar. With an eyebrow raised, he looked at the jar in your hand.
“It’s for your leg. You were limping today and I thought this might help sir.”
He took the jar from your hand. The curves of his mouth turned upward, not enough to call it a smile since he hardly ever did. “Thank you.”
Thank you. You felt your heart flutter. You barely hear words of acknowledgment from him and you can’t help but feel happy that you were on the receiving end of them. So what? Why do you care? Because you do admire him. After all, he was your Captain and you respect him. And he is looking nicer than usual in his black suit and cravat. What? Are you okay? You’re just acknowledging his looks. It means nothing-
Wait, he said thank you. You need to answer him instead of disputing with your own self.
“It’s no problem.” You smiled at him and walked over to your seat and began working.
-
That is how things went for a while. You have been avoiding Reiner and Bertholdt any chance you can get because you were unsure of how to explain the inner turmoil you are having with yourself. You are close to walking away from it all, officially dedicating your heart to the Scouts, to Commander Erwin, to Paradis. You are willing to throw it away. Your family, friends, and everyone else back home. They don’t understand what you’re going through. The struggle you are facing. It’s easy to be on the other side of things but when having to see these losses head-on, it’s gut-wrenching.
You managed to get even closer to everyone. Sharing laughs and jokes with your squad during breakfast and dinner, working with Commander Erwin more closely and offering suggestions when he’s planning the formations, engaging in more conversations with Captain Levi, and even spending time in Hange’s office.
“Oh! Hello again (Y/n)! Guess what Eren is doing today!” Hange exclaimed while wrapping her arm around Eren’s neck. Eren holding onto her arm trying to relieve some pressure on his neck.
“What is he doing today?” You gave Eren a little smirk.
“Drinking a lot of water. We’re testing out his pee!” She shoved a large canteen into Eren’s chest.
“Pee? Wait, why?”
“Because Eren, we’re tested your blood but we haven’t received consistent results. So we are going to try your bladder. So drink up! We need at least a liter.”
“A liter?!” Eren squeaked.
Hange cackled. “A liter indeed!”
“(Y/n), do you want to help Eren out?” She flashed a grin at you.
“Sure,” you shrugged. “What do I have to do?”
“Just make sure he drinks this entire canteen of water. And if he doesn’t..” her smile dropped and she grimly looked at you, “Force him.”
Eren managed to drink the canteen of water and he also managed to give a liter of urine samples. Unfortunately, Eren had to run to the bathroom every half hour for the rest of the day. This resulted in a very irritated Captain Levi and a snickering Jean.
“What experiment did four eyes do on the shit head today?” He asked you when you walked into his office.
“She needed urine samples from Eren so she forced him to drink an entire canteen which is a gallon of water in one hour.” You grinned while grabbing your stack of papers.
He cringed. “Poor Eren.”
You snapped your neck to look at him in shock. “Did you just have sympathy for someone, Captain?”
“Oi, shut it. Don’t get mouthy with me.” He teasingly pointed a finger at you.
You snickered, taking your usual seat at the table. “I mean… It’s Hange. I always have sympathy for anyone who works with her. Look at poor Moblit.” He chuckled.
His chuckle rang through your head. He chuckled. You quickly caught your thoughts and felt heat rushing up to your cheeks for getting flustered about him chuckling. Why are you feeling like this?
“Captain, what’s the occasion? I don’t think anyone has ever heard you laugh.” You grinned at him.
“That wasn’t a laugh.” He immediately responded while scribbling on papers.
“Fine. A chuckle.” You rolled your eyes and began shuffling through the papers and organizing them.
“Well feel special I guess. You heard your captain chuckle.” He mockingly repeats the word in your tone.
Special. You smile. I do feel special.
102 notes · View notes
theoswriting · 3 years
Text
fault line [part. i]
summary: To y/n, freedom feels like wind in her hair, sounds like old school rock'n'roll and tastes like Elle's lips. From the fire in front of them comes warmth. With every passing second, bloodied clothes burn beyond the point of recognition.
pairing: elle greenaway x fem!reader
a/n: uhm okay, this totally got out of hand. from that request, my brain went crazy and I ended up having to cut it into two, so this is part 1. Hopefully I'll post part 2 in a couple of days. I feel weird about this story, but I hope you'll enjoy it at least a tiny bit, haha.
warnings: mentions of rape and sexual abuse (nothing graphic), murder but it's pretty lowkey, sociopathy?, bad profiling, 
ao3
Jennifer Jareau's steps are hurried when she walks from her office to Hotchner's. 
She can feel the eyes of Prentiss, Morgan and Reid following her as she crosses the bullpen. She ignores them, the files she's holding in her hands are far more important. She doesn't wait for an answer after she knocks, not caring that she's interrupting Hotchner in the middle of a phone call. 
Hotch doesn't startle at the irruption, and when he sees the urgency in the liaison's eyes, he doesn't hesitate before saying, "I'm afraid I'll have to call later," to whoever was on the other side of the line. 
"We have a bad one."
***
To y/n, freedom feels like wind in her hair, sounds like old school rock'n'roll and tastes like Elle's lips.
Elle's hand rests on y/n's thigh as she drives with the other, sunglasses covering her eyes as she stares at the road straight ahead. There's a strength in the way she holds the steering wheel, getting them to their next destination with nothing but confidence. As she looks her over, y/n feels a familiar spark wake inside her. It makes her lean towards the driver's side to drop a long kiss on the corner of Elle's mouth. 
Elle doesn't hesitate to turn her head and make it a real kiss, the kind that always leaves y/n breathless and wanting more. When Elle leans back to focus on the road again, the car has swerved to the other side of the road and Elle brings it back to the right lane. 
Not that it matters. It's been hours since they had passed another car, not  a lot of traffic in the middle of the Nevada desert. And if they were to drive off the road, what a way to go, y/n thinks. She'd happily die twice if it meant dying with Elle kissing her with all the love and passion in the world. That'd probably be the only way y/n would ever make it to heaven. 
For now, she leans her head on Elle's shoulder and sighs contentedly at the kiss her girlfriend drops on her temple. 
"I think we can stop soon," y/n says after seconds, "We're far out enough, and I really need to stretch my legs."
It's barely fifteen minutes later when y/n finally gets to use her legs after being in the car for so long. As she stretches, Elle stands beside her, drinking from a water bottle. She passes it to her and y/n thanks her. The heat of the desert is heavy around them, but y/n barely feels it. 
The warmth comes from the fire in front of them, small and controlled. 
With every passing second, bloodied clothes burn beyond the point of recognition. 
***
"LAPD called me this morning for a consultation on two cases they suspected might be connected."
Everyone looks at the files as JJ begins presenting the case. 
"First victim, Matthew McGregor, 36, was killed with a single gunshot wound to the head a year ago after he came home from a party," She explains, "Second victim, Eric Laurens, 28, two days ago, same M.O., single GSW to the head coming home from a party."
JJ sees Derek nod slowly as he reads over the information again, "Seems pretty clear to me that they're connected."
Emily hums in agreement, "And both had gotten arrested on rape charges, but weren't convicted, prior to their deaths."
"A vigilante?" Rossi theorises out loud. 
"There's more," JJ sighs as she clicks on the remote. Five more men appear on screen, a picture from their driver's license and one from a crime scene, "LAPD aren't the only ones who called about similar cases."
Spencer frowns at the screen, "Wyoming, Illinois, New York, these are from all over the country," he observes. 
"Yeah" JJ nods, "And the oldest murder goes back to 2007, the most recent being Eric Laurens two days ago."
"That's seven victims over the last 3 years," Derek observes and that's when Hotch gets up to stand next to JJ.
"Seven that we know of," He says, "We might have a transient serial killer in our hands. We'll be flying out to LA to see what we can learn from the most recent crime scene. I've already asked Garcia to look for unsolved murders with a similar M.O. all over the country, we'll debrief more on the jet. Wheels up in 20."
Without another word, all the agents leave the room to gather their belongings and get to the plane that'll take them to their case. 
***
After being together for almost four years, y/n and Elle had settled into a routine. It was inevitable, y/n guessed, that after so much time together. Some things were bound to become repetitive. 
Elle always takes the left side of the bed, while y/n prefers the right. Elle always cooks if they want their food to be edible, and y/n always cleans up. When it comes to coffee, though, y/n always makes it, Elle's always coming out too strong for both their tastes. When it comes to work, Elle excells at planning while y/n handles the social part.
Their routine is rooted in balance though, and y/n loves the way they compliment each other.
y/n lures the men, Elle shoots them. 
She worries sometimes. She worries that their lives are getting boring, that they have settled into this routine too comfortably and forgotten how to surprise each other. 
"Mmmh," y/n feels Elle stretch next to her, "G'morning."
Her worries never last very long. How could they, when all y/n has to do is look at Elle to realize that there is no way she's ever falling out of love with the woman. 
"Good morning," She replies, getting closer to her girlfriend to drop a kiss on her lips. Elle hums contentedly into the kiss and y/n can't help the grin that takes over her features. When Elle leans back, she keeps her eyes closed and settles back into her pillow and y/n bites her lip as she watches her. 
"We need to go soon," Elle mutters.
y/n quickly agrees, even though she's pretty sure no one is on their tails. They can never be too careful. Never stay in a place too long if you don't want to get trapped. They'd stopped in a random motel for the night, paid in cash, left most of their stuff in the car, ready to take off at any time. 
It was the way things always were the days that'd follow one of their… projects.
Some would consider this lifestyle tiresome. y/n, however, thinks she's the luckiest person in the world. In the last four years, she's travelled through the country and seen the most beautiful sights with the woman she loves by her side. Sure, they have a job to do, but it's never really felt like a job to y/n. She's always heard that people weren't supposed to enjoy their jobs, that's always what grownups had complained about when she was a kid. 
And y/n? Well, she enjoys her job very much. 
***
Reid stares at the board in front of him. He's just put up all the information they have so far and it's… a lot. 
Or rather, there's very little useful information, but many, many, victims. Garcia has managed to find an overwhelming number of unsolved cases with a similar modus operandi: men, killed by a single gunshot to the head on their way home from a party, all previously accused of rape or sexual misconduct. 
They are up to 32 possible victims on top of the 7 they started with, from all over the country. That number only keeps going up the longer Garcia keeps looking. 
By now, they are pretty sure all these cases are connected, even though no evidence connects them directly to each other. Even ballistics couldn't link the different shootings. 
They're missing something. Spencer only wishes he knew what that was. 
On the jet, they'd all agreed on a few things concerning the preliminary profile. Their unsub was most likely highly intelligent and had military or law enforcement training. It was most probably a man in his mid-thirties, carrying out his own justice after the system failed him or someone close to him. He was organized, evident by the lack of clues left behind. Whoever the unsub was, he might even have stalked his victims prior to the crimes. 
It sounds right on paper, but something is missing. Spencer knows it. 
Something is missing.
***
y/n's hand is wrapped around a cup of coffee as she sits on the patio of a little shop. Her sunglasses are small, barely protecting her from the rays coming from the sun above. It's almost noon.
The world is an ugly place. 
That statement had made its way into y/n's head years ago, laying roots, unmoving. With every stroke of her father's anger, with every touch of a man's hands, the roots dug deeper and deeper until they found their way to y/n's heart. The world held no justice for people like y/n. They didn't care about the bruises, the touching, the screaming for help, they never listened. 
She had learned a long time ago that if she wants something, she needs to do it herself. 
"How can you be married to someone like that?" Elle suddenly speaks up from next to her. 
When y/n looks at her, Elle's eyes are fixed onto the man they'd followed. He's at the restaurant on the other side of the street, right in front of the coffee shop. He's sitting with his wife, holding her hand and y/n tilts her head.
"Maybe she doesn't know."
Elle's eyes don't leave the couple, her face still contorted in disgust, "Then, we're doing her a favor."
It brings a smile to y/n's face. The way Elle's voice sounds resolute, confident. It's comforting. It reminds her that she's right to trust Elle, that Elle hates the world just as much as she does and that she'd gladly watch it burn with her. It makes her want to lean in and kiss her, but that would attract too much attention. Instead, she reaches out for her hand and brings it up to her lips. Elle shoots her a small smile, and y/n's heart warms.
It's impressive how a smile from Elle offers y/n a reassurance she hadn't even known she craved. It had always been her against the entire world, the only love she knew was the love she was willing to give to herself. That hadn't always been easy.
Then, she'd met Elle and she had shared a story so different from y/n's but the consequences of it felt familiar. It made sense that y/n had been drawn to her, the strength Elle exuded softened by the understanding y/n saw in her eyes each time she talked. 
The world was an ugly place, but Elle Greenaway makes it worth holding on for a little longer. 
***
"The body was found right where you're standing," Derek says as he looks back at Prentiss from a few feet ahead, "Which means our unsub must've been standing right here," He adds, pointing to the ground under his feet. 
He looks around him as Prentiss voices his exact thought, "There's no way he didn't see the unsub coming. There aren't any good hiding spots out here."
They're standing next to a fence, on the outside of a park, "The sidewalk is big, no trees, or parking allowed, so no cars to hide behind," Derek observes, "Which means our unsub is unsuspecting, someone the victims wouldn't consider a threat."
Emily nods and starts looking up, in search of camera surveillance. Two catch her eye, on the other side of the street and she points out to Derek with a raised eyebrow. Local PD hadn't found anything of use but they decide to call Garcia anyway. If anyone could find something, it was her. 
As Morgan talks to their tech analyst, Emily walks past him, then back, retracing the steps their unsub had most likely taken two nights ago. When she stops, she raises her hands, mimicking a gun and aiming at where the victim would've been standing. Whoever it is, they're a good shot which makes her think they were right in saying the unsub had some kind of firearm training. 
She sighs as she drops her hands down and puts them on her hips. As she looks around again, a thought crosses her mind, "Where did Mr. Laurens live?"
Derek who just hung up with Garcia wracks his brain to remember the address he'd read in the file, "He lived… three streets down, that way-" He points out to the direction their victim had supposedly been walking from and it dawns on him, "So why was he walking in the opposite direction to his home."
Emily nods, "And how did the unsub know they'd find him here."
"They followed him."
"Walked past him, turned around and shot him?" Emily asks as she walks back to stand where the body had been found.
"Or, he was lured out here," Derek speaks and Prentiss has to agree with him. 
"It's the perfect killing spot," She says pointing back at the cameras, "Even if Garcia gets anything from them, it'll be grainy at best, impossible to get a clear shot of our unsub."
Derek looks at the empty street, void of any passerbys, "Quiet street in the day, probably even quieter at night. Less risks to run into an unwanted witness."
"So if he was lured out," Emily says, "We need to figure out who he left that party with."
***
y/n stumbles slightly and giggles as a strong arm wraps around her waist and helps her stay upright. 
"Shoot, I'm such a klutz," She adds with a laugh and her companion replies in kind. 
His laughter grates on her nerves. It's too loud, resonating all around them and using up too much oxygen. She only has to walk with him a couple more minutes but even that feels too long. She feels his too big hand squeeze her hip and she feels anger spike inside her chest. She wants to hurt him. 
Deep breath. Clenched fist. One more minute. 
He's started talking again but y/n isn't listening. She's staring straight ahead to the street they're going to walk into where Elle will be waiting for them and the hand will finally fall from her hip. That's when you feel it, that spark you've come to call freedom. It's small but grows as you round the corner with him following you closely.
It starts burning under your skin when you spot Elle's silhouette further down the street.
The man next to you doesn't even take notice of her and isn't that ironic. He spent his life thinking of women as less than and y/n finds it befitting that what'll bring him to his end is the last woman he'll ignore. 
Elle raises her gun and with the sound of the gunshot ringing in her ears, y/n's whole body is set aflame. 
She watches as the hand lays limp next to his lifeless body and a gleeful laugh escapes her. The hole in his head oozes blood and she can't stop laughing. The hand is laying there unmoving and y/n feels the urge to step on it. 
Hurt him, hurt him, hurt him, hurt him like he hurt you. 
She's vaguely aware of Elle calling out her name but y/n doesn't snap out of it until a hand yanks her away from the body by the shoulders. She steps back, but slaps the hands touching her away. Only then does she realize that it's Elle looking at her, confusion in her eyes and something y/n doesn't want to ever see from her own girlfriend. 
Fear.
"We have to go," Elle announces slowly, like she's explaining it to a child, or a wounded animal. y/n doesn't know which comparison she likes best. She looks back at the body and regretfully nods.
They start walking away, hand in hand, but something inside of y/n doesn't feel quite right. The fire that had roared inside of her is long gone and she feels her body shiver at the cold. Elle notices and wraps an arm around her shoulders, dropping a kiss on her hair as they keep walking side by side.
She wants to smile but she can't manage it. 
He hurt her.
He was going to hurt Elle.
He hurt her.
***
"Laurens' friends say he left the party alone," Emily announces to the team as she sits down next to JJ in the conference room. At the same moment, Derek's phone starts ringing, attracting everyone's attention.
"Baby girl, tell me you have good news," Derek answers, putting his phone on speaker so everyone around the table can hear. 
"I wish, but no. The cameras on the street were of no use, it's a blind spot. I tried the cameras from neighbouring streets but got nothing. Whoever it is your looking for, they're like a ghost."
There's a collective disappointed sigh and shoulders sagging, and Garcia isn't done, "to make a bad day even worse, a body was just found in Twin Falls, same M.O."
Everyone visibly tenses at the news, Rossi speaking first, "Two kills in less than three days."
Hotch looks at JJ and before he can even say anything, she's out of her seat, "I'll call the local PD, tell them we're on our way."
Hotch nods his approval, turning his stoic gaze to the rest of his team, "Get your bags ready, we're flying out as soon as the jet is ready."
***
It is getting boring and y/n had been right to be worried. 
That's the first thing that crosses her mind as she wakes up next to Elle, hours later, in a nameless city in the middle of nowhere. 
Elle lays peacefully next to her, deep into slumber, and a smile stretches y/n's lips. She watches her girlfriend's chest rise and fall, her naked body barely covered by the sheets. It's a hot night, y/n can feel the sweat in her lower back making it uncomfortable for her to fall back asleep. As she gets up from the bed, Elle moves, getting closer to where y/n lay seconds ago, chasing the heat despite the already too high temperature. 
y/n lets herself watch her for a moment before walking to sit on the chair next to the window. There's nothing to look at, the motel they'd chosen is outside of the city and the lights are barely visible. It's dark, except for the slight light of the moon landing on the cars outside. 
She feels empty tonight. The thrill she'd felt hours ago hadn't lasted long and the only thing she could remember about it was the look Elle had thrown her way. 
Fear.
Elle had always looked at her with interest. From the moment they met, y/n had been drawn in by her hazel eyes. Something in her made her feel safe in a way she never had before and days after meeting her, she had told Elle about her unpleasant memories, how the world wasn't a nice place.
Elle had listened and, to y/n's surprise, agreed with the statement. Usually, whenever y/n told people about the ugliness of the world, they tried to make her see the parts that weren't so bad, try to make her see that some things, and some people were worth it. Elle hadn't done any of that, she had scoffed and agreed.
"Only person you can trust is yourself. The rest? Always leads to disappointment."
They had ended up in bed together soon after that, spent the night in each other's arms and imagining a world that'd be worth their time. 
Two days later, they had killed their first man together.
Their routine hasn't changed in nearly four years, and it used to be enough for y/n. She's the bait, easily transforming herself into whoever the men want to see in front of them. She pretends to be too drunk, unstable on her feet, asking for help to walk back to her place or her car, and the men never think twice before following her. 
Elle waits for them and then. She shoots. 
And it used to be enough for y/n to watch the proud look on Elle's face anytime she made a perfect shot. Smoking gun in hand and a confident smirk, y/n had never seen anything sexier in her entire life. 
What followed was always a passionate kiss and hurried hands, trying to touch every inch of skin. 
Earlier, y/n hadn't even kissed Elle, the only contact between them being the arm that Elle had thrown around her shoulder. 
y/n can feel that there's something not quite right. She feels it in her body, in the way her arms itch, in the way her chest feels a bit too empty for her too breath comfortably. 
y/n loves Elle, there's no way that has changed. She's sure of it. When she turns her head to watch Elle sleep, her heart flutters at the sight of her girlfriend curled up on the side of the bed that she had vacated. She couldn't see it, but she could picture her girlfriend's face, mouth slightly open if she were to believe the little snores she could hear. 
She is just bored of the routine. 
When she finally climbs back into bed with Elle, her girlfriend automatically drapes a hand over her waist. 
"Where did you go?" Elle asks sleepily, and y/n lays a kiss on her nose. It makes her scrunch up her face and that's the cutest sight she's ever seen. 
"Couldn't sleep."
Elle hums and goes back to sleep. y/n sighs and follows suit, not long after. 
***
"What's this, on the palm?" Morgan asks the M.E., pointing at the left hand of the victim where the skin seems slightly bruised.
The doctor on the other side of the autopsy table nods at Derek and Spencer, "His hand was broken post-mortem, although I'm having a hard time figuring out what broke it."
Reid leaned closer to the hand and frowned, "It looks like something was pushed from the palm to the other side."
Again, the doctor nods, but before she can say anything else, Reid suddenly stands up straight and looks over at Morgan, "I know what did this."
At that moment, Morgan's phone rings and upon seeing Hotch's name, he excuses himself to reply. When he comes back, his face looks somber.
"A man was killed not far from here, local PD just got the call. Hotch wants us to check it out, just in case."
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1990jeevas · 3 years
Text
Braid Me a Home
summary:
"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”
It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.
“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”
“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.” 
or
A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.
word count: 2.5k
warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)
a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]
When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.
Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.
Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.
From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.
Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.
It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.
Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.
Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.
It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.
Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.
Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.
So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.
Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.
When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.
Well. Not too too different.
Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-
Right. This is about Tommy.
When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.
If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—
Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.
So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.
Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.
It was Wednesday afternoon.
Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.
Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.
When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.
Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.
Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.
“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.
Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.
That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.
At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.
Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”
Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.
When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.
It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.
“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”
It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.
“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”
“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”
Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.
Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.
As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.
Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.
In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.
Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.
And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.
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yournameyn · 3 years
Text
Feeling Deeply
Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage fic.
Pairing: Namjoon x OC
A/N: Aaaaaa this is the first fic I'm posting ever ever. It's basically a way to follow the red thread of my desires. OC is named Brishti. She's Indian. She's Bengali & curvy & an introvert. This whole fic is 90% going to be a slow burn fluff fic about two introvert nerds getting to know each other. Seriously there's like hardly any real angst, maybe slight angst about okay when are these two going to bang - if you look very carefully but basically its just slooooow fluuuufff. Hopefully you all like it. Please let me know what you think. Current Chapter: This one is loooong. Remember this is all happening in the 1960s. OC & Namjoon are both really well off first gen immigrants. In this chapter we have our couple coming closer together - talking about some issues they've both had in their lives. Also this is the chapter where you'll get to know one of my favourite Namjoon songs and like why the OC is named what she's named. Also just a reminder because im a bit paranoid - Rim Jhim (referred to as Rim) is our OC Brishti. Its a pet name that's introduced in this chapter. And Namjoon being the wordsmith that he is makes it shorter, with the korean meaning of the word.
Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface-ish Chapter 1
Chapter 2
And so it went for the next few days, the two of them quietly discovering each other. They were finding out the normal, casual, small things - how he didn’t like mint chocolate, how she loved bitter black coffee. Since both of them worked, they decided to split the chores at home. It worked out great because Namjoon liked to sweep & Brishti loved to do the dishes. They both struggled to cook but they decided to learn how to cook each other’s cuisines. So she was learning how to make kimchi (the green onion one) & he was learning how to prepare daal (the yellow one). They split the rent & decided to create a separate bank account for their savings. Talking about money increased warmth because they discovered that neither valued it excessively.
Slowly, they began talking about things a little more intimate. Meanings of names were revealed. She was impressed that his name meant genius. And he loved that hers meant rain. Pet names were introduced. He called her Rim - an even shorter version of her daak naam Rim Jhim. He told her to call him Joon. She looked away, smiling, then - silently telling him they’re not there yet. What he didn’t tell her was that he was already making up a fairytale about Joon, the genius & Rim, the brilliant jade that makes him so.
They spoke about books the most. Between them, they had half the globe's literature covered. She had read Indian authors & Russian & Spanish ones. He loved Korean authors, Japanese literature & all the Greek Classics. He geeked out about philosophy & poetry while she nerded over nature writing & music. They spoke about how they might take a look at other European writers & musicians together. To that end, Namjoon brought home a book of love poems by Rilke.
He hadn’t told her that he wrote poetry too. He hadn’t mentioned anything because it seemed like an indulgence of the past, poetry. But that night everything changed. After a late dinner, Brishti had asked to read aloud from the book he’d brought. As she read ‘To Music’, Namjoon saw tears float in her eyes. Secretly, something inside him had wept too. And just like that, he knew he would begin writing soon.
Each week the two watched late shows of classic hollywood musicals in a nearby theatre because they’d decided against a tv in their home - opting, instead, for a record player. Meeting for a movie each of the two Fridays they’d spent together so far was an experience both looked forward to - not only for the movie. In the darkness of the movie theatre, they experienced the first glimpses of intimacy. Soft smiles, whispering, silent glances, hands caressing each other. He loved how she laughed with abandon. She loved that he would tear up during the emotional scenes.
Her smile was getting wider, warmer toward him, Namjoon noted everyday. He’d been sleeping separately since their wedding night because he wanted her to feel safe. He was mostly okay with that except if he thought about it… If he thought about a time when he would get to touch her - Namjoon almost felt dizzy with feelings.
This happened the most when he saw her read by the window, he ached to touch her. That was her - Brishti - that was who she was at her core. Reading, running her fingers through her short hair, staring out the window, thinking, looking at clouds & then going back to reading. She was still quiet, but less so. She spoke about the rain and the trees and when she was happiest, he learned, when she really trusted that no one was going to judge her, she spoke about the moon. It had happened twice in the last few days.
He couldn’t stop looking at her. As though that needed reasoning, he thought about it at the office too. It wasn’t the only answer he could come up with but Namjoon had never seen a body like hers. She didn’t seem brittle or delicate, the way most women looked - or were “supposed to look”. She didn’t care what a body is supposed to look like, at least, it seemed that way to him. Brishti’s curves were not subtle. She was short and while almost everyone was shorter than him, Brishti was just… sexily so. She’d do these things… seemingly normal, everyday things but they would quickly, embarrassingly, inspire an arousal in him. Like, that thing she did, when she stretched after waking up or even if she stretched her arms or her neck… for some reason that turned him on so much, he’d have to hide… or excuse himself. His breath hitched, everytime he thought about how he hadn’t still actually seen her body.
Brishti, too, enjoyed looking at him from afar. Sharing, creating a living space with a man was never something she thought she would enjoy. They had exchanged the basic stories of how they had reached each other.
Namjoon had said, “I’d met a couple of women… girls… but they just seemed either plastic or porcelain… you know? I mean, not all of them could have been that but that's how they… presented themselves? You… I saw your photos in a pile that the matchmaker labelled ‘rubbish’”
“What?!”
“Yeah… I’m sorry but it’s actually a compliment to be labelled ‘bad’ by a matchmaker. That’s why I was looking in that pile in the first place… when I heard you wanted to keep working… Honestly I was so relieved...”
She smiled, “At least you got a look at me… I didn’t even know what you looked like till we met. I had no choice at all. A boy had agreed to marry me - despite… me… so that was the end of it. That was the bargain with my brother… otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to work either.”
“Wow… I’m so sorry, Rim. That’s really… really unfair.”
“Hmm yeah… I just figured if I can keep earning & the man turns out to be wrong, at least I can leave.”
“That’s… thanks for not leaving...”
Brishti smiled, “I got lucky...”
Namjoon understood, then, that Brishti might be an introvert but that did not mean she was shy. She made him blush & laugh. She made him speak without inhibition. The more time he spent with her, his feelings poured out.
“Thanks… It’s been really nice to share this home with you. Just to have you to talk to… My life was not going that great...” he said.
Brishti nodded, even though she already knew this. Whatever he said, strangely, she could see a deeper melancholy behind it. They spoke about being strangers in a strange country. She told him how she had to fight at the library for Tagore to be considered classic literature. How she was slowly but surely, being accepted in the oddball group that ran the library. She was not the only non-english person there, so things were easier for her. Besides, true readers had always been more accepting of the different.
Something made her regret sharing her happiness about this because his struggle in this foreign land was far more intense… she could sense pain behind the words he used. Namjoon did not enjoy his job the way she did. He worked overtime most days and came home bone-tired. Kim Namjoon was in many ratraces at the same time - races Brishti felt he didn’t want to participate at all. Being a lawyer, being an asian - the ‘model minority’, being a slightly well-off Korean in a sea of white men, in a sea of less fortunate asians who were being treated much worse than him. Trying to create a name, an identity of his own was wearing him out... chipping away at his soul.
Brishti sometimes saw him and saw a great banyan cutting itself down, trying to be a shrub just to fit in. When she asked him how his day was, he always smiled. It was real, the smile and yet it couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. Something that was beginning to bother Brishti more and more, these days. He... had begun to matter more and more these days.
Now, about two weeks into their marriage, she was experiencing butterflies about the smallest things; Things like watching him sleep on the fold out, bringing him coffee in the morning. She felt a pull deep inside her take over when he would come out of the shower in the bathrobe, skin glistening from the shower & musky man-scents launching her body in a fantastical arousal & her mind in overdrive. Somedays, Brishti even went for a shower after he’d been, just so she could soak in his essence & bathe in a trance she had never felt before.
On their third weekend together, Namjoon didn’t have to go to work the whole weekend. He’d spoken to his superior at the firm to let him have weekends free - after all, he was married now. Post lunch that Saturday, Brishti and he kept unpacking, organising while talking (well, later on, it was just coffee & talking) into the early hours of Sunday. They spoke about things they loved, people they had loved. About fictional crushes and real ones. Both of them spoke about their past relationships. Something Brishti was delighted about - especially since Namjoon told her he was not the type to hold someone’s past against them.
Brishti couldn’t believe it when Namjoon had correctly guessed, “It was the photographer, right?”
“What-?! How- Where- How did you…?” Brishti couldn’t even form a question.
“Your photos, at the matchmakers… something was different. All the other pictures women give out for arranged matches seem... fake. Yours were… real… private. You looked comfortable… looked like you were being teased...” What he didn’t say was how much it seemed in those pictures like she was with someone she truly liked… maybe even loved.
Sat on the ground opposite Namjoon, Brishti kept her gaze on him. It unnerved Namjoon that she could really see him. She unnerved him further when she said, “You should say what you aren’t saying… or… asking?”
“Did you love him?”
“Not really… it was just... a different kind of friendship… ended almost as soon as it began. But I- I don’t regret it. It wasn’t the kind of love-” she trailed off. She looked away, smiling but trying to hide it. The same way she had in the photograph.
He pressed further just to tease her “Kind of love...?” Namjoon was intrigued because she was blushing now & he wanted to plant a thousand pecks on her. Instead he said, “So you can just… stop what you were saying? Mmm. Okay. I see.”
She looked at him then, “I’m feeling… a lot… of… different things these days. Especially because of a couple of dimples...”
Just like that, she turned the tables & his dimples appeared. He blushed, “Yeah… same. I mean… you don’t have dimples but I’ve-”
She nodded to let him know she understood. And then asked, “Uhm... Have you… had sex?”
Namjoon bit his lip, “Yeah… yes. I... had a girlfriend in law school. It… uh… wasn’t serious… for her.”
Brishti looked away nodding, as if stopping herself from saying something.
He looked at her… knowing what she probably wanted to say. He wanted to hug her but he only said, “It doesn’t matter, does it? For me it doesn’t. Doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex too… I know how people can be about virginity… I- honestly… it's just another way to control people.”
She looked at him with a mixture of emotions. She took a minute to compose herself & then said, “I’ve never met a man like you… and it's a little confusing and annoying… Not that you are annoying… not at all. It’s just the world is annoying because this is how low the standard is for a man. A man accepting that the woman has a past makes him… forward…? But of course the woman has to… because, well, he’s a man and he has needs. We’re all told that… Shirley... who works with me… she knows it too. Women just aren’t supposed to talk about their pasts. All women.”
She paused & got flustered further because of how dedicatedly Namjoon had been listening. It really seemed as if he was taking notes. The serious expression on his face, it made Brishti's ears feel hot. Almost as a distraction, she went on -
“It's crazy but that seems to be the only thing THE WHOLE WORLD has agreed on - they can’t agree on one way to make bread but they all agreed that women are inferior. It’s such a basic thing to just let me work… because I want to… but it's annoying that it makes me feel lucky. My best friend had to go through hell because she thought she could trust her husband with the truth about her past… so it makes me feel lucky that… you won’t…”
Namjoon could see the pain in her words. Maybe that’s how she could always sense the pain in his words, he thought.
After a calming silence passed over them, he spoke - “I won’t. I don’t really know what it’s like for a woman. And… maybe you won’t like to hear this, but… I was the same, Rim... I was the man my society had trained me to be. Everything changed when I came here. When, for the first time in my life, I understood what it’s like to be treated inferior. Since then, I just… I cannot be the cause of a feeling like that within anyone... So… you’re right. I’m not doing anything everyone shouldn’t already do. All of this should be normal. Expected. Hopefully the world learns a bit faster…”
Brishti smiled at Namjoon. She chuckled when tears pooled up in her eyes. He instinctively reached out for her & placed a hand on her leg, just below her knee. A jolt went through Brishti and she looked surprised. He did too. Namjoon retracted his hand immediately & looked away, blushing. That’s when Brishti laughed out loud. She stood up. And asked him to stand up, silently.
He did. It always made Brishti’s heart flutter just how gorgeous and tall he was. Someday, she would tell him. Someday, she would show him. For now, she couldn’t help feeling bashful as she asked, “Can I get a hug, Joon?”
This was the first time she’d used the pet name that he’d asked her to call him by. This was what his family called him. And her using this name assured Namjoon of just that - she was becoming family. Her question had made his heart flip. He moved without really thinking, because this is what his body had wanted since the day he saw her. He pulled her up in his arms. He felt like he was melting. She was soft. Warm. Beautiful. And in his arms.
Brishti gasped a little when Namjoon had scooped her up in his arms. She was on her toes, literally & figuratively. She held onto him, less as a hug & more as support… at first. Then, she felt his arms… the strong arms that she had been ogling at, around her. It was as if a knot came undone, within her, suddenly. And in its place, the softest silk suddenly flowed through her body.
She closed her eyes and breathed him in. The same essence that she’d been soaking in after he had showered, that she had been breathing in whenever he would pass by or reach past her. The essence that she had now become so hungry for that she had been secretly sleeping with the shirt he’d worn from the laundry basket. That essence was now all over her. Her chin turned up, resting on his shoulders, her cheeks touching his, her hands - on their own - reached the nape of his neck and began to play with his hair.
When she did that, Namjoon held her tighter, pressed her on to him. He felt her body react to his. One hand reaching her shoulder around her back, he moved the other closer to her waist, so his hands could fold over her curves. He could feel her breath hitch when he did that.
Brishti was revelling in the feeling of his hands, his fingers, feeling his fingertips press into her - that was a feeling she could never have imagined making her so... so... drunk. She was drunk. She ran her hands up and down his vast back, all the way up to his hair. All of a sudden she could feel herself overcome with emotion. Tears began pooling in her eyes again. And she said, before it was too late, she said, “Thank you, Joon, for everything… thank you.”
When he heard the tremble in her voice, Namjoon pulled away, just so he could see her. Brishti quickly retracted too - to wipe off her tears, trying to laugh off the silliness, apologising. Namjoon replied, “It’s okay… I understand… I… Thank you, Rim. I hope you… you know what I mean...” What he wanted to say, what he hoped she understood was that she was what was helping him come alive. But being unable to, Namjoon knew someday he would. Someday soon.
Brishti nodded to say she understood. Namjoon tried to lighten the atmosphere, saying, “You’re not… just anyone, you know? So… maybe you should tell me something I could do which is… not just basic decency, but something that can be considered truly feminist, you know. I’d love to do that for you.”
Brishti smiled and nodded. She suddenly felt tired & almost of its own accord, her body stretched into a yawn. She said, “I’ll think of something. We- I should go now… Do you want- anything?...” Brishti was delighted about how drunk she had gotten from one hug. It was exciting that she knew she’d be sleeping with the sweater he had tossed in the laundry basket tonight. She decided to take a bit more time to enjoy being intoxicated without a substance, together and alone.
Later that night, as Namjoon laid on his fold out sofa, alone, he thought of how great it had felt to have Brishti in his arms. To have someone who wanted to know about his day. To feel her heartbeat, like raindrops, knocking on his chest like it was a window pane, almost as if asking to be let in…
Thoughts like these, they made Namjoon reach for the notepad & pen that he always kept close by. He wrote. He wrote of being world weary and suddenly having a friend. Suddenly feeling like the world wasn't rushing him, that he didn’t need to run, that he could take time, be slow, be a poet. His heart tugged at his pen as it wrote lines about what it felt like to have someone cry for him. To have someone be full of feelings for him, to have someone to embrace his weary body. He wrote about how he missed that embrace and yet it was okay… as long as she was still here, maybe not just next to him, yet. Maybe someday. It was okay because she asked how he was every day and Brishti was here, forever. Namjoon felt tears run down his own face, as he titled the first poem he’d written in almost five years - Forever Rain.
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Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please please let me know what you thought! Get into my messages about it! I would love nothing more than to hear what you felt about this!
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popculturebuffet · 3 years
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House of Mouse: Max’s Embarrassing Date Review
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Hello House Mouses and welcome back to the house of mouse. Another comission by Kev and my second House of Mouse for the valentine’s season. This time we’re not tackling a Valentine’s Episode necesarily, but a romantic one all the same as fan faviorite couple Max and Roxanne finally go on a date.  I always liked Max. Even as a kid when I wasn’t the biggest fan of “A Goofy Movie”, didn’t like the darker patches like the principals office scene or the Pete Hot tub scene.. though in hindsight both had legit greviances with Max... it just dosen’t make either less terrible as the principal still told an innocnet man who wasn’t responsible for what his kid did and was trying his best that his son was going to become a crminal because of one stupid but mostly harmless prank, and Pete.. is just an abusive, unlikeable and unlovable ass in both Goof Troop and Goofy Movie, and I hate how he treats his son, don’t blame his wife for leaving him or taking their daughter and dog, and am really sad he got custody of PJ somehow. And for the record this isn’t ALL petes, just this version. The rest are fine and just the right level of asshole. 
Point is despite my problems with the first film, I had none with the second and even now I like it due to having some really good ideas and concepts while also being gloirously rediclous due to the loveably dated X-Games element. While I do have a spot in my heart for the Dana Hill and Shaun Fleming versions, especially the latter once upon a christmas is awesome, Jason Marsden’s version is the best by the mile having the right amount of ego mixed with self doubt to make him likeable enough to brook him being an ass to his dad a lot. He’s a good character.. and it baffles me Disney NEVER uses him nowadays. No really, the last time he showed up was in twice upon a christmas and no one liked that because he was dating someone who wasn’t Roxanne just to rehash the same plot they’d already rehashed better in Extremley Goofy Movie. I REALLY need to rewatch that one. Hmm.... gonna see if I can squeeze that one into May or later in April. That’s for another time. 
But yeah while he’s at one of the disney parks, that’s it. The character just .. vanished, and hasn’t been brought back in any way shape or form. Though I could see either a Disney Plus reboot of goof troop or a goofy movie with max having his own kids. That could be intresting. Also bring Roxanne back as weirdly this episode i’m reviewing, a goofy movie and now her ducktales cameo are her ONLY apperances. 
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Seriously I get she’s not the most fleshed out.. but then flesh her out. Like Max she’s crminally underused and while I get her absence as a character in the sequel, the plot really didn’t need her, he still could’ve been dating her off screen. Though clearly the two worked things out and tried again as this episode came out AFTER extremely did. But did this episode work out? Join me under the cut to find out. 
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As i’ve decided is my standard for House of Mouse Episodes, shorts first, then wraparound, then Mickey Mouse live sex celebration. Though I will say i’ve picked up there are two kinds of formats for the show: They either use two of the longer Mouseworks shorts or just one close to 11 minute short, a medium one, and one of the little two minute segments. There might be a break from this in the future, we shall see but for now those ar ethe two standards. This time we have two longer shorts. 
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Pluto’s Penthouse Sweet: 
I’ve mentioned in the past I dont’ really get why Pluto is part of Disney’s sensational six along with Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Goofy and Daisy. And I stand by that: While he’s had his own cartoons they just aren’t as entertaining and creative as MIckey’s or hilarous and relatable as Donald and Goofy’s. He’s just an average cartoon dog. He works fine in tandem with Mickey, but on his own he’s just nothing and his spot should be taken by pete, who while not a goodie all the time, again the goof troop version needs to step on a rake and fall into a well.. somehow. i didn’t think my insult through. Point is pete is better.  And this short isn’t BAD .. but to me it’s what some fans THINK the disney shorts are: Bland, maybe one or two good jokes but almost nothing new or intresting. As I found out last year, that’s far from the case, as a lot of the Donald shorts are still hilarious today and a lot of the mickey shorts are shockingly creative, like Thru The Mirorr where he goes .. well thru the mirror into a wonderland like world where all the inanaimate objects are alive and he can shrink and what not via astral projection, or Mickey’s Mechanical Man, which I sadly didn’t know about when I did the MIckey Birthday Special and for some reason isn’t on disne plus. In it Mickey creates a robot and has it box a monsterous looking gorillia. 
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How has Mickey piloting this thing but giant sized against various kaiju been a thing yet? And if it has someone tell me. Seriously with all the comics and animated series how. I’d even settle for a Wonderful World of Mickey Mouse episode. Just bring this guy back. Point is there was far more invetnion than it seemed.. at least at first as it slowly died out as they went by the late 50′s. But Pluto just seemed even in their hayday like your standard pet gets into antics thing without the creative slapstick of tom and jerry or the likeablity of sylvester who never could get that asshole Tweety Bird. This is just weak sauce and whiel I could forgive the older shorts, as their from another time and likely lead to say Tom and Jerry... I can’t forgive this which was made probably in 1998 and released in 1999 originally. Comedy had evolved a LOT by that point and unlike the Goofy how to shorts, which are a format that is immortal and still evolved to match the times and felt fresh, these just feel stale and boring and like the last Pluto short I covered this one was a chore to sit through though not nearly AS bad. 
Still though the premise is about the same, Pluto’s left to his own devices, and finds a female dog, though in this case she’s VERY intrested in him. I”m also not entirley convinced she’s a dog, but instead one of Jumba’s experiments and that Lilo and Stitch later had to journey to.. wherever these shorts take place to fetch him. Or more likely the house of mouse. I mean Proud Family, Recess, American Dragon Jake Long and Kim Possible all take place int hat universe, why can’t house of mouse? Also tell me you wouldn’t watch an avengers style team consisting of Kim, Ron, Jake, Penny, Probably TJ, Lilo, Stitch and Donald Duck. If you wouldn’t i’d call you a liar because you would be. 
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Seriously the eyes give her away.... just look at them. Very experimenty. But before Pluto can do it like they do on the discovery channel he has to get past the guard dog.. though how he does produces the one great gag of the short, as he BUILDS A GIANT, TROJAN HORSE ESQUE PLUTO OUT OF JUNK. Just holy shit that’s awesome> It gets him inside, only for him to find his lady friend is a bit TOO affectionate and he has to escape, he does so, and MIckey wonders if he missed him etc lame button. This short was a vacuum of comedy outside of GIANT PLUTO. Seriously where’s my disney giant mecha series. YOu have five main characters, and Pluto among with MANY, MANY side characters, frmo scrooge to the boys to hopefully Della, to even possibly pete and mortimer who could have their own mech against the heroes but maybe join them in the last episode. Maybe max and pj could have some, have a father vs son thing with PJ and Pete. I”m just saying, i’d watch it. I know my nieces would watch it. I know my nephews would watch it. Greenlight it. Or i’ll make it.. somehow. 
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How to Ride a Bike: Speaking of the How To Shorts, as usual for the House of Mouse era ones.. this was awesome, pretty much what you’d expect, some goofy, pardon the pun, gags about goofy riding a bike and then a fun climax of him in a bike race. Not a ton to add, other than that hamster bike above is genius. Just needs some tweaking. Really funny, really simple, and really good as you’d expect from a good Goofy Short. Easily the best part of the episode. 
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Max’s Embarrassing Date: So this was a disapointment. Like i’d try to be nice.. but I had high hopes given this brought Roxanne back, and while the premise was stock maybe they’d do something funny with with it. 
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But no the plot is pretty standard, very predictable and fairly obnoxious. Max has a date with Roxanne, and is playing it cool and what not, but is worried his dad will find out.. which he somehow did offscreen. Probably Clarabelle.. I mean they do go out sometimes in this one, wouldn’t surprise me. 
So Max pleads with the rest of the HOM staff to keep him away because he fears his dad will overdo things, which.. is fair and one of the few things I like> He dosen’t want him to overdo it on the mood because this is well.. a first date. He dosen’t want to pressure her or himself and just wants it to be nice and calm. The problem is it’s framed like him once again being embarassed by his dad and having to learn better.
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At this point we’d had TWO movies do this already, one of which was only two years old at the time of this episode. This plot is stale as old toast even if it dind’t have goofy in it. And the twist is predictable: the HOM crew end up also overdoing it: Minnie comments on how cute they are and wants candles brought, Daisy gets them a bigger table forgetting how dates work,t hough we do get a great gag of hte 7 dwarves stacked, and Mickey while having .. some.. gopher? I honestly can’t tell who it was, usually i’m better at the cameos. Speaking of which they also have a runner of beast going on a date with Cruella Devile. 
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I mean is he cheating on his wife? Is she holding his wife hostage? Is this before belle because we see a post transfomratoin beast too so maybe the House of Mouse is an intersection of space and time? That’s.. actually the most resonable answer I can think of honestly and when i’m focusing more on how the hell your gag works than how funny it is, you clearly failed somewhere along the line. 
Point is Mickey puts his good friend in a pothole, and not only calls max little max, which while an understnadably close family thing to do is still embarassing, but also takes pictures while their eating the spagetthi.. which i’m 100% sure was Huey’s idea nad had Mickey not interrupted, would’ve been tied up down the middle for a lady and the tramp thing. It’s his signature move. Well that and having a panic attack. That’s also one of mine the others being lettterkenny refrences and sex jokes about disney characters.  But yeah this just.. dosen’t work. Them being as embarassing? that’d be fine.. if they weren’t wholly unsympathetic for not only keeping their friend from WELL INTEITONEDLY trying to help his son on his date, something his son shold have no problem with since ROXANNE’S MET HIM. AND IS FINE WITH HIM. AND NEVER CARED ABOUT YOU BEING HIS SON LIKE THE DICKHEADS AT SCHOOL. MINUS BOBBY WHO YOUR FRIENDS WITH FOR SOME REASON. My point is this plot bothers me a lot, and it makes the mickey crew come off like assholes for doing this to thier friend instead of just talking to him like a person. Especially since only ONE of them is a parent and Conviently donald is mostly absent. Likely because he realized this was going to end badly and just agreed to tie the spagetthi like huey taught him to keep his involvment in this shit show and gaslighting his best friend to a minimum. 
Eventually Mickey takes things a step too far and has Sebastian almost sing kiss the girl. Max cuts him off though yelling that he just wants them to back off, he just wants them to relax and he TOLD them this, which makes them come off worse as they KNEW he didn’t want this and did it anyway and never apologize becaue apparently the first rule of house of mouse is never apologize for anything, huh huh. Goofy naturally steps in, tells them off and agrees to serve them and Roxanne finds him entertaining and gives him a nose kiss for being a good dad. He’s a good guy that Goof.  Roxanne then whispers something in max’s ear at the end of the date... which gives him an audible erection. No really. And given his age is vauge here I’m suddenly super duper uncomfortable so let’s move on. 
So max tells them she liked it and wants to come back.. 100% sure that wasn’t what she said but what she said isn’t fit to print and you’ve seen what i’ve said and what I put in the we’ll be right back. Point is he’s happy, though Mickey says we’ll try to make it extra special next time. Mickey.. did you do a space mountain’s worth of pills and cokea nd just forget the entire evening? Did you take some of those hangover roofies/ Why would you do that? Was that pete’s new plan to steal the house of mouse? To drug you guys and make you forget you already paid the rent? Did PJ stop him? Inquiring me wants to know. 
Final Thoughts: Yeah this wasn’t a very good episode. Roxanne is wasted despite having a suitable replacment Roxanne voice in Grey Delise, with no real depth just to rehash the plot of the first and second goofy movies. And this one didn’t have an inexpilicable beatnik cafe, PJ getting laid and finally being happy for once, a standard college fraternity plot  surgeically infused with an out of nowhere obession with xtreme sports that was nowhere in the first film, Goofy in an afro, Goofy finding love, That disco sequence, and a climax in which Goofy carries Brad Garret out of a fire, then Brad Garret probably kills the villian of the film who certainly deserved it. My points are this episode was an underwhelming rehash only saved by some good shippy moments and a good goofy short. It was weak, not all that funny, and not all that intersting.  My other point is that an extremley goofy movie is awesome and also kinda insane and I love it for that. I’m glad I saw this one but i’m really disapointed in how bleh it was. Next time I visit the house of mouse is.. actually in a few days as Pete Does a One Man Show. So yeah already 100% better just by having THAT musical number in it, see you then and if not, there’s always another rainbow. 
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everyothermouse · 3 years
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A lil group portrait of the time au adventuring gang!! Them <333
Basically tol fucked up as a kid and is now on the run from the law, but realized that since his life was so crazy he could live off of telling stories of his wacky adventures. When he met Jay he wanted him to come with him, and when he found out jay couldn't come cus he was virtually a demon/god/magic magnet he decided he NEEDED to bring him to capitalize on how it'd make more cool stories. And yeah it worked so since then he's been collecting wackos to aaa go crazy aaaa go stupid (and also bcus safety I numbers or whateva, pop and pip are also criminals and pastel and jay are crimes against god <3) more about each individual under the cut!
Doin them from left to right :)
Pastel: died when she was messing around with some friends and got stuck under a big rock and left to starve. But because of a fluke in the underworld her God decided to resurrect her, a right usually only belonging to saints. Because of this she's now poorly pretending that she totally did something to deserve being revived (she tells a different story every time someone asks, she thinks it's funny) to avoid being persecuted for suspected witchcraft. She met Jay when they were both drunk and they had fun fucking around in the city, and she spilled the beans to him that she was revived for no reason. She regretted it, but jay didn't kill her because even though he's religious he knew what it felt like to be magically cursed and have everyone be pissed at u for it. Also she's really funny with jay so tol begged her to come with them to add more Comedy(tm) to his memoirs
Pop: a time traveller and angel who is trying to hide both of those facts but only really succeeding at hiding the time travel thing. When they were a kid they traveled to this time with his friends Lustre and Cherrybomb, but when they were attacked by the vicious royal guard they weren't able to escape without leaving Lustre behind. Cherrybomb super repressed that memory, and while pop recovered from some minor injuries they vowed to never time travel again. Yeah they only kept that up until they were like 15, but they still couldn't bring themself to go back to when they left Lustre. But now they're 26 (well technically they're like 33 but in their time their supposed to be 26) living with their boyfriend cherrybomb and have years of time travel experience under their belt, and they're ready to go back. Except they can't go back because they created a travel block for themself by accident because of how upsetting the event was, so instead they traveled as close as they could, about 10 years in the future of the time. Now they search for any form of closure, all they need to know is what happened to their friend, and they will do whatever it takes to find this out. But angels aren't super welcome in the past, especially not with uncut wings, so it's not exactly easy for them to navigate this time period. But after a while of their search they met two lovely children (well young adults), a demon and a "cursed" (nowadays they call em spiritually gifted) and felt so bad for how much the world seemed to be against them they decided they could travel with them, just for a bit, to protect them. They tried not to get attached. They failed. They're in it for the long run now aren't they TwT also as they explore this time and learn more about the gods, they start to realize that they might... be the God of longevity???? Or at least an older version of them became them? Time travel is fucked man
Btw Lustre plays a big role in this plot, her hyper futuristic knowledge, 'blessed' white eyes, and strange God gifted clothing would all lead to him rising to a much different role than fugitive rather quickly, but they're not who this post is about ;) also I'm gonna go bottom to top for the 3 in the middle let's go
Lune: just a little guy :) lune is a young rancher/gardener who worships the God of the wood, who kind of goes missing sometimes and is lowkey the least loyal God but shhhh he loves them. Lune and tol were childhood friends (along with their pal cleo) but on one of their little excursions tol took something very important to a very powerful king, and refused to give it back. As retribution the king destroyed their entire town, and cleo put all the blame on tol, tol and lune both knew lune had to take the side against tol in order to not have the town turn on him. So yeah he moved with the town to bring up a brand new farm, long awaiting the day when tol would come home and say that things were OK and they could settle back in town together, hopefully with cleo too. That didn't happen, but tol did come back and peer pressure lune into part time adventuring with him! So yeah generally lune just runs his lil farm and prays, but when tol comes to pick him up he gets a chance to go be free to act batshit crazy, just like when he was a kid 🥰
Pipes: DEmon! One time lune and tol had a little squabble so lune was like 'im gonna get a new best friend and ur gonna regret this' and tol was like 'yeah right, u live with a bunch of criminals right now no one's gonna wanna be ur bestie dumbass' so lune just walked into a cave at night and dragged out this little nonverbal demon because demons who live alone in caves don't have high standards for friends. Even tho it was just a ploy to make tol jealous lune went super hard on it and now pipes is actually friends with the gang lmaoo
Tol: like I said with lunes, stole something important from a king as a kid, monarch got pissed, blew up the town, town got pissed at tol for it, and since then he's been on the run because he's too stubborn to give back the damn thing (they could have just attacked HIM for it, but since la queen decided to fuck with his town, his family, tol thinks he doesn't deserve to have it back.) He had to run from town to town and got into a lot of danger in his attempts at finding places to hide, but he lacks fear and tended to fight stuff off. As a kid he found that he could get enough pity to be welcomed into towns if he told people he had to fight a monster to get there, so he told stories at every town and camp he went to of his hardships. But as he got older, those he stayed with beckoned him to keep talking, and more and more people said they had heard of his adventures. And that's when when it clicked, his shining ticket to true freedom wasn't a place, it was his stories. They gave him food, shelter, fun, memories, a life. So he made it his mission to never settle down, to make his life as crazy as possible and to talk about it as much as possible, and if he ever ran out of energy to adventure, he'd spend the rest of his dying days writing and writing his entire life story. He thought this was a life he'd live alone, but one day he sought refuge in jays little lonely house because he thought it was abonded, luckily though Jay had just been praying for a second chance at life and decided that considering the timing, tol must be that second chance. So yeah jay patched him up, found out on his monthly supply route he was harboring someone very wanted, and took care of tol even harder because he didn't know or care why he was wanted, he just knew that anyone who had a drawing of them as a child on a wanted poster definitely didn't deserve it. So yeah they're besties now.
AAA I wrote out a really long description for jay but tumblr glitched and I lost it :'O ble here's a shorter rewrite cus I'm not writing out that whole thing again >:P
Jay: brought up in a church village,, he was born with the curse, which allows him to tap into magical properties very easily, and be very easily controlled, manipulated, and possessed by them. This allowed him to be very connected with his god (the god of longevity) but also meant he was often treated as a security risk and a monster by the adults of his town since he could let in evil spirits so easily. He spent most of his time praying and he became obsessed with acting on compulsions (repeated prayer, overscrubbing, scratching himself, touching religious things until he felt like he touched them "right") because he believed they were messages from God and would prevent him from becoming evil (look he was a teenager and everyone told him he was a monster his whole life leave him be.) He gets possessed twice, mage as a rep of the town is like "either have ur cursed removed or leave town forever" (uncursing is only hypothetically possible, it's hella dangerous) and he's scared itd sever his connection to his god so he leaves and he's upset bcus his entire life plan was built around his church, so now he's livin alone on a hill and leaving like once a month, he stays up there and sews and prays mostly, he sort of works on himself and becomes vaguely mentally stable, so he prays for a second chance at life since he lost his original path and needs a sign where to go, and then boom tol shows up and the rest is history. Now he has his own little family and things are going great :) other than the still getting possessed like once a week but shhhh
Pip: in between the entrance to hell and the religious central of the continent is a little town that sides with neither. They mostly fuck around and find out, and in this town lives a monster researcher and her less formal wife, pip! Pip is just a silly goofy little guy livin life, and when the crazy bunch shows up she feels like he's finally found her people :3 and for the first time the group gains a member who's begging to join them as opposed to the other way around
Ya and together they all go on wacky lil adventures with demons and monsters and monarchs and what not.
Tldr pastel is a funny lil dead guy, pop is a time traveller and the Adult of the team, lunes a lil farmer man, pipes a hobo demon they picked up off the side of the road, tols a little criminal demon adventurer, jays a religious weirdo who tol dragged out of his hermit hut, and pips an insane little guy
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itsrubberbisquit · 3 years
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My Heart Would Know (12f/13)
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Summary:  Henry had been careful to cultivate his image, particularly when it came to endorsements.  He had never promoted an author before, preferring to subtly follow artists he liked on socials in case any of his fans wanted to check them out too.  That is until his assistant finds him the greatest media since the Beatles and Henry starts falling down an internet hole
Chapter Summary:   Henry hangs out with Evans for a bit, has a really stressful night with Liv and then has a *really* stressful day.  With everyone.  The last day of the con :(
Pairing:  Henry Cavill x OFC
Word Count: 4.9k
Warnings:  Nothing terrible unless you hate angst.  Then I’m not entirely sure why you’re here.
A/N:  THIS SUCKED WRITING TWICE, JSYK.  They both need a fucking hug.  And so does Kylie.  And even Rachel.  The good news is that my favorite NPC gets to show up in the next chaaapter.  I missed Audie.  Another massive shout out to @pensieve-foryour-thoughts​ for the beta.  Anytime you wanna go back through and nitpick, be my guest.
Also, I hit 100 this morning!  And then someone unfollowed me, lol.  I’ll have my celebration post up sometime this afternoon lol.
Metaphorical Tag List: @summersong69​  @omgkatinka​  @rn7rocks​  @introvertedmouse​
If you’d like a tag post a note or send me an ask.  I will do my *level* best to make it work.  Alternately, I have a notification chat group HERE.
Masterlist
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Henry had a phenomenal workout, going through the set of exercises he’d penned in with his trainer the last time he’d been in LA.  The last push up to filming was always one of the hardest but he was dedicated to the look.  Geralt was a hulk and Henry would be too.  He felt particularly swollen that evening, a combination of post-workout serotonin and the low thrum of pre-sex testosterone.  Maybe it was post-sex.  Sex-adjacent?  He mentally shrugged and shut Kal into the suite as he closed the door behind him.
 Whatever it was, it put a pep in his step as he headed downstairs to order dinner.
 He stopped by the front door and kindly asked the doorman to send Liv his way when she arrived.  With a flash of her picture and twenty bucks Henry was positive she’d show up before long.
 A grin spread across his face as he recognized the blond head of one Chris Evans hunched over his phone at the bar.  Standing all alone, the American looked a little rough around the edges in his faded shirt, jeans, and NASA ball cap.  Henry knew the disguise and the posture well, having spent more than his fair share of evenings searching for alone time in a hotel bar.
 On a weekend like this though, Evans was just asking for a stalker fan.
 He slid up next to the American and gestured for the bar keep.  “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”  He intentionally muddled his accent, sliding easily into the recently vacated Syverson character.  Chris’s eye twitched.  Henry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.  Evans had to take a few moments to wipe the irritated scowl off his face and put his public smile on.
 Henry kept the laugh in long enough for Evans to realize he was being fucked with before he threw his head back.  It had been too easy and too good watching that frustration at being interrupted.  Another feeling Henry was familiar with.
 “You fucker.”  Evans looked like he wanted to give Henry a shove and the Brit leaned away from his hand.  “I’m so people-d out.”  The blonde’s sigh was a lot heavier than Henry would have expected and he tilted his head curiously. 
 “Bad day?”
 “I have seen some shit today.  But, give me a second.”  Evans stood, pushing an empty glass to join two others.  “I need to hit the head.” 
 Henry took the time to get dinner ordered, to go.  He wanted Liv alone, wrapped in a blanket on a couch as soon as humanly possible.  He felt a hand clamp on his shoulder and nodded at Evans as he rejoined him.  “So.  Bad day?”  He may as well spend the time chatting until the food arrived.
 “Oh god.”  Evans buried his face in his palms.  “I had this fan at the signing that wanted to talk about pizza.  He was really adamant that he made pizza as well as Leone’s and I could only smile and nod.”  Henry cocked an eyebrow, not getting the reference.  Evans waved his confusion away.  “It’s a thing, it doesn’t matter.  It’s just, this guy spent $80 to tell me how good his pizza was.  I don’t know if he thought he’d impress me or . . . fuck I don’t know.  And then he went on this diatribe about how I’d once said that I didn’t like mushrooms and I was just...baffled.  I don’t remember mushrooms ever coming up but at this point I just have to accept that I must have said something once.  I’m just glad he was harmless.”
 Harmless was good.  Henry had met a few fans that hadn’t felt harmless and he was sure Evans had too.  People who knew stuff that he was sure he hadn’t shared online.�� But the internet was weird like that.  It wasn’t all that difficult to find out stuff about a person, especially when you kind of grew up online.  Chris was just that edge of too old to have remembered the good old days but Henry certainly remembered.  He’d had a LiveJournal, and then DeadJournal, and then MySpace, and then he’d landed a couple of roles and had buried most of it because there were some things the world didn’t need to see.
 His lame attempts at trying to write being one of them.
 But Chris would have missed all that and he certainly wouldn’t know that everyone leaves little bits of themselves, a trail that has hints of the truth but never the full view.
 He realized that’s what he’d gotten from Liv before yesterday.  A hint of who she was: kind and compassionate, yes.  Nerdy, for sure.  But he hadn’t seen her sharp wit or the soft way she melted when he was making her cum.  Nor did the internet describe the exact shade of aqua her eyes turned when she was deeply invested in conversation.
 That fan had asked Chris a real odd question but really, it was like asking him if he liked baseball or football.  Superficial.  What he’d learned about Liv and what he’d shared with her since they’d met felt bone deep and heavy.
 He was staring off in the distance while Evans was bearing his soul and the American cuffed him gently on the shoulder for it.  “Man, I don’t think I have ever seen you look, like, truly happy before.  You can’t keep that dumb smile off your face.”  If Chris had hoped to embarrass Henry he’d failed as the Brit smiled even wider.
 “Liv is something else, that’s all.”
 “The author, right?  Looks like you did end up with plans last night.”
 Henry didn’t kiss and tell.  Instead he took a sip of the water that had appeared at his elbow and grinned again.  “Maybe I’ll get a chance to meet her this weekend.”
 “Maybe.  She’s, uh, already seen you though.”  With a chuckle Henry recalled Liv’s run in with the buttress yesterday and the bruise that was getting darker every time he saw her.  He filled Evans in on her clumsiness and they both got a good chuckle out of it.  Chris himself had done plenty of stupid shit on set, much like Henry.  It was a tragic byproduct of doing stunts: on the one hand the stunt crews kept the actors so controlled and protected that it would be impossible to get hurt.  On the other hand, they were actors and it was an unspoken rule that they would push all the boundaries and find the one loophole in the safety precautions.
 Evans was detailing a particularly embarrassing moment on his last set when movement at the door distracted Henry.
 He grinned, recognizing the dark blue dress immediately.  Liv.  She’d taken the time to curl her hair after he’d left her and it framed her face in soft waves.  Her subtle eye makeup was perfect and her lips curled up at the sight of him.  She was breathtaking.
 Literally.
 He was by her side before he remembered oxygen was a thing that people needed to survive.  He apparently also needed Liv.
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-
 Later, after the movie when he held Liv in his arms as she fell apart, and after he pulled her back together with kisses imbued with his belief that she’d be fine, Henry watched her sleep.
 He’d unintentionally robbed himself of the pleasure of watching her sleep the night before and now he wanted to catalog every moment and sensation.  Hopefully this would be the first of many nights spent in her arms, her skin hot on his where she was pressed hip to shoulder against his side.  Henry usually ran warm and between the two of them he’d pulled only the thin top sheet up to her chin.
 He raised a hand and delicately brushed a strand of hair away from her face.  The skin around her eyes was just this side of puffy from her tears but she looked content and calm.  That was good; he’d almost panicked himself when he realized what was happening in his bathroom earlier.  It had been years since he’d held someone like that and even now he was kicking himself for moving too fast.  For touching her too soon before he knew she was ready for it.
 There were dark nights he hoped to forget eventually, the little scars the past had left him with.  Some moments, though, those scars helped to remind him of how to be a better person.  How to be helpful and considerate.  Henry didn’t have these full panic attacks but he’d guided others through them and he was immensely grateful he’d been there to help Liv.  It was troubling, though, that she’d had the attack at all.
 Her points earlier had all been valid but they were the considerations every new relationship had to navigate, weren’t they?  What were they doing?  Where were they going?  He’d thought it was self explanatory but he obviously had done a poor job of explaining exactly why he was here until he’d explicitly laid it out for her.
 For some dumb reason he’d thought Rachel had told her, had told Liv that he was coming to see her.  In hindsight the beautiful woman snuggled in his chest definitely hadn’t shown any kind of recognition that his presence was anything but serendipitous before tonight.  
 He wasn’t sure she realized exactly how dedicated he was to seeing where this was going to go.  And he was deeply invested.  While he would never turn away anyone who was having an emotional meltdown if he could help he certainly wouldn’t go out of his way to comfort them by holding them close.  Then going down on them.
 She’d said the two of them weren’t real, what they were feeling wasn’t real.  That had hurt.  But it was fine.  Everything would be fine.  He’d explained himself and hadn’t chased her off, thank God.  Tomorrow would be just one more day to show her how much he wanted to give her.
 Henry drifted off to sleep with the same nerves he was still prone to the night before the principal shooting began.  Like a soldier on the eve of battle, everything laid out and ready and just waiting for the right moment.
 -!-!-!-!-!-
 Not fifteen minutes after physically pushing Liv out of the door of his suite so she wouldn’t be late for her panel, someone was pounding at his door for entrance.  Kal bolted up from his lap where he’d been getting pets during the morning news, and Henry followed.
 Kylie brushed past him into the room, her phone banished like a weapon and a tight expression around her eyes.  “Have you been online yet this morning?”  He shook his head.  He’d listened to some music while he’d been down in the gym and then Liv and now, the weather.
 “Good.  But . . . shit.  Sit down.”  He dropped to the couch obediently, not at all used to his PA being so agitated or forceful.  Not for a long time.  Not since his last girlfriend had dumped all those photos from their vacation on Twitter.  The super inappropriate ones. 
 “What’s happened?  Kylie?” 
 Her expression was guilty as hell when she finally stopped pacing.  “TMZ ran a story early this morning that’s going to make its rounds, fast.  A story about you and Liv.”
 He cocked an eyebrow and waited for the other shoe to drop.  TMZ was garbage, an absolute rag.  But the fact that someone had picked up and reported on the fact that he was here?  Not much of a surprise.  He’d already talked about a couple of scenarios with Kylie and they had plans.  They had plans but if she was worried then it was a scenario they hadn’t expected.  He narrowed his eyes and pulled out his phone.
 Months, possibly years, ago he’d set up a Google alert with his name.  He tucked the notifications in a tertiary folder so he’d have to go looking if he wanted to see what the paps were saying but it was all right there.
 Henry’s jaw dropped at the headline and the subsequent suggestion that he was some kind of . . . gigolo.  That was certainly . . . new.  And for ten grand?  He scoffed, head shaking with the ridiculousness of the article’s suggestive nature.  It was, as expected, garbage and it didn’t overly bother him.
 But.
 It was probably going to bother Liv.
 She’d shown, on more than one occasion, that she wasn’t particularly interested in the limelight.  She didn’t want reporters dogging her steps and she certainly hadn’t expected these kinds of articles to be published while she was in the middle of her workday.  “Rachel?”
 “She knows.  She just texted me that she doesn’t think Liv’s seen it yet but she’ll talk to her after the panel.  I’m so sorry, Henry.  I thought with the way we’d transferred funds that it wouldn’t look like it came from her at all.”
 He frowned.  “Why would the donation matter?”  Surely it would be the suggestion that Liv had paid him to show up in Atlanta, to spend time with her.  Lots of naked time.
 Kylie didn’t answer him and he grabbed a hand, if only to keep her from wearing a rut on the carpet.  She looked close to tears.  “Kylie?  What the fuck is going on?”
 -!-!-!-!-!-!-
 Things Henry Cavill had learned during his time in Atlanta so far:
 1.       They had fantastic steakhouses here.
2.      The weather was pretty good.  A little hot and kind of humid but not as bad as Florida. The sunshine was nice.
3.      Liv Orton was amazing and beautiful and everything he’d been building up in his head over the last few months.  And way more.
4.      She’d been lied to and was now missing.
He couldn’t begin to imagine how or why Rachel had thought her scheme was a good idea.  He was so irritated by her unending machinations at the moment that he couldn’t talk to her.  It would only end in him yelling about her constant immaturity and he had no desire for that kind of exchange.
 It was bad enough Kylie had gone off on a tangent when she’d realized Henry wasn’t mad at her.  A tangent that had Rachel sobbing through the phone and Kylie locked in his guest bathroom.
 He left his PA to figure out the mess she’d helped land them all in while he went on an adventure to find Liv, the truly innocent party in this whole clusterfuck.  Somewhere in his wanderings he’d sent his agent, Sal, a message to fix this.  Or, at the very least, get TMZ to print a retraction because honestly?  That whole article was garbage.
 Sal asked if he’d like to release the information that Liv had made a ‘donation’ in his name and Henry declined the suggestion.  He wouldn’t do that, not until he talked to Liv and figured out what she wanted to do.  This was the first real speed bump she had experienced because of him and he wanted to make it abundantly clear that they would do whatever she needed.
 She wasn’t in her hotel room, nor the hotel bar.  She wasn’t at the hotel with her panel.  He estimated it’d been almost three hours since her talk had ended.  He stood on the corner of Congress and Peachtree and thought hard.  With one last check at his own suite, going so far as to check all the rooms just in case she’d talked a key out of the front desk, he headed to the Marriott. 
 When they’d been here, their first night, she’d mentioned that the rooftop pool had long been her favorite location in the city due to it’s relatively low traffic and the fact that they had the best vodka tonics in town.
 His hunch was rewarded by a loose-limbed Liv hiding away in a lounger.  He drew to a stop in front of her and waited for her to look up.  His heart almost broke at the abject misery on her face when she looked up at him.  He cursed TMZ and Rachel and Kylie and even himself for causing her pain like this.  Completely unnecessary and cruel pain. 
 Liv didn’t move, giving him such a steady look that he’d believe her sober if not for the empty glasses next to her chair.  He sighed and took the incentive, asking her to move her legs with a tap.  He frowned when she gave him just the barest sliver of the lounge but sat all the same.  She was clearly very angry and he couldn’t blame her.
 She was blameless at the end of the day.  And he was the fool who’d started falling in love with a lie.  But, it was like he’d realized with Evans.  He’d known a small sliver of who she was, with that donation to Durrell.  It had led him to seek more and he’d liked what he’d found.  What did the original deception matter in the long run?
 The silence ragged out for an uncomfortable amount of time and he let out another sigh.  He detailed the steps that Sal was taking to have the article removed.  He tried for a moment of flirtatious levity and the smile died on his face when she refused to engage.  His heart clenched, warning bells sounding in the distance.
 “Did Rachel pay you to come here?”  She looked immeasurably vulnerable when she asked the question.  If she hadn’t already been crying most of the afternoon he was fairly certain he’d have seen tears.  It was in the corners of her eyes, a tightness he’d marked the night before.
 His stomach dropped and he reached out to anchor her to him.  “No.  Fuck, no Liv.  No one paid me to do anything, to come here.”  His words failed to reach her and he pressed onwards.  “You didn’t even pay me to begin with.  That donation paid for the bat annex at Durrell and I loved that.  That you’d be willing to do something selfless just so I’d read your books.”
 Her laughter sounded hysterical and those warning bells grew louder.  “I didn’t though.”  She hadn’t made that donation.  Rachel had.  Kylie had told him as much earlier and now Liv was detailing how she hadn’t, wouldn’t ever, do something like that.  It just wasn’t a thing she could entertain.
 Henry was losing her.  He could see it in her expression and read it in the complete lack of reaction she had to his presence so close to her body.  Where they’d had intimacy just that morning there was now a painful distance.  Solutions.  He needed solutions and he did the best thing he could think of.  He pulled her into his arms and tried to recreate the comfort he’d offered the night before.
 But even as his arms tightened he could feel the resistance.  He could hear the pain and her betrayal at the whole situation.  This really really wasn’t her fault.  It really wasn’t his either, but he was fairly certain he was about to pay for it.
 He offered her options: more cuddles at the pool.  Her room?  His, with a side of Kal who could cheer even the most dismal mood?  He kept the hopeful, almost desperate smile on his face as long as he could.  “Liv- what do you need?”
 He had hope right until she pushed him back and met his eyes, tears finally glittering in her own.  “Nothing-  I don’t need anything from you.”  His grip loosened immediately, but he didn’t let go.
 Those sirens were deafening now, warning of the impending doom bearing down on him.  The sirens couldn’t stop one last effort to impart the importance of the last few days.  “Liv, I have to tell you-“
 “Thank you, Henry.  This was a pleasant fiction.  For a little while.”
 Henry’s heart stuttered to a standstill.  It was almost cruel, using a quote from their favorite movie, to indicate the seriousness of her words.  A pleasant fiction.  He looked away, not at all willing to show Liv how bad this hurt.  He nodded instead and let her slip from his arms. 
 He felt cold without her but it wouldn’t be proper to argue.  Not here, like this.  He inhaled slowly, exhaled with an equally controlled measure, then looked down at her one last time.  She looked resolute and he knew this really had all been a pleasant fiction, one that she wasn’t or wouldn’t make a reality.
 “I . . .um.  I’m really happy that we met.  No matter the outcome.  And you have my number.  If you ever find yourself in-”  Henry snapped his mouth shut before he could embarrass himself.  The woman had given him her answer and he needed to accept it.
 He didn’t have to like it but he did have to accept it.  He kept his head down and refused to make eye contact on his way back to his room.  He was going to pack his stuff and his dog and his equally heartbroken PA and get the fuck out of Atlanta. 
Next Chapter
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mira--mira · 3 years
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Question from an aspiring writer:
How do you stay motivated on one project for such a long time?
I personally have the attention span of a goldfish, and whenever I have an idea I either have to write down everything my brain can spew immediately or have it be lost in the void for eternity.
Never mind going back and turning my outline into a fic or gasp editing.
Do you have any tips and/or tricks you use?
Ok, I got completely carried away with this just fyi, but hopefully I ended up answering your actual question 😂 tl;dr at the bottom.
To be honest, staying motivated is a tricky thing, one that I feel I'm still learning how to do even now and varies a bit between shortfics/oneshots and multi-chaptered fics/longfics. For a bit of background, I've been writing fanfic for about a year and a half, but I've been writing original fiction since I was seven, over a decade and a half, and I still wrestle with it. It's definitely a learning process.
One thing I wish someone would have told me when I was starting out was the power of ~scenes~ in either multi-chapters or one-shots. All writing is ultimately made up of scenes, but if you're struggling to put things together, focusing on an individual scene, or multiple short scenes, might help you focus on getting something completed, and it's something that eventually can be applied to longer works as well. Writing has been a snowball process for me and once I started getting anything completed, I felt more secure in knowing what I could write comfortably and what was out of my comfort zone, eventually getting to the point where I felt comfortable tackling bigger and longer projects and knowing I could stay with them.
OoT's interlude chapters and the snippet series are both good examples of scenes because I wrote them with that intention...even if most of them are actually two or three scenes combined. "Gai meets Hashirama and Madara", "Hashirama gets revenge on Kakashi", "Tatsuki and Hashirama pick flowers for Madara, then give them to him" etc. were all my starting points.
If you're first starting out and feel comfortable with outlines of some sort before you start writing I would encourage you to try and write down a bullet point list of your scene(s) and what you know you want to happen in it.
"Gai meets Hashirama and Madara"
* Hashirama meets Gai first, mistakes him for Lee.
* Madara is shopping for a gift for Hashirama
* Madara finds Gai and Hashirama, they spar, Gai kicks his ass, both of them love him.
This is how my initial outline looked for the first interlude chapter, technically each one of these "points" are their own scenes stuck together. Outlining is different for everyone, some people like super specific points, others even less detail than this. For me this is a nice middle that gives me a roadmap for the chapter, but allows plenty of room to naturally diverge and add detail. Play around with outlines and see what you're comfortable with/what gives you the best results.
I'm not sure of your individual situation, but if you're struggling to put together fics in general something like this might help. Doing this process again and again personally helps me stay on track and gives me a sense of progress.
This sense of progress is ultimately key and why I think motivation differs slightly between one-shots/short fics and longfics. If you confine the individual scene to a one-shot, that might give you the motivation to complete it. Even if you start writing and you get interrupted/can't finish having in one setting, bullet points sometimes help inspire me to finish because I'm not starting from scratch when I return to writing. The whole "eat an elephant one piece at a time" thing was difficult for me to learn, but ultimately proved true. Learning to chip away at something bit by bit is going to be the only (healthy) way to write longer projects you can't complete in one sitting.
For longer projects, it's a similar beast just on bigger levels and with an added dimension. I would actually suggest something similar to OoT for a starting project because it is ultimately broken up into arcs that you know and can reference, instead of making a lot of og content for a fan setting. Maybe not go into it thinking, 'I'll do a complete rewrite' but once you feel like you're ready for a longer project 30K+ or so, the rough outline method and the ability to follow arcs was what got me started when I eventually decided to make the fic multi-chaptered. Try writing one arc and keep yourself contained in that. Now the added dimension aspect in general for longfics is that you eventually want to plot individual chapters in a multi-chaptered longfic and individual arcs (character, plot, etc). This comes with practice. I honestly don't think there's a way to get around that. It's something that I'm still trying to work on and I can look back at my early work and see how I've improved, how I can recognize where things didn't go well in certain places, and how I would change them if I was writing today. That's a good thing to be able to do, it means you've grown! The other thing I find that helps with staying motivated week after week for longer projects is to roughly know where you're going and to try to be excited about a plot point/scene/chapter/etc that you're going to write. Really try to hype yourself up. For me, it's a moment that comes at the very end of the chunin arc and I start grinning even thinking about it because I know it's going to be awesome. It's always what gets me through the rough days, imagining the moment I'll get to actually write that scene in its entirety (it's definitely already outlined and I mentally play it out at least twice a week lol) and is a big motivating drive.
So far I think this is pretty standard stuff if you're an outliner and you've been writing for a few years, but the other thing motivational-wise for me is having a schedule. From reading this message alone, I would not suggest it for you right away. Get comfortable finishing small things and feeling confident that if you let an idea sit for a week or two, you can pick it back up and continue. But if you eventually dip your toes into longfics (and don't plan to pre-write everything before you publish) that routine and rhythm really helps keep me going. I've made a commitment, I've posted it online, I'm going to stick to it. No one is going to jump down my throat if I fail to keep it (this is still a hobby and having fun is the most important thing) but in my mind I should commit to it unless something irl prevents me from doing so. Don't put a tight deadline on yourself, I'd start with once a month or if you write shorter chapters every three weeks. This also would help you build up and get a readership, interaction being another big motivational key.
Also, it's important to accept that sometimes you bite off more than you can chew, and when you feel completely demotivated from a fanfic project...it's okay to drop it. It's okay to take a step back and work on something else. Maybe you'll come back to it, maybe you won't. If you can, try to pinpoint what it was about that project that made you demotivated, were you pushing yourself too much and you got burnt out, was it an ongoing series and your interest for canon lagged and so did the fic, was it just too stressful to keep juggling plotpoints, etc. and keep that in mind moving forward. Every experience can be a learning one and eventually make you a better writer that can eventually tackle those bigger projects. Don't be afraid to take on big aspirational projects, but don't walk into them blind either. Above all, and this is repeated a lot because it's true, enjoy what you write. Some days you might not. That's true with anything, but any project you take on the good should outweigh the bad.
This is my wrap up of the motivational section but I also wanted to throw my two-cents in about editing because "oh no editing" is a perspective I've seen from a lot of writers, and used to have myself, but I think is going to stifle your progress in the long run.
Here's the thing: you need to look forward to editing.
You don't have to be jumping for joy, but editing, imo, should be a positive thing. You have all these great ideas, you made it into a fic, something you wrote, and now you get to go back and make it even better! This is a tough attitude to adopt. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. It took me a long time to unlearn the negative attitude and even then sometimes I still wish the editing was already done once I type in the last period. But I've learned to at least appreciate what editing does and I try to think to myself as I'm going through and making changes things like "wow, this suddenly became so much better. X plot point that I thought of ten pages from now is suddenly being hinted at and doesn't come out of left field. The transition points are a lot cleaner, it's not so jarring anymore. I bet the readers are going to love this little detail. Here's some foreshadowing that I hope someone picks up bc it's going to come back in like 5 chapters from now" it's hard, especially when you start, but this is something you made, and now are actively making better and that's something to celebrate.
I hope this helps anon! I know it's a lot and I'm by no means an expert but I've been doing this for more than a decade because I love it and I want to help others get into writing to! I have no problem answering any writing questions you may have if you find this helpful!
tl;dr
-motivation is slightly different between short/long fics.
-starting out, learn to outline by scenes and focus on finishing small projects and getting to a point where you feel like you can put something down and come back and pick it up again in a week. Completion is key and will help you feel satisfied/know your limits.
-long projects also can work on the scene-to-scene outline but now with individual chapters and individual arcs. It's tough to balance both but comes with practice. Bit-by-bit is key, as is having 'one moment you can't wait to write', possibly a schedule if it works for you, and reader feedback are all huge long-term motivational points.
-editing is tough but learn to look forward to it instead of dreading it.
edited: added a bit more/few typos fixed
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Hi ❤️ if you’re still talking prompts could you write Buck temporarily going blind and Eddie helping him cope till he gets better? Only if you want, no pressure and thx 😘
COMBINED WITH BUDDIEWEEK2020 PROMPT
July 8th   - Day 3: “We can do this.” + hurt
also I want you to know it was very difficult for me not to turn it into a permanently blind emotional rollercoaster that you definitely did not ask for.
(xoxo to @buckleydiazs for giving it a once over before posting!)
Every time Eddie closes his eyes, he relives his mistake. 
He can see Buck taking the stairs two at a time, clearing the last floor of the burning apartment building. He can see the ladder at the end of the hallway, the light at the end of a burning tunnel. He can see part of the ceiling give way as he turns, reaching for Buck, too slow, too fucking slow, and Buck—
—is gone, pushed through the floor by the caving-in ceiling, what Eddie was sure was a scream drowned out by the roar of the flames.
They find him, of course they do, half buried beneath rubble three floors down with a cracked helmet, broken mask, and blood leaking sluggishly around the temples. Buck is out cold—which is probably for the best, because when Eddie peels his helmet off as Chim speeds through the Los Angeles streets to the nearest trauma hospital all he can see is blue, and black, and red, splashed over the bridge of Buck’s nose, his lids, from ear to ear.
Retinal detachment.
Orbital fracture.
Extreme ocular trauma.
“It’s too soon to tell. The surgery went well, but the healing is where... well, where the healing happens. The gauze needs to be changed daily, and the tape on your lids needs to be removed in two weeks time—by that time, the nerves in your...”
Eddie started to zone out while the doctor was talking, his hand nearly numb from how hard Buck was squeezing it, not that he was going to complain. He had only left the hospital twice in the 60 hours Buck had been admitted—once during Buck’s surgery to drive home, take a well needed shower and a change of clothes, and once to pick up some coffee because he felt about as dead on his feet as Buck looked, and that was saying a lot.
Buck, who had thrashed around and nearly punched Eddie in the face when he came to after the surgery, because he couldn’t fucking see. Buck, who had stitches in his fucking eyeball and two metal rods in the bone around his nose to keep the cartilage from sinking back and puncturing his brain. Buck, who had his eyelids taped shut—which was barbaric in a way Eddie couldn’t properly describe.
“Do I look like a mummy?” Buck had asked after he woke up, near monotonous, and Eddie had to stop himself from near hysterical laughter—he just had two circles of gauze packed toward his eye sockets, another layer of tape beneath the fluff to keep his lids shut.
“Now, Mr. Buckley, who will you be staying with?”
And god, after less than three days, Buck was being discharged.
Eddie blinked, bringing himself back to the present as he heard the question, giving a small gesture with his hand—and remembering Buck couldn’t see it. Off to a great start. “Me. I’ll be taking him back to our home, the only hard part will be convincing my kid that it’s not a two week sleepover vacation.”
If Eddie didn’t already know how low Buck was feeling, the fact that he didn’t even try to argue said more than enough.
--
Eddie had immediately cashed in three weeks of his paid time off—he had racked plenty up with all the overtime he had worked his first few months on the team, before Carla, the patron saint of financial aid had swooped into his life. He wasn’t about to leave Buck alone, not for a minute if he could help it, but Eddie knew better than anyone that sometimes, things didn’t happen as planned.
The first few days of Buck staying with them had gone... alright. Tensions were sky high, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why, but thankfully Chris was in the house more often than not on the weekend, and it was impossible to be tense or angry when Chris was in the room, even if you couldn’t see him. 
At night, though, everything changed. Tension turned to despair, and Eddie had never been more thankful that the guest room was next to his own, on the opposite side of the hall from Chris’ room—he knew the nightmares would be coming hard and fast, and he knew Buck would have never forgiven himself if he scared Christopher with them.
The past two nights, all Buck had needed to anchor himself was a firm touch, a loud enough noise, something to anchor him to the situation, but Eddie could tell that wasn’t going to be enough when he opened Buck’s door a few nights into his stay.
Partially because of his own guilt, maybe, but mostly because Buck sounded like he was fighting for his life.
“Buck, come on, wake up—you’re safe, you’re home with me and Chris, you’re okay, fuck, Buck—“
He finally pulled Buck upright, hands on his shoulders, and Buck gasped, head snapping side to side. “Eddie, what’s going on, where—where the fuck am I, Eddie, what—I can’t see, Eds, I can’t fucking see, I—“
It was only years of Army training that had Eddie’s reflexes moving fast enough to grab Buck’s hands as he moved to claw at his eyes, to rip the gauze and tape off of his lids. 
“Listen to me, you’re safe. You’re okay. Come on, Buck. We can do this. I got you.” Keeping his voice as low as possible, Eddie pulled Buck’s wrists toward his own chest, and to his complete dismay, he could feel the moment that Buck’s mind caught up with him. He fell forward, limply pushing his forehead into Eddie’s shoulder, body wracking with sobs as Eddie let go of his wrists and just held his friend, his Buck, who had become completely undone in his arms.
He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, too afraid that the wrong thing would come spilling out, so he just held onto Buck and let him cry, only loosening his grip when he felt Buck’s breath start to even out again, only interrupted by the occasional hiccuping sob or hitch of emotional aftermath. He didn’t realize that Buck had passed out again until it was too late; it was hard to tell in the first place, not being able to see if Buck’s eyes were open or shut, but by the time he realized Buck had literally cried himself asleep he couldn’t even imagine waking him back up just so Eddie could leave.
Also… he didn’t really want to leave. 
Slowly pulling the sheet up around Buck’s shoulders, Eddie wiggled himself back down against the headboard, his own eyes closing. He had certainly had worse sleeps—anywhere overseas came to mind—but that was an afterthought. If this is what it took to help Buck feel safe, so be it. 
It was the best night of sleep he had gotten in weeks.
--
The next night, after he had read to Chris and wished Buck a good night, Eddie only needed to pick up on the smallest of hesitations from Buck before he took Buck’s hand and led him into his own bedroom. Buck’s shoulders sagged in relief as Eddie helped steer him into his bed, laying close enough that their legs were touching, but far enough that they still had plenty of their own space, the small contact hopefully enough to ground Buck into the present.
And if Eddie secretly loved the mornings where he would be lucky enough to wake up with Buck any degree closer, well, that was his own business.
--
Staying together in the same bed didn’t stop Buck’s nightmares, of course, not that Eddie expected it to. What it did was give them both the ability to stop them before it got too bad—with the solid resistance of another body beside you, it was harder to let a dream spiral down too far. He wish he didn’t know this from experience, but... well, he was far from perfect, and that was becoming more and more obvious every day.
The hardest part of it all was that Buck was a morning person, which, who would even have thought that were a thing? Eddie took advantage of sleeping in whenever possible—he had been known to drop Christopher off at school on his days off and get another hour or so of shut eye—but by the time his first alarm went off, Buck had almost always untangled himself from Eddie’s form and retreated to his own side of the bed, and that wouldn’t do. 
(When had Eddie started to think of it as Buck’s side of the bed? He really didn’t want to look into that too deeply.)
Eddie started to push himself—waking up ten, fifteen minutes before his alarm, just to enjoy Buck’s closeness, his warmth. 
He was getting used to it too quickly, forgetting that this wasn’t actually his, even as he dreamed of spending a sleepy Saturday in bed with Buck, looping an arm around his waist. 
“Eddie?”
Fuck. He was awake, and apparently, so was Buck. 
His mind immediately kicked into overdrive, not sure if he should pretend that he was still asleep or snap his hand back and apologize, but thankfully, Buck made up his mind before Eddie could. He felt Buck’s arm move atop of his own—not pushing off, just resting alongside, the limb a line of heat along Eddie’s arms as their fingertips brushed. “…this is okay with you?” Buck asked, and Eddie let out a rush of air, nodding, nose tickling the back of Buck’s head. “Yeah Buck, it’s, um. I like it. And if you like it, that’s even better. It’s great! I mean, it’s the least I could do, I guess.” God, Eddie, shut the fuck up.
“… the least you could do.”
Eddie swallowed as he heard the frown in Buck’s voice, knowing instinctively that he was in trouble as Buck moved himself, rolling to face Eddie—probably more out of force of habit than anything, considering they couldn’t exactly meet eye to eye. 
“Edmundo Diaz.” Yup, he was in trouble. “You don’t actually think that this is your fault, do you?” Buck said, his tone uncertain, brows furled even with the little bit of motion they had. 
“… it’s just… you were right there, Buck. You were right in front of me, and then you were gone. I couldn’t catch you, couldn’t do anything. I was too slow to act, even when you were in arms reach of me, and now you might be blind.” His voice was thick with emotion as he looked over Buck’s face, hating now more than ever that he couldn’t see the others eyes, see how upset or disappointed Buck must be in him. He felt his own throat tighten as he looked down, his arm burning where it was on Buck’s hip. He didn’t even deserve to be in the same room as Buck, let alone touch him, and—
“Eddie, shut the fuck up.”
His jaw snapped shut with an audible click, Buck’s tone like concrete, heavy and unyielding as he jabbed a finger into Eddie’s chest. “You don’t get to apologize because you haven’t done anything wrong. Hell, you’re the only one doing anything right. You’re here, you stepped up, you’re helping me, you’re... hell, where is anyone else? You don’t get to apologize for stepping up, for making sure that I had... well, don’t think I didn’t notice you calling this our home.”
Buck was getting more and more animated as he spoke, and Eddie found himself floundering a little bit, trying to keep up with what Buck was saying (and fuck, had he really said that?). “Buck, I just—”
“Eddie, this is not your fucking fault and I won’t hear you say that ever again.”
...well. Eddie might have disagreed, but he wasn’t stupid enough to argue, not when he had an angry Buck in his bed. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry about it anyway.” he grumbled, aware that he sounded like a petulant child—and if anything, the small smile that Buck had on his face meant Buck thought so too. 
“Well, fine. I’m sorry too.”
“What? Buck, what do you have to be--”
“Sorry it took me having a major accident to get you to cuddle with me.”
“What! We aren’t—I didn’t—this isn’t—”
“Eddie, shut up.”
Eddie would have protest when he felt Buck’s shoulders start to shake, worried he had said the wrong thing again—but Buck was laughing, the sound muted under his breath, and Eddie let out a dramatic puff of air as he collapsed back to the bed, his arm back at Buck’s hips.
But, he did shut up.
--
Eddie almost slammed his head on the hood of his car when he heard a crash coming from the kitchen. He bolted out of the garage, hands stained with oil, swearing as he stumbled in to the main house, almost tripping up the stairs.
“Wait, Eddie, stop!”
Buck’s face was angled toward Eddie’s direction, hand out, obviously having heard him stumble down the hall. Eddie froze in place, eyes huge as he took in the scene—everything looked fine, Buck was upright, he wasn’t bleeding, but the ground around him was glittering with broken glass; nothing more than a broken dish, but Buck was barefoot.
Buck was okay. Eddie hadn’t failed him again. He hadn’t let him get hurt again.
Taking a few steps loser, he let the wrecked look on Buck’s face register for only a moment, wishing for nothing more than to make it go the fuck away. “Hey, okay, you’re good, it was just a plate.”
“And a glass.”
“And a glass.”
“I’ll pay for it, I promise.”
“Buck, if you think I own any nice dishes after having a kid, you have another thing coming.” Eddie laughed in spite of himself, only encouraged when Buck let out a wet sounding chuff. “Are you okay with me just lifting you out of here? It’ll be the easiest way to get you out of glass before I sweep everything up.”
Buck lifted his arms in response and Eddie had to bite down another laugh as he lifted the other male easily, his hands latched beneath his rear end, Buck’s chest right against his face. He brought Buck easily to the couch and deposited him there, getting a little hasty with the broom as he cleaned up—but Buck looked so miserable, he couldn’t stand to leave the other alone for any longer than he absolutely had to.
It made Eddie want to scream—not because of the situation, but because of everything leading up to it. The day before, Buck had tried to start cleaning the dishes, and had nearly impaled himself with one of Eddie’s pairing knives. The night before that, he had almost started a kitchen fire, cleaning the stove with cooking spray instead of Lysol. Buck passed both of these off as just trying to be helpful, but Eddie was about to pull out his hair—not because the situations were stressful, but because Buck kept coming closer and closer to hurting himself, and Eddie couldn’t accept that. 
Tossing the glass into the garbage, he grabbed two beers and cracked them both open, making his way over to the couch with a sigh. “Alright, Buck, what’s up? Why are you pushing yourself so hard, when you only have a few days with the tape left?”
Eddie knew the answer before he even asked, the emotion on Buck’s face more clear than ever as he looked down. “Because I have to. What if I don’t get my vision back? All I want in the entire world is to rip this tape off, to—not even to see, just to know. I can’t stand not knowing, Eddie, I can’t. If I’m blind, I can’t be dependent on you forever, I can’t—”
“Hey, hey, take a breath.” Eddie easily took Buck’s hands in his own, squeezing them reassuringly, eyes studying the visible portions of Buck’s face, his thumb stroking over the pulse point in Buck’s wrist. “You know that whatever happens, we’ll be here for you, right? Chris and I aren’t going to let you face this on your own.
Buck let out another wet sounding laugh, sniffing as he shook his head. “Eddie, I told you, this wasn’t your fault—”
“I’m serious, Buck. We’re not letting you go. I’m not letting you go.”
Any protests that Buck had died in his throat as Eddie shrugged, his hands stilling beneath Eddie’s, suddenly painfully aware of their proximity. Eddie had to bite his lip to avoid laughing as Buck started to lean up, head moving on its own accord, because of course it would take Buck going blind to finally pick up on the signals Eddie had been broadcasting since forever—
“Eddie, I’m blind, you have to tell me if I’m misreading this, because I can’t see your stupid handsome face at all, and—mmphs!”
Eddie swallowed a laugh as he leaned in and claimed Buck’s lips with his own, feeling the quick moment of shock melt into something better, easier. His mouth was warm against Buck’s as he tilted his head, hand coming up to cup his jaw, only encouraged by Buck’s little moans as he melted into Eddie’s side.
The smile on his face was so bright when he pulled back that Eddie felt like he could feel the warmth from it sink into his skin, the heat from Buck’s breath dancing over his face, and nothing could bring him down from this high, not even Buck’s moment of insecurity as he squeezed Eddie’s arms.
“...you’re smiling, right?” Buck asked, his voice low, his own face cut into a shy smile that Eddie would have paid hard cash money to look at for the rest of his life.
Rather than answer, Eddie took Buck’s hands in his own, letting Buck’s fingers trace over his face, his smile, taking every moment he could to kiss the fingers that traced over his lips. Buck couldn’t help but laugh as he swatted Eddie’s shoulder, the sound warming Eddie to his very core—it was the first time in weeks that he had heard Buck laugh, he realized. Letting his arms slide back around Buck’s waist, he had to sigh as they fit back into one another’s space.
Chris didn’t even question finding the two of them like that when Carla brought home, because bless that kid. He just let his backpack fall to the floor, grabbed a blanket, and curled into Buck’s side. Buck, to his credit, let out a happy hum, wrapped an arm around Chris, and that was that.
(Two days later, Carla spent an absurd amount of time peeling the tape off of Buck’s eyelids, but Eddie couldn’t even complain about the laborious process when Buck’s eyes opened slowly, squinting as he started to re-focus.
Eddie held his breath as Buck’s eyes flickered over to him—not knowing if Buck could see was killing him, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask, biting his lips as a smile bloomed over Buck’s face.
“God, you’re cute.”
Eddie wasn't sure if he was laughing or crying as Buck spoke, pulling his teammate—his Buck—into his arms, but he didn’t care. All that mattered right now was Buck, tight in his arms.)
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youbloodymadgenius · 4 years
Text
Off Guard (Modern!Ivar x reader)
Part 1
A/N: This is my entry to @hecohansen31​‘s 1K writing challenge. Congratulations once again, love 💐! There’ll be a second part. Heco, I know how much you love insecure!Ivar, so bear with me and trust me 😉
The prompt I chose: Don't panic. Are you sitting? You probably don't need to sit. Well, possibly. At least lean on something. (”The Raven Boys”, by Maggie Stiefvater)
As usual, thanks to @inforapound​ 🌺
Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊
Summary: Y/N wants to surprise her three-year long-distance-relationship boyfriend. Things aren't going to turn out the way she hoped.
Warnings: slight angst for this first part, nothing more.
Words: 2416
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Reaching the entrance of the building, you heave a sigh of relief, seeing the guard standing at the door. You know him. He won't mind letting you in and it makes the first part of your plan so much easier. 
 "Miss Y/N, how nice to see you again."
 "Hello…", squinting at his badge, you give him a broad smile, "… Erik. I'm glad to see you too. He's still in there, right?" Pointing at the building, you look up, Ivar's office being on the top floor. 
 "Of course he is. You know him, don't you?" Showing his disapproval by shaking his head, Erik waves at an employee leaving the building  before explaining his thoughts. "He never leaves before nine pm, sometimes later. He's far too young to work that hard." Erik lowers his gaze, pursing his lips. "I'm afraid I'm overstepping my role, sorry Miss. Shall I let him know you're here?"
"It's fine, Erik, don't worry." Putting a reassuring hand on his arm, you squeeze it lightly, nodding. "I agree, Ivar works way too hard. Hopefully it will change,” you add with a dreamy smile before remembering his question. "No, don't tell him I'm here please, I want to suprise him."
 Erik winks at you, seemilingly pleased. "All right Miss, as you wish." Pushing the door for you, he invites you in. " My shift ends in thirty minutes. If I don't see you again, I'll say good night." Thanking him, you head to the main elevator but stop in your tracks when another question pops in your mind. "Hvitserk and Ubbe are out of the office, right?" 
 Erik nods, stifling a chuckle, his answer obvious. "Of course Miss. They left two hours ago, together with two young ladies, very blonde and very pretty if I may say so." You can't help but grin hearing that. So far so good. Everything's going according to your plan. Giving him a thumbs up, you shout "Thanks Erik, good night," while the elevator doors are closing. 
 And now, it's time for action. Selecting the top floor button with a shaky finger, you're beyond excited, your heart racing faster and faster the closer you get to your goal. 
 As soon as the doors open, you quickly cross the seemilingly deserted floor, pleased once again with your perfect timing. Friday night at seven pm, there's hardly anyone left in the building. Yet, you're still careful.
 As you walk passed Ivar's office, you have to fight with all your might not to burst through the door, your heart beating frantically at this point, the burning desire to finally be in his arms after more than four months, literally, eating you up. 
 By now, you're used to this long distance relationship, this ocean between the two of you. Yet, since your first encounter on a Caribbean island three years ago, you've never been without each other for so long. You want, you need, his strong arms around you, his lips against yours. You resist the urge, inhaling deeply, determined to pull off the surprise as you planned. He'll love it. Of course he will. 
 With Hvitserk and Ubbe gone, you have a choice but don't hesitate before entering Hvitserk’s office. Hvitserk being Hvitserk, you know he spends few hours at work – to the great dismay of his brothers – more interested in women than in the family business. His office, impersonal and with blank walls, is therefore perfect for your plan.
 Sneaking in, you close the door quietly as you swing your backpack from your shoulder, putting it on Hvitserk's desk. Glancing around, you see that you were right, there's nothing on the walls or personal items on the desk. 
 The moment you open your backpack, you take out your laptop, turning it on. It would have been faster with your phone, but the battery is dead and its charger lies in the bottom of your suitcase. Bursting with impatience, you nervously bite your lower lip, eventually releasing a short breath as soon as your laptop is ready.  
 As you open Skype without a moment's hesitation, it's like your heart is exploding. Finally! Holding your breath, you click on the call button…
 It rings.
 ***
 "Y/N?" Ivar gives you a dumbfounded look as soon as your face appears on his screen. "Is everything all right? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Looking briefly at his watch, he nods. "Yes, you should, it's awfully early for you."
 Playing along for now, you fake a yawn, stretching your upper limbs. "Yeah, I know, but I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd call you, my love. Hope I'm not disturbing anything."
 "No, don't worry. Guess I can spare five minutes even though I've got a lot of work to do." Slightly shaken by his sharp voice, you wince. You know he does indeed have a lot to do. Between his doctoral thesis and his leading post within the Lothbrok Corporation, Ivar is more than busy most of the time. Too busy to your liking. Still… 
 "Where are you?" Squinting at his screen, Ivar frowns, his index finger clearly pointing to the blank wall behind you. "This is not your bedroom, is it?"
 Relieved to have a ready answer, you're about to tell him that you're in your father's office on the ground floor, so as not to wake anyone, but you don't get the chance as he waves a dismissive hand at you, leaving you speechless.
 "Never mind, forget it, just tell me why are you calling, Y/N?" There's no pet name, no frills. On the contrary, in his tone is a urgency that doesn't suit you well. Feeling baffled and a little hurt, you nervously run a hand through your hair, pursing your lips. Of course, you know Ivar doesn't like talking on the phone, video calls or not. It's nothing new and not something you're happy about, but you've learned to accept it.  Still, you have to admit, he has been more distant lately.
Biting your inner cheek, you try to brush your uneasiness off. Ivar had never been much of a talker, rather a quiet and straight-to-the-point guy, but, he loves you, that's something you know for certain. So, instead of paying too much attention to his obvious lack of enthusiasm, you focus on what's about to happen. Your surprise. He'll love it. You're sure he will. 
 "Well…", you begin, unsure, wishing you could pretend a little longer, have him believe for a few more minutes that you're home, thousands of miles away. But you can't. You've been dying to break the news to him for days, ever since your parents said yes. Keeping it a secret had been hard, and you don't want to wait anymore. 
 Taking in a deep breath, you give him a dazzling smile. "Actually, I'm calling you with a good reason, Ivar. I have something to tell you. Something huge, if I may say so."
 Furrowing his brow, he looks at you questioningly, leaning his head towards the screen. "Carry on." His terse voice gives away how uninterested he is. He must be VERY busy, you think, but that's not going to undermine your eagerness. 
 "Listen, it's the most unexpected news of the year!” Waving your arms enthusiastically, you suppress the urge to get up as you just want to rush into his office, failing to notice his frozen-with-concern face.  
 However, you don't miss the way he clenches his jaw a second later, swallowing loudly. "Fuck, you're scaring me, Y/N. You can't be… " He stops and you catch a glimpse of... fear in his eyes. Realizing he's genuinely afraid freaks you out a little bit. While many terms can describe Ivar – cranky, handsome, stubborn, smart, cheeky, yet sometimes insecure, short-tempered but often so sweet in private – scared is certainly not one of them. What can he be thinking about?
 "No Ivar, please. I promise, it's not bad news. Maybe you should sit down, but trust me, it's nothing bad. Don't panic. Are you sitting? You probably don't need to sit. Well, possibly. At least lean on something. Oh no, you know, I think it would be better if you were sitting. Yeah. Sit down Ivar. But I promise, it's not bad news. Are you sitting? Because I think that you should, definitely."
 You'd probably keep going, but he interrupts you harshly, "Y/N!", a finger over his lips. "Stop your rambling! Look, I'm behind my desk, of course I'm sitting. Now tell me… I need to know… You're not… You're not fucking pregnant, right?"
 Huh?? You stare wide-eyed at him, utterly taken aback. You just can't believe it. Pregnant? How could you? Even if you're on the pill, Ivar always uses condoms, repeating his explanation each and every time, so much so that you memorized it. 'My fucking condition is the result of a fucking genetic disease, Y/N. My child will have a fifty percent chance of inheriting it. It can't fucking happen.'
 Part of you wants to tease him about it, but because you can see he's genuinely worried you choose instead to reassure him. "Of course not, Ivar." A look of relief immediately washes over his face, Ivar breathes a huge sigh, his features relaxing visibly as you give him an affectionate smile. You're truly delighted when he smiles back at you. 
 "Okay, good. So what is it? What's the big news, Y/N? Won't you tell me?" Hands clasped under his chin, he seems to be giving you his undivided attention now, narrowing his eyes. Glad to see you've finally managed to arouse his interest, you nod excitedly, beaming. 
 Determined not to keep him waiting any longer, you clap your hands twice before breathing out heavily. "Yep, I will. Listen Ivar, you know how my parents have always been reluctant for me to study there, right?"
 Rolling his eyes, Ivar shrugs, shaking his head slightly, a disappointed look on his face. "Yeah I do, indeed." He's not doing as well in the whole long-distance thing as you are. He had once, a long time ago, put words to his feelings, fists clenched, his anger barely hiding his sorrow. 'Sometimes I do feel like I've been cursed. Nothing is ever easy for me. Don't get me wrong, Y/N, I love you and I don't regret having you in my life, but I wish things could have been different. One normal thing in my abnormal life. Guess it was too much to hope for…' It had hurt you, but you understood him.  
 Your desire to move overseas so that you can live with Ivar had been a real bone of contention between you and your parents for the past two years. You may be twenty-two, but your parents still think of you as their little girl. Of course, you don't let your 'little girl' go abroad, do you? And since you didn't want them to get mad at you, you stayed, to the great distress of your lover.  
 Speaking of Ivar, it's not even that your parents don't like him, because they do. They just don't get it. ' Why doesn't Ivar come here instead? We would be sincerly happy if you two lived together, you know? Here. In our country, that could become his.' You had argued endlessly, explaining that it was much more complicated for him to move than it was for you. Partly because of his job, obviously, but mostly because of his disease. His doctors are in Norway, his PT too, as is the surgeon who has operated on him many time. They know Ivar, his special condition, his rare genetic disorder. More importantly, he knows them, trusts them, and sadly needs them. 
 You had never been able to get through to you your parents, at least not until recently. Surprisingly, they finally changed their minds a few weeks ago and you jumped at the chance without delay, applying to Kattegat University while taking care of the red tape, all this of course behind Ivar's back, so that the surprise was complete. 
 "Well, they're not anymore." As soon as you understand that he's not sure what you're talking about, you quickly add, eyes sparkling with excitement, "Reluctant, I mean."
 "Ex… Excuse me?" Ivar stutters, clearly flabbergasted, his blue eyes widening.  
 "You heard me, Ivar. They said yes. My parents agreed. I don't know why and I don't care, but yes, they did. And so, my next academic year, which starts in two months, will be
in Kattegat." You're nearly screaming now, fully excited, your heart rate picking up speed as you remember that you're almost there. The surprise! Ivar may think you've already broken the big news, but he couldn't be more wrong. 
 "Wow! That's unexpected! Guess it's… awesome, Y/N." Swept up by your enthusiasm, you miss the way Ivar frowns, just as you don't sense the little indecision in his voice. You do notice the silence that follows, though, but even if you had hoped for a little more eagerness, it doesn't trouble you. It's Ivar, after all, your taciturn, sullen boyfriend.
 Yet his silence bothers you when you realize he's not going to ask you the question you're looking forward to. Looks like you're going to have to take charge.
 "This is the part where you're supposed to ask me when I think I'm coming, you know?" Chuckling, you wink at him, oblivious to his cool and aloof manner.
 "Ivar?" Raising your eyebrows, you try again as he remains speechless. "Did you hear me?" On an ordinary day, you'd know something's wrong. But there's nothing ordinary about today. 
 "Huh? Sorry, just got a lot on my mind…" He mumbles, lost in thought, scratching the back of his neck. "What did you…? Oh yes, got it." Holding up his index finger, he tilts his head, cracking a bashful half-smile. "Tell me Y/N, when do you plan to arrive? Two weeks before college starts, so you have time to settle in? Or one? One should be enough, what do you think?"
 Almost squeaking – that's your moment, the one you've been waiting for days – you jump out of Hvitserk's working chair."That's the thing, Ivar, that's the thing!" 
 Walking away from the desk and your laptop, you can barely hear Ivar asking where you're going as you rush to the door and through the corridor leading to his office. 
 Stopping for a second when you get there, you inhale deeply before pulling the handle down and opening the door wide. "See Ivar, that's the thing, I'm already here!"
🛡⚔️🛡
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