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horsechestnut · 8 months

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Reverse Robins!

But specifically Stephanie and Tim (with a little Jason added when it's relevant).

Note: I'm of the opinion that in Reverse Robin AUs they wouldn't actually use Robin as their code name, but for convince and clarity's sake I will be using it here.

Damian is gone. He left in a blaze of anger. They'd fought before, but this time came with a finality Bruce doesn't known how to handle.

Batman is spiraling. Without Damian around there's no need to be Bruce Wayne, no reason not to follow one more lead before turning in. No young eyes looking to him to be an example. Nothing to keep him from beating the bad guys into a comma.

Tim Drake has been watching Bruce Wayne for awhile. He's been watching Batman for longer. He saw the turn, the way the Wayne Foundation is slowly being corrupted without Bruce's over site, and the more extreme injuries criminals are coming in with. He looks at Bruce Wayne and Batman, and the man behind them both and thinks "Yeah, I can fix that." Maybe it's teenage nativity, maybe it's a drive to do something good, maybe it's the need to be in control of something in his life. Whatever it is, he acts on it.

Bruce doesn't want to let Tim be Robin. Damian was his son, and a trained assassin, Tim is a random kid with no formal training. But Tim is a random kid who figured out his identity and is actively blackmailing him with it, so he doesn't have many options.

Batman and Robin are back together. Bruce Wayne is back in board meetings. The criminals are getting a lot less bruises. Robin is far more impressive than Batman ever would have guessed he could be. Tim is falling asleep in math class, but he already knows it all anyway so it's barely worth mentioning.

There's a new vigilante in Gotham. One who sets a dangerous precedent. It's one thing for Batman to have allies, it's another for outside agents to start taking matters into their own hands. Especially when they're untrained teenagers who are looking for personal vengeance.

He does everything he can to get Spoiler to quit. He tells himself it's not just about his personal dislike of her, it's for the sake of every other misguided kid who might try to follow her lead.

He fails.

The Joker attacks Robin. He doesn't kill him, he has a worse fate in mind. He takes Batman's prodigy and makes him his own. Tries to prove that even the Bat's closest ally can be corrupted if he has a bad enough day. He succeeds, and for one terrifying night The Batman faces off against Joker Jr.

Tim survives, but he's not the same. It takes months for his injuries to heal, and even then he's haunted by what Joker turned him into. Terrified that he could snap again at the wrong moment. He tells Bruce he can't be in the field anymore, it's to big of a risk. He promises Batman he'll find another way to help.

Cluemaster is dead. He died on a suicide mission. No matter how Steph feels about it personally, logically she knows Gotham is safer without him around. Part of her can't help being relieved, and she doesn't hate that part of herself as much as she knows she should. There's no longer any need for The Spoiler.

There's an opening for Robin and Steph wants the job. Wants to prove she can do it. That she's just as good as Tim. That she's not her father. That she can make a father proud.

Batman doesn't want Stephanie. He wants Tim. But maybe Stephanie is a way to get there. To make Tim jealous enough to come back.

Bruce tells himself it's for Tim's own good. Stephanie's too. Tim needs the push, needs to be Robin again so he can overcome his fear about being the field. And Stephanie needs the training, and the focus now that Cluemaster is gone.

Robin tries, she really does. She does everything Batman asks of her, always. Except once. And once is all it takes. Robin is fired, but as she leaves the cave Stephanie grabs on to one last desperate chance to prove herself. Batman never intended for the file to be used, but Stephanie doesn't know that. Batman didn't tell her. He never told her anything.

The war that erupts is unlike anything Gotham has ever seen.

Damian comes home. It's not for Bruce. It's for Gotham, for the city that took him in despite everything.

Batman isn't listening to Oracle. He's cutting him off, overriding his systems, and treating him like nothing more than a glorified phone operator. Tim can't just do nothing. Not when his city is burning.

Black Mask captures Spoiler, and nobody notices.

Robin is back on the scene. He's reluctant at first, but once he starts it's like a switch flips. The moves are second nature, the danger is exhilarating. It isn't a game, but part of him can't help relishing it all the same. He can't remember why he stopped.

Spoiler manages to get free. She manages to ambush Black Mask. She manages to pin him to the ground, gun pointed at his head. But Steph can't pull the trigger. Two months ago she would have, but now Batman's voice is in her head. She can't let him down. Not again.

Stephanie hesitates, and in that moment Black Mask breaks her hold. He gets his gun back. There's no moral code running though the back of his head. He doesn't hesitate.

Gotham is safe. Batman did his job. Damian is back. Robin is in the field again. But Bruce is haunted by what happened. Damian is injured, Tim has nightmares, and Stephanie...

Jason Todd isn't new to being poor. He knows how to be hungry, how to fend for himself. But he is new to being homeless. The gang war left lots of kids in the Narrows orphaned, of course some of them were going to fall through the cracks, and Jason happens to be one of them. Maybe it's for the best. He's heard how the Gotham Foster System treats kids. Maybe he's better off on his own. He just needs to find a way to make some money.

Batman descends with all the furry he's been holding in. But instead of an overconfident car thief, he finds a twelve year old boy desperately clutching a tire iron, trying to seem angry instead of scared.

Bruce recognizes something in him that he can't fully explain. He takes Jason back to the manor. Gives him a home. Does everything he can to keep him away from the cave.

That lasts about two weeks.

Jason wants to give back to his community, to make sure kids don't have to deal with the shit he had to deal with. He wants to thank Bruce for helping him. He wants to be nothing like his dad. He wants to make his new father proud.

Damian is against it. Tim is against it. Bruce is against it. Jason is insistent. He decides to take matters into his own hands, to steal an old Robin suit and sneak out after the others have left. It doesn't go well. He thinks he's blown his chance, but to his surprise Batman relents. If he doesn't Jason will find a way to do it on his own, and he won't let another kid go out untrained.

Tim goes back to Oracle. The way he felt the night of the gang war still scares him sometimes, reminds him to much of Batman back when they first met. Guilt washes over him whenever ever he thinks about it. How happy he'd been, all well Steph...

He should have been in the Clock Tower that night. Should have been keeping better tabs on all of them. He should have known she was missing in action, should have been monitoring her suit's location or trying to reach out instead of just listening when Batman said not to involve her. So if there's a new kid running around in the suit, their suit, he's going to make sure this one is safe.

Robin is good. Really good. He's to angry, he's rash, he's impulsive. But he learns fast, and he seems to almost fly over Gotham. He fits the role in a way Tim never truly did.

Black Mask is dead, and someone else is using his name. Someone who's dismantling the Gotham underworld piece by piece.

Steph has a duty to the people she hurt, a duty Batman will never understand, and one she has to handle her way. Batman stopped the war, but he didn't stop the gangsters. He didn't stop Black Mask, or Scareface, or any of the others. It's not about what they did to her. She deserved it. It was her own fault. But so many others suffered because of them, because of her, and Batman did nothing to stop it. So she will.

Black Mask isn't planning to confront Batman. She doesn't care about him. She's done seeking his approval and following his rules. Doing that got her killed. It got other people killed. But there's another Robin running around, and someone needs to explain that. Steph knows by now that she was never really Robin, it was all just a trick to get Tim back. A trick that worked. So who the hell is this kid? Is he like Tim, someone Batman will keep safe, or is he just another pawn he'll sacrifice the second it's covenant? And when she finally gets around to asking, she lets more slip than she should have.

Batman knows the truth, but that's okay. It was only a matter of time before he did, and it doesn't change anything. Bruce tries to appeal to her, but what can he possibly say that could make a difference? That he's sorry?

He is, but it's to late for that. Stephanie knows the truth. She knows he never took her seriously. She knows he never trusted her. She knows it was all a game, and that in the end Batman got what he wanted even if not in the way he intended. And Bruce can't argue, because she's right. He created her, and he knows it.

Stephanie Brown is dead. She died in Leslie's clinic. She died because her doctor decided teaching Batman a lesson was worth more than her life. A lesson he didn't even bother to learn. She died because she listened to Batman even though he never bothered to listen to her. And she died because Batman used her as a chess piece. Because he wrote her off before she'd even properly begun.

Black Mask is not Cluemaster. She refuse to ever be her father. But she's not Batman either. He never gave her the chance to be. She's something else. Something between those two extremes. Something that's fully hers. She's going to protect the people Batman's to busy to care about, and if she has to kill a few people along the way, so be it. She's not playing by his rules anymore. She never will again.

Black Mask is Batman's greatest failure. Not because she died, but because he never took the time to teach her how to live.

Stephanie is Bruce's biggest regret. Not because she died, but because he didn't care about her until she did.

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90363462 · 1 year

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8 "Kinds Of Sex" All Married Couples Should Put Into Rotation

Let us be your motivation.

Shellie R. Warren

Jun. 12, 2020 05:35PM EST

The 90s is my favorite era of R&B (fight me, if you wanna). There's no time or space to get into all of the reasons why. For now, I'll provide a song example of why it's unmatched. As I was sitting down to write this piece, a song that came into my mind is the 1990 jam, "Show Me" by Howard Hewett. While the song certainly stands on its own, what I really like is the fact that his wife (at the time), Nia Peeples was in the video. His lead was his spouse. He used his visual to not only honor her but his marriage. To me, that is beyond dope infinity. And because I've always been aware of the fact that the video featured a husband and wife pairing, I always revered it with a kind of honor and, even sacredness, than a lot of other songs and visuals.

For many reasons, I see married sex the same way. When two people make the conscious choice and commitment to share the rest of their lives with one another, it just makes me respect their sex life on a whole 'nother level. That's why, as a marriage life coach, I am such an advocate for husbands and wives to participate in as much coitus as possible…as often as possible.

One time, while in a session with a couple, they asked me if there was "just one way to have sex". They weren't speaking of positions and technique. Nah, what they were referring to is should there be different ways to approach that type of intimacy with their partner. I found that to be a very insightful and profound question. While there are probably a dozen more ways than the eight that I'm about to share, I do think that in order for a husband and wife to feel truly fulfilled in their sexual intimacy with one another, there are the "kinds of sex" that need to happen on a consistent basis. If that doesn't make sense to you now, I'm hoping that it will by the time this piece is done. (Oh, and feel free to throw on some 90s R&B in the background, while you're reading, if you'd like.)

1. Morning Sex

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I can't tell you how many married couples have sang the praises of morning sex to me before.

There is one husband, in particular, who cracks me up, every time I think about what he digs so much about it. "I'm telling you, if I'm able to get some head before the day starts, my wife can hit me up about wanting a new pair of shoes, her mom coming for dinner, or her maxing out a credit card and I'm basically going to be like, 'Yes Dear'."

What is it about morning sex that is so…refreshing? For one thing, since men, on average, have five erections that last 25 minutes each throughout the night, if they wake up with morning wood, sex is a fantastic release. Also, for both men and women, morning sex is an awesome way to de-stress, reconnect and also get an energy charge before the day begins. So, if you're married and you can't remember the last time you let your genitalia rather than an alarm clock awaken you, try and be more intentional about participating in a lil' bit of morning coitus. It beats the hell out of a cup of java. No doubt about it.

2. Quickie Sex

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Whenever I think of quickie sex, necessity is what comes to mind. Although I'll be the first one to say that married sex serves a myriad of purposes (check out "10 Wonderful Reasons Why Consistent Sex In Marriage Is So Important"), let's not act like sometimes we just don't need to "get that thing off". Quickie sex isn't (always or necessarily) about being romantic or engaging in a lot of foreplay. Quickie sex is more in the lane of, "I'm horny and I need to handle this so that I can relax and/or focus and/or get on to the other stuff that I need to do."

Unfortunately, because some people think that all sex needs to look like something out of a chick flick, they don't allow themselves (or their partner) to enjoy quickies as often as they should. If you're one of those individuals, I'd encourage you to look at quickies from another angle. Shouldn't one of the benefits of being married be that sex is more convenient? Because your partner is easily accessible, you don't have to do a lot of planning and preparing. Plus, (hopefully) you both know how to get each other off, so pleasure is a surefire thing with them. Since this is the case, while brushing your teeth, sitting on the couch or preparing dinner, you can pull stuff down (or move it over), handle your business and go on with your day. To me, that is not a "problem"; that is a blessing, chile.

3. Scheduled Sex

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While some people hate the idea of scheduling sex, I don't. In fact, whenever the topic comes up, what I usually say is all scheduling sex is about is prioritizing it. While it would be nice if all sex could be "random" and "spontaneous" (more on that in just a sec), the reality is that most of us have pretty tight to-do lists. So, if we don't make it a point to plan certain things out, they would never happen. Now, no one is saying that scheduled sex means that you've got to be as tight and rigid as Mrs. Elena Richardson (Reese Witherspoon) was in Little Fires Everywhere (in her house, sex only happened on Wednesdays and Saturdays; her poor husband). But if you and yours have so much going on that scheduling sex is gonna be better than having no sex at all, pull out your Google calendar and designate when your private parts can get some quality time in. 10-15 percent of all marriages are sexless ones. I'd venture to say a big part of the reason why is because couples aren't prioritizing their sex lives nearly as much as they need to or should.

4. Spontaneous Sex

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Everything in life is about balance, right? While scheduled sex certainly serves its purpose, so does spontaneous sex. The thing that I like about this kind of copulation is, another word for spontaneous is, impulsive. To be impulsive is to participate in something that is almost involuntary. In a sexual context, it's like you want your partner so bad that you don't even think about where you are or if it's a good time or not to get some; you've got to have them and so you're gonna make it happen. If it's a public place, so be it. If it's in the middle of the day, it's all good. While life might not make it possible to be spontaneous in this way all of the time, partaking in this type of sex is a great way for your partner to feel loved and lusted (which is "a passionate or overmastering desire or craving"). It also can keep a married couple's sex life spicy and interesting.

6. Hotel Sex

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Not too long ago, I watched All Def Digital's Squad Cast talk about why they prefer to have sex at home over having sex in a hotel room (it's at the 1:25:07 mark). To be fair, a lot of them are touring comedians, so they spend a lot of time in hotels (even KevOnStage said that hotels have lost their allure because of it). But as someone who used to have quite a bit of hotel sex (back when I was having sex) and also as someone who puts married couples in hotels, free of charge, from time to time, I am a HUGE FAN of hotel sex. Hotels provide a change of scenery. If it's a quality one, the beds tend to feel amazing. And, you can oftentimes find little "perks" to make you feel pampered (like room service, couples' massages or jacuzzi tubs). While I do think it's healthy for couples to plan romantic trips at least once a year, sometimes budgets and other life demands make that a close to impossible feat to pull off. But something that almost every husband and wife can do is spend at least one night in a hotel room. I personally haven't met one couple who doesn't come back from hotel sex feeling renewed. If you've never done it, at least try it. I'd be shocked if you didn't like—no, absolutely love—it!

7. Comfort Sex

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I remember once going to a bridal shower and someone asking everyone to offer up sex advice for the bride-to-be. When it came time for a senior elder's (of a church) wife to speak, she said, "Don't deny your husband unless you're deathly ill." When some of the women turned up their nose at her response, she simply said, "I've been married almost 50 years. A lot of you are divorced." (Geeze.) While I'm definitely not the woman who thinks that people should have sex when they don't feel like it, I do think it's important for married people to treat sex like it's a staple in their relationship and not just a…hobby.

However, the reason why I'm even bringing all of this up is because I think it's important to remind some wives that when you don't feel like doing it, oftentimes it's how you refuse your husband that can potentially put a wedge between the two of you. It's so important to remember that a lot of men feel totally vulnerable when trying to initiate sex, so when they are turned down in a flippant or cold way, that can cause them to feel rejected—not just physically but as if all of them is being dismissed.

It's not talked about enough that sometimes husbands want to be with their wives, not because they are "horny" so much as they want to feel loved, accepted and yes, comforted. Listen, I am all about Black love and it's hard for Black men and women out here. If there's one place where any spouse should feel soothed, consoled and reassured, it's within their marriage. Sometimes that comes in the form of being as close to their partner as possible. Comfort sex isn't talked about, nearly as much as it should be. It's needed though. A lot.

7. Reconciliation Sex

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Reconcile is a dope word. One of my favorite definitions of it is "to bring into agreement or harmony; make compatible or consistent". While I'm not a huge fan of the phrase "make love" (because, as I oftentimes say, sex should celebrate love not create it), I do think that choosing to love someone, each and every day of your life, (hopefully) for the rest of your life, requires extreme time, effort and energy. Because a marriage consists of two flawed human beings, there are going to be times when husbands and wives are not "walking in agreement", when they aren't exactly in harmony with each other. Sometimes, one of the best ways to get back in sync with each other is to partake in what I call "reconciliation sex".

While, on the surface, that might seem like make-up sex, it's not 100 percent the same thing. Oftentimes, make-up sex is relied upon as a diversion or a coping mechanism when couples don't know how to properly communicateand/or resolve their issues. Reconciliation sex is more like…what a couple does to reward themselves once they have figured out how to get back on the same page about something. It is a physical act that affirms and confirms that they are back in agreement and harmony again. Because sex is such a beautiful, powerful and intimate thing, when two people feel like they have mentally and emotionally reunited, it can do wonders for the relationship to acknowledge that by engaging in physical intimacy. Hot, steamy, sexy, "nasty", totally mind-blowing sexual intimacy.

8. "Holy" Sex

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I picked this GIF on purpose. It's from the 1940s classic filmCabin in the Sky starring Lena Horne, Ethel Waters, Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Eddie Anderson and a host of others. If you've never seen it before, the love that Petunia (played by Waters) had for her husband, Little Joe (played by Anderson) was nothing short of spiritual and supernatural. That woman prayed for that man to break his bad habits as if her very life depended on it. It's a cinematic reminder that marriage has a sacred component to it; and so does married sex.

That's why, to me, whenever two people are married, I most definitely believe that sex is an act of worship. What I mean by that is there is a reverence in the act that is very special within a marital union. It's because of that that articles on our site like "Ashley Graham & Her Husband Say Prayer Is The Ultimate Form Of Foreplay" make complete and total sense to me and lyrics like "You're the blessing that I never thought I would get/And to the Lord I humbly bow my head" from Usher's "Here I Stand" seem like they would be the perfect kind of background music for a sex session.

If you're someone who believes that marriage is a spiritual union, then surely you must believe that the Most High is a part of it. To me, "holy sex" is about remembering the foundation and Source of your love. It's about approaching intimacy in a spirit of pure sacredness and gratitude. It's about acknowledging that, so long as your spirits are in sync, your bond is close to invincible.

Hmph. Let me tell it, if there's any "kind of sex" that a husband and wife should have the most often, this one would definitely top the list. Let the Church say, "Amen", y'all. Now what kind of sex are you and yours gonna have tonight?

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taechaos · 3 years

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Idea series oc sneaking Tae in the house after he had big fight with his father about something (your choice if it's smutty or fluff or angsty) with a peek of a vurberable Tae? Honestly i think he would change the topic as soon as he started it and prob with sex.

Anyway I'm really interest in their family dynamic since I remember don't know if it was in part one or two that you mention they have really religious parents? And seeing how harsh their dad is with Taehyung it have me wondering how is his relationship with the mother and ocs with both parents, despite everything the seem really distant from their kids, maybe thats why Tae and YN find comfort in each other. OC is the first real bond Tae made with someone so maybe that's the reason of his fear of being replaced and his obsession with her, and ocs mother probably don't pay that much attention to her so that's why even after the incident she still want him to be there. At this point I'm just rambling I'm sorry. And this ask is all over the place, started with a request and ended questioning characters life 💀💀. Sorry hehe.

when i read this yesterday i was literally blown away by this like hOLY shit your analysis is so in-depth at first i was like damn do my characters have more than oNE DIMENSION?? WHICH IS RLY FLATTERING BUT I THINK ITS JUST UR WORDS THAT MADE ME SOUND SMART 💀💀💀 the ending is chef's kiss tho made me bust a lung SHFJJD thank you so much for taking the time to write this its honestly so fucking amazing. hopefully u can see more of their family dynamic in this drabble :)

Rays of sunlight slither through the cracks in the blinds of the living room, allowing Taehyung's father enough light to scan the newspaper he holds in his hand, with the musical, happy chirping of mockingbirds filling in the silence. All of these beautiful signs of nature and peaceful rotation of the earth makes Taehyung tense up even more.

The moment he got back home from buying drugs, his father greeted him in monotone with a, "would you sit with me for a moment?" and he hasn't spoken since. The zipperbag in his pocket crinkles every time he shifts in his seat, making him cringe momentarily before he starts nervously fidgeting again.

This is so awkward and yet equivalent to hearing: we need to talk. God, why is he so silent?

Clearing his throat, Taehyung stands just as his father flips a page with a lick of his thumb. "I'm going to my room really quick."

"No."

"Oh." When will his step-mother return? She's his only hope as he sits down while avoiding looking at his father, whose gaze is set on the black and white printed pages.

It's only a minute later when he talks without diverting his gaze.

"Your sister is in her room, researching her major to get a headstart on a typical syllabus."

"Smart," he comments with disinterest and nibbles on his upper lip.

"Taehyung, how was your attendance in college?" he folds the newspaper and curiously peeks at his son, who is doing a poor job at hiding his nerves.

"It was alright–"

"Lying is a sin, son," his movements are aristocratic when he leans his chin on his fist. "Don't lie."

"I'm not," he stammers and his eyes flicker, "it was bad at the beginning of the year, but I fixed it."

His father pinches the bridge of nose where his frames lie. "I love your sister, Taehyung," he sighs and takes off his glasses, "I want her to do well. I've given up on you, but her? She can accomplish great things if you're not there to influence her. You're a bad influence. Are you following me?"

Taehyung nods dumbly with a racing heart before registering his words and shaking his head. "What?" he blurts. "I used to help her with her homework all the time–"

"You were home once every month."

"Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I didn't see her," he coldly says. That's not entirely accurate, but it is true that he saw you more than he saw his parents before he started living here again. For you.

His father is taken aback, offended as he scoffs, "You avoided me and your mother, and yet have the face to stay in our home?" He stands up and passes the coffee table that was Taehyung's only barrier to hover over him with distance. "I expected so much more from you, but you can't even do the bare minimum. An adult without a stable job, respectable girlfriend, and embarrassing grades. I'm ashamed to have raised such a boy, for I can't even call you a man."

Taehyung abruptly stands but he continues, "If you can't even pay rent, go back to that landfill you came from."

"I have to pay rent to live with my family?" He's livid and his hands shake by his sides; they're taking you away from him because what? He isn't the son they wanted him to be?

"You've made it clear that the only thing keeping you here is my daughter," he blindly points at the closed door of your room, "and you will have to try much harder to see her again. Get your life together, and you can come back."

Taehyung's face is heated with anger from the injustice. "What the fuck?! This is such bullshit; you're kicking me out?"

His father frowns at his language, growling, "Taehyung! I will not let you drag her down that path with you. When you stop destroying everything you touch, I'll gladly let you live here."

Destroy? He hasn't done any harm to anyone—especially not you. He knows he's self-destructive, but it doesn't extend to his environment. If he fails, it's his failure, but his father takes it personally instead of encouraging him to do better.

The importance of reputation and success in this family enrages him; he's aware that he's not much of an affectionate person either, but a little love wouldn't hurt to witness in the household.

Instead of defending himself or speaking his mind, he obliges bitterly.

"You need to get laid," are his last words before he slams the door and opens the zipper bag to pop a pill. Ecstasy isn't so fun when you're not around, but he can use the distraction. It's been a bad day.

He flips off a stray cat idling around the garden before casually leaving the property.

—————

Studying isn't fun for you, never has been, never will be. Though you hate every second of it, it does give you something to do to make time pass faster. You've been tutoring yourself about things you'll learn sooner or later anyway, but you guess it doesn't hurt to have to study less when the time comes.

You check the time. It's approaching night at 9 PM, and your father wouldn't protest against a break now, hopefully. He only suggested that you should start studying, but you know what his suggestions really mean.

Do it, or get shamed into doing it with subtle glances.

As if that isn't enough, he constantly checked up on you throughout the day. He wasn't exactly giving you a choice, which irks you.

But that's done and over with, and there's a more pressing matter at hand: where is Taehyung? You heard bits and pieces of the argument, but you couldn't get the whole scoop. You worry he's going to go back to his old habits of never being here, rarely seeing you. He would've been hanging out with you six hours ago out of routine... It can't just be you being clingy. Something happened.

You: are you coming home tonight?

The response takes a few minutes.

taehyung: nop

taehyung: but i am coming to ur room

taehyung: cuz ik u cant sleep without me 😖

You: actually the opposite but ok lol

You: when are you coming

taehyung: whenever u want uwu

You: uwu...?

You: just come before it gets too late

—————

So that was a lie. It's 1 AM and still no word from Taehyung. Okay, maybe you're just being clingy now, but it's unlike him not to be clingy. Maybe he wanted to cool off for a long time after his tak with your step-dad, or simply wanted to hang out with his friends after spending all of his time with you.

That makes sense. What doesn't is the slide of your window and shuffling of your curtains. You instantly sit up in your bed and clutch your blanket closer. You watch a silhouette enter your room as you pick up your limp, your tense muscles relaxing only when you recognize the intruder. You put down the lamp with a click of your tongue, ignoring the relief in your pounding heart.

"Hey," he stupidly grins at you. He looks disheveled, clothes untucked and wrinkled, and from the little light you have, you can see his redshot eyes.

"There's also the door," you remark sassily. "Are you um... high?"

He shrugs and crawls in your bed, dismissive as usual. You both make an effort to keep your voices quiet.

"I talked to mom earlier," you ease into the discussion until he butts in.

"That's great."

You roll your eyes and prop an elbow to look down at him. His head lies on his hands while staring at you, mood strangely upbeat. He's definitely high.

"She was a little sad about something, and I know it involves you. I heard you talking to–" You're interrupted with a lingering peck, a little rough in its force but not unwelcomed.

"I've missed kissing you. Shouldn't you be asleep, by the way?"

Recovering from the unexpected attack, you reply, "It's not that late. I don't have to wake up early."

"You shouldn't ruin your sleep schedule," he tucks a hair strand behind your ear without taking his eyes off of you. "Staying up is hard to stop once you start."

"Yeah, you're a great example," you joke with a quiet giggle. Whispering with him feels intimate in a heart fluttering way. His heart pangs with a feeling he can't put a finger on. "You didn't answer my question."

"Hm?"

"Don't play dumb, I'm really curious. What happened with dad?"

"A lot of things happen with dad," he shrugs, "sometimes we play catch–"

"Taehyung," you give him a pointed look, and he giggles.

"You're right, he'd never play catch with me." He groans as he stretches in your bed before trapping you with his arms on either side of you in one motion. You don't know what he's trying to do, but you watch him above you in amusement. "No offence, but when is your mom not sad when my dad is around?" he laughs with a huff.

"That's rude, Tae," you remark seriously, "she's happy when you're around."

Taehyung's smile falters like yours, his happy guise crumbling when he says, "Are you?"

"Pfft," you roll your eyes, "What do you think? I was up waiting for you."

Ah. That's not a very good influence.

"I'm here now," he whispers, "go to sleep. It's okay, I won't do anything, I know you worked hard today."

You agree with a yawn and nod. But even in your sleepy state, you can read the room—Taehyung is especially attentive of his tone and volume aside from being so tense. "Are you alright?"

"I'm in and on ecstasy," he falls back on his former spot, "I can't not be alright."

"Taehyung, I haven't seen you all day–"

"Yeah, because I didn't want to be here," he looks at you dead in the eye, "and I don't want you to be here."

You blink rapidly, slightly shaking your head in confusion, "What are you saying?"

"Move in with me."

He's met with cold silence, so he persuades persistently, "Don't you want to get away from here? You'll have so much more freedom with me, and I can help you with your assignments and everything. It'll be perfect."

"I— do you... Where?" Taehyung is high and he doesn't know what he's saying is what you believe because this is so out of the blue, so irrational, but he describes it like it's utopia; you are not completely against the idea.

"I have enough money from drug dealing to rent an apartment, and you can tell dad that you want to move out to be like an adult or whatever, that you have a stable job, without mentioning me," he rambles, and his dilated pupils are more noticeable up close; it slightly puts you off.

"Wh-what about mom?"

He scoffs, "If she wants out, she can get her second divorce. Don't worry about them; after all, they're apparently the only real adults here," he relates back to not being worthy of being called a man. You shift away from him little by little. "Just trust me."

The phrase is triggering for you, a reminder of the time you were tricked into trusting him moments before your trauma. "We'll talk about this when you're sober," you meekly say, avoiding eye contact.

A wicked smile grows on his face, "I can't wait, princess."

#idea tae #*cue big time rush theme*#just gotta say this one last time #the analysis was so well written #its honestly a sight for sore eyes 😫

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skdubbs · 4 years

Text

Let Love Find You

Chapter 1: An Awkward Introduction

Summary: Love has a funny way of finding you when you’re not looking for it. Commander Fox discovered this the hard way when a box arrived on base and pique his interest.

Here it is. I can’t believe I'm finally doing this. A huge huge HUGE shoutout and thank you to @detroitbydark for all of the encouragement, feedback, and listening to my ramblings about this story. You’re the best.

This story will be the first in a collection of three interconnected stories taking place at the same time. I hope you all enjoy!

It all started with a box.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard stared at the parcel currently sitting on his desk amidst piles of carefully cataloged holopads. The contents of said package laid innocently next to the box. He’d had part of it scanned and tested, twice. Absolutely nothing alarming to be found. And yet Fox was still unsettled.

In the year since taking up his post, he’d never been rendered speechless. Well, today the boys could mark it down in the books. Truly, the commander didn’t know what to say. Or think. Or do. The mental conundrum Fox found himself in was beyond exasperating. Sighing, Fox shook his head, then glanced at the flimsi note he held. Once more, he read the delicately written script.

To: Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard

Dear Sir,

I’m sure this package and its contents might cause alarm and confusion. Please don’t allow it to do either. This is simply a token to express my thanks to the troopers involved with the skirmish in the market district on Level 3 nearly four rotations ago. Their actions saved my life and that of my daughter. When we expressed our gratitude, my daughter felt the shock trooper didn’t think we were sincere. Hence, this small gift. I ask that you please see to it that the troopers involved receive this token and understand how grateful we were for their timely arrival. For there are citizens on this planet who are aware of the services the Guard provides to ensure our continued safety and peace. Thank you for your help in this matter.

Sincerely,

Arissa Blunt

Fox knew without looking it up what skirmish Ms. Blunt referred to, as well as the troopers involved. Reach’s report had made mention of the two citizens he’d pulled away from the fire fight, a young woman and child. Interestingly enough, Fox had also heard through the guard barrack’s grapevine that Reach spent most of that night crowing about a civvie thanking him and how pretty she’d been. According to Reach, her body was a man’s wet dream.

At the time Fox had scoffed and pushed the matter out of his mind. He had far more important matters to contend with than one of his trooper’s infatuations. All of the men would have one at some point or other. It was a natural result with overexposure to civilians after a lifetime of social isolation. Fox was one of the few he knew to never fall to such an affliction. That didn’t mean he hadn’t dabbled and explored his options. The commander had simply never experienced the magic of someone capturing his attention for more than a moment of a little physical pleasure. Until now.

Commander Fox was intrigued, all because of a box of homemade ginger spice cookies, a short note, and an infatuated trooper’s embellished description. Again, Fox sighed. Maker, he needed a drink. And it wasn’t even 1200 yet.

He commed Captain Stone, the squad leader there on the day in question.

“This is Stone,” came the greeting.

“Captain, round up the troopers involved in the skirmish on Level 3, I’m sure you remember the one,” Fox instructed. “They’ve got a gift waiting for them in my office. Apparently Reach’s story wasn’t completely fabricated.”

There was a beat of stunned silence. It was brief, but Fox knew it for what it was. Shock. “Right away, sir,” Stone replied.

Fox disconnected, then turned to inspect the baked goods still sitting on his desk. Ginger spice cookies. Homemade, no less. Damn, they smelled good.

Fox smirked. What the men didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. He plucked one cookie from the pile, taking a small bite to test the flavor. A groan of delight broke past his lips. This was one of the best frekkin’ things he’d ever had the pleasure of eating, and that's saying something. After all, the position of Commander of the Coruscant Guard afforded certain luxuries and privileges that few other clones were allowed.

The commander took another bite, savoring the taste. What he wouldn’t give to have something this good to eat every day. His eyes found the note again, sitting on his desk in stark contrast to everything else. Arissa Blunt. One has to wonder what kind of woman she was. Fox had every intention of finding out.

-----

After giving the boys their gift (the looks of shock and delight on their faces had caused a grin on his), Fox decided to investigate. It took little effort to find the information he needed. Another perk to his position.

Arissa Blunt, single human female aged 22 standard years. Currently a member of the Republic military’s research and development division located here on base. His brows had raised at that. He merely needed to leave his office and walk across the facility in order to find her. Her focus was prototype military-grade weapons. So, she worked on creating better ways for his brothers on the front to do their job. While he didn’t know her, Fox felt a swell of appreciation for this woman.

He was shocked and intrigued to find she held her position with no formal training. Instead, Ms. Blunt came into the program through the recommendation of a member of the board. It was highly irregular. Perhaps some nepotism was involved? But that made no sense either. According to her file, Ms. Blunt had no living relatives, only a young daughter named Gemma. Cute name, he’d thought.

Out of curiosity, Fox looked her up too. Gemma Blunt, single human female aged 5 standard years. Currently enrolled on scholarship at a school for gifted young children located noooo in a more well-to-do area of the upper levels. So, the kid was smart.

A part of Fox was impressed. And even more intrigued, especially as he gazed at Ms. Blunt’s photo. Reach hadn’t exaggerated, she was quite pretty. Not in the glamour model sort of way. But you could see the potential lying underneath her cute veneer should she ever try to be one. And those eyes….well, they’d surprised him too. Most humans didn’t have violet colored eyes, at least not naturally. But on her they were stunning. They drew you in and spoke volumes. As if the secrets they held were more than just her own. She could know yours without you evening realizing. A fanciful thought perhaps, but there all the same.

And that is why Commander Fox found himself making the long trek to the R&D division on base a few hours later. Amazingly, he had an hour free. Plenty of time to pay Ms. Blunt a visit. He could convey the men’s appreciation and slake his curiosity.

He’d found a technician by the name of A’tron Rogers when he arrived. The man had the audacity to scoff at him when he stated who he was looking for. Fox wisely kept his helmet on, knowing full well what kind of person he was dealing with. It was rather obvious what Mr. Rogers thought of clones and about doing anything for them. One had to wonder why he was in a position that required him to help create weapons that helped said clones.

“Yeah, she’s back here,” he’d snapped. “Follow me.”

Resisting the urge to call the man on his insubordination, Fox followed. They made their way further back into the lab and came to a stop at what looked to be some kind of long range canon. However, the weapon wasn’t what caught Fox’s attention.

Fox froze, his brain gone blank. Before his eyes, bent over at just the right angle, was perhaps the most perfectly shaped ass he’d ever seen. His mouth watered while his blood rushed south. Mentally, he cursed. This was not a good way to start an introduction.

“Blunt!” Rogers practically screeched, trying to get the technician's attention. It certainly did the trick, albeit in a painful way. Arissa’s head shot up, caught by surprise, only to have it collide with the paneling of the prototype she’d been working on. A string of low muttered curses followed the loud clang. Fox winced in sympathy.

After a moment or two, Arissa straightened, seemed to take a steadying breath, then turned to face them. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second when they landed on him. However, she recovered quickly, her face becoming unreadable as she turned to her coworker.

Fox wished he could say the same. That beautiful shebs he’d been staring at not long ago should have warned him at what else he’d see. Because, by the maker, Reach hadn’t exaggerated. Not one bit. Arissa Blunt truly was a man’s wet dream. Her hair was up and covered, but he didn’t need to see the dark brown wavy locks again to know how it finished the masterpiece that stood before him. Even wearing coveralls covered in grease splotches couldn’t detract from that hourglass figure or the small waist. And her breasts. By Fett, they were a handful and more. So much more. Again, Fox was grateful he’d chosen to keep his bucket on. He’d have looked like a gaping fool otherwise.

Arissa addressed Rogers, her voice even and devoid of emotion. “Did you need something, Rogers?”

The shorter man huffed, obviously put out by her lack of response to him. Fox made a mental note of that. Maybe it wasn’t just clones the man had a problem with. “You’ve got a visitor. Commander Fox here needs to speak with you.”

The technician’s gaze swung over to him, that violet gaze holding him captive. Again, he noticed a moment of trepidation, as if she feared his presence. Fox scowled, annoyance flaring. Her reaction was classic for a citizen. They either looked at him and his brothers with fear or disdain. He wasn’t sure which pissed him off more.

“I see,” she replied. “Well, I’m due a fifteen anyway. If you need me, we’ll be in the conference room.”

Rogers snorted, then left. Yup, that chakaaryc really didn’t like Arissa Blunt. Fox focused his attention on the woman before him. As he looked closer, her nerves became more obvious. What did she have to be nervous about?

“Ms. Blunt,” he greeted, his voice stiff and formal.

“Commander Fox,” she greeted in return. Grabbing a rag, she wiped her hands off, then motioned for him to follow her. “Whatever you need to tell me, it’d be best said in the conference room. Otherwise, everyone else in the department will know about it before the end of the day. You wouldn’t think it, but the lot here are as bad as a bunch of gossiping housewives.”

Nodding, he followed. As they left the lab and made their way down the hallway, Fox couldn’t help his eyes from looking. The sway of those hips were going to haunt him. Another curse ran through his mind.

Soon enough they reached their destination, Arissa gesturing him inside. He took up a position further in, standing at attention while he waited for her to shut the door.

“Would you rather sit, Commander?”

“No thank you, miss. But please don’t stand on my account. Have a seat.”

He patiently waited while Arissa got comfortable. Once she seemed settled, he dove right in. “I assume you know why I’m here?”

That flash of trepidation was back. It was gone immediately, but still, he saw it.

“I think so,” she quietly answered. Her tongue came out to wet her lips. Despite himself, Fox felt a knee jerk reaction to the tiny movement. Maker, this needed to stop. Now.

“Then explain yourself,” he ordered.

That got her attention. Arissa straightened, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Explain myself? I thought the note I left was pretty self-explanatory.”

“Perhaps,” he hedged. “However, your reaction to my appearance here would say otherwise. I thought you appreciated what the guard does for the citizens of Coruscant. Someone who is appreciative doesn’t respond with fear in their eyes.”

Arissa’s eyes widened, first in shock, then in anger. However, when she next spoke, her voice remained even. “From my point of view, your sudden appearance here is rather suspect. Troopers, let alone commanders, don’t make random visits to this part of the base. Any fear you saw was my worry that I’d done something wrong.”

That made Fox pause, considering. Her words in the note had sounded sincere. And someone who feared or hated clones wouldn't have sent something in the first place, not without it having some sort of repercussion. Perhaps she had a point. Finally, Fox relaxed his stance.

“I suppose your reaction would make sense then,” he conceded. “I apologize for alarming you, Ms. Blunt.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known. I’m sorry I gave you the impression I was like all those ungrateful idiots out there.”

Fox stared at her. Well, that was certainly one way of putting it. Apparently Ms.Blunt lived up to her name. He cleared his throat. “Now that that’s settled, would you mind explaining to me why you felt the need to do such a thing?”

Arissa started fiddling with a loose thread of her coveralls. A nervous tick. “I already told you in the note I sent with the package. My daughter thought the trooper who helped us didn’t believe we meant what we said. I was helping to make him see otherwise.”

A scoff escaped him. “Forgive my own cynicism then. I’m used to people having ulterior motives. It’s my job to find them.” He shrugged. “So, it’s a little hard to believe there wasn’t something else behind your actions, appreciated as they are.”

While he knew he was being something of a di’kut, Fox needed to know. He wasn’t lying. Any civilian he’d ever met had some sort of ulterior motive, most often to the detriment of his men.

She didn’t speak for a while, sitting there in quiet contemplation. Then, those violet orbs caught the gaze of his visor and held it. She wanted to get this right, he realized. She wanted him to believe her. “Maybe because men who didn’t have a choice in choosing this life deserve something good once in a while.”

Speechless, that’s what he was. She said it so plainly and without artifice. Fox knew she meant it, every word.

“I see,” he replied, voice quiet and low. “Well, allow me to express my gratitude and that of my men. It may not seem like much, but those sweets were the first gift any of those men have ever received. It might be the only one.”

“You’re very welcome, Commander Fox.” Her voice was quiet too, her eyes soft and understanding. How Fox wished he could get lost in them for more than just a few minutes. It was time to go. Now.

“You’ll excuse me then, Ms. Blunt, for taking up your time. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I’ll see myself out.” Fox made to do just that, not leaving her a chance to say anything in return. He was almost to the door when-----

“Commander, could I ask a favor?”

Fox stopped, then looked over his shoulder. Here it comes. “What is it?”

Arissa gulped, her nerves showing once more. Fox smirked. Already in such a short amount of time, Fox knew he’d enjoy setting her on edge on a regular basis. It was a shame their paths likely wouldn’t cross again.

“I know this may seem silly, but would you be willing to write a short note to my daughter? I know it’d mean the world to her to hear how much the troopers that helped us enjoyed the cookies.”

“Can’t you just tell her?”

“I could,” she allowed. “But she might think I’m lying. Sometimes she has a hard time believing things if she doesn’t have evidence. Finding out you came to tell me yourself just how much the gift was appreciated will be suspect without some kind of proof.”

“Is your daughter really that cynical?”

Arissa laughed, shaking her head. Fox had to admit she had a lovely laugh. Fett, he was going soft. “No, not cynical, commander. Just a child who needs encouragement that something is real when she’s had so many other disappointments.”

While Fox was curious as to what she meant by that statement, he didn’t ask. Honestly, what was the harm in writing the kid something? There was none. Besides, he was more than happy to do it.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint.”

The smile she gave him made an answering one pull at his lips. Thankfully, his helmet hid the sight. Yeah, this was definitely not good.

------

“Mommy! You’re home!” Gemma squealed in happiness as Arissa stepped through the door. Arissa was barely inside before her five-year-old daughter wrapped her tiny arms around her torso and squeezed.

Arissa paused, soaking the moment in. A smile pulled at her lips while the hint of tears teased her eyes. This right here made everything worth it. The ridiculously long days. The demeaning remarks and catty behavior from her coworkers. This was her why, the reason she kept putting up with everything.

She wrapped her arms around Gemma and squeezed back. “Hello to you too, Gemma. Did you miss me?”

“Yes!” Gemma pulled back, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing in her excitement. “Did you miss me?”

Arissa chuckled, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “Yes, sweetie.”

“Welcome home, Arissa. Long day?”

Arissa glanced up, making eye contact with the teenager lounging on the lumpy pale green couch in the apartment space that served as a living room. She barely withheld a grimace, thinking back over her day. “Just the usual, Trix.”

Although it really hadn’t been. Not when a certain unsettling clone commander decided to pop in and pay an unexpected visit. Gods, she’d thought for a moment there she’d done something wrong, that somehow the gift Gemma had practically begged her to make was illegal. Panic had filled Arissa, assuming the worst. But then he’d thanked her. Thanked her. Like a box of ginger spice cookies was the best gift his men had ever received. That wasn’t really too far off the mark, though, was it? And that black visor. When he’d held her gaze, Arissa had felt as if she were naked. She couldn’t remember anyone ever making her fell that way. Definitely not something one wants to feel upon meeting a commanding officer of the GAR.

Shaking her head, Arissa focused back in on the present. “Did the two of you eat yet?”

Trix suddenly appeared uncomfortable, a look of guilt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah, we did. I, um, thought it’d be nice to treat Gemma to something. We went to Dex’s Diner and had the works. Saved some for you, too.”

While she knew why Trix might feel guilty, Arissa couldn’t fault the teenager for spending the money instead of eating the leftovers in the fridge. A year of being homeless and dodging traffickers and drug dealers had done a number on Trix. The kid’s useless father had abandoned her just days after her mother passed away. And the lower levels of Coruscant were not kind to the young and innocent. Arissa knew this fact quite well. Trix was finally getting back on her feet, working at a local bakery to make some money while attending school at night to finish her primary education. She lived in the third bedroom and watched Gemma when Arissa had to work late. And Trix positively adored her. So if Trix wanted to spoil Gemma with a night of burgers and shakes, Arissa wasn’t going to complain. She was far too grateful for the help to even think of chastising the teenager for splurging.

“That sounds like a lot of fun. Thanks for thinking of me,” She smiled at Trix, hoping the teenager understood she wasn’t mad. “I can’t remember the last time I had Dex’s. Is it as good as I remember?”

Gemma giggled. “Even better! Oh, and we got to meet Dex. Did you know he’s a besalisk? I’ve never seen one before. He answered all my questions, too. Didn’t act like I was a bother or anything.”

“Of course he wouldn’t. Because he realized right away what a bright and inquisitive mind you have, sweetie.” Arissa’s heart warmed at the kindness the diner owner had unknowingly extended her daughter. Gemma truly was inquisitive, wanting to know anything and everything. And amazingly she remembered it all. However, there were some people who found the girl’s nearly constant questions an annoyance and something to discourage. It was why she’d done so poorly in school until transferring into a private academy. Thank the maker for that scholarship. She bent over and lifted Gemma up, holding the young girl as she made her way to their small kitchen table. “Now spill. How was your day?”

Asking Gemma that question was all the kiddo needed to start regaling her mother with the events of the day. Arissa listened attentively as she went about putting her dinner together. She laughed when Gemma explained how a boy in her class had water come out of his nose during lunch and praised her when told how she’d received perfect marks on yesterday’s exam. Trix stayed with them for a while, interjecting comments here and there before retreating to her room to start on her school work. They wished the sixteen-year-old good night as mother and daughter both knew they likely wouldn’t see the teenager again until morning. Arissa was done with her dinner and working on a mostly thawed nerf milkshake by the time Gemma asked how her day went.

Arissa had thought long and hard how she wanted to present her surprise. She pulled the note from her back pocket and slid it across the table’s surface. “I had an unexpected visitor today. He asked me to give you this.”

Curious, Gemma carefully unfolded the note. Even at such a young age she handled everything with a great deal of care. Violet eyes scanned the note, then widened in shock. When Gemma finally looked back up she was smiling from ear to ear. “He wrote a note. He really wrote a thank you note!”

The smile breaking across Arissa’s face almost hurt. Seeing her daughter’s happiness at something so small was beyond precious. Mentally, she filed the image away to remember when the moody teenager years hit. “I was told not to read it. That it was top secret until your eyes saw what was inside. Think you could read it to me?”

Gemma nodded enthusiastically.

“It says: Dear Miss Gemma. Thank you for the lovely gift of ginger spiced cookies. I have shared your present with the troopers involved in the skirmish four rotations ago in the market. They were very surprised and grateful for your thoughtfulness. They rarely get a thank you for their work. Your mother tells me you are a bright student and love to learn new things. Did you know that members of the guard love uj cake? I highly recommend trying it. Please continue to do your part as a good and loyal citizen of the Republic.

Sincerely,

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.”

The excitement radiating off of Gemma was contagious. She truly was happy from Commander Fox’s words. Arissa sent a silent thank you to the commander for taking the time to fulfil her request. Maybe she could find a way to let him know how much his note meant. But he must be very busy. Why would he care about any of this?

If he didn’t care, why would he bother in the first place? He could have said no.

“Do you think I could write a reply, mommy?” Gemma asked. “Maybe we could make them some uj cake since they like it so much and leave a note with it like before.”

That made Arissa pause. “Perhaps. But don’t you think the rest of the guard might get jealous when only a few of them get to have some?”

Gemma’s brow furrowed as she contemplated that possibility. “I guess you’re right. I know I wouldn’t like it if only a few of my classmates kept getting something and I didn’t.” Then her face brightened. “Maybe we could make some for everyone! That way no one felt left out. Oh but,” Gemma frowned as she realized something. “That wouldn’t work either. There’s so many of them, aren't there?”

Arissa hmmed, feeling her heart squeeze with regret as her daughter’s face fell. For someone so young, she truly had a compassionate and giving nature. She wanted everyone to be happy. “I’m not sure how many there are, but yes, there are a lot of men in the guard. Far too many for us to make enough for everyone. I’m sorry sweetie.”

The evening wore on, the hours passing as the world outside transitioned from day to night. Despite her disappointment, Gemma managed to recover. They played a few games, took care of Gemma’s bath, and cuddled on the couch to watch a silly holomovie before Arissa announced it was time for bed. Arissa read a story of her daughter’s choosing, sang her a song, and kissed her good night. Once Arissa left the room, she’d make a cup of tea and curl up on the couch with a book, losing herself in the passionate romance of her current novel before heading to bed as well. It was like so many other night’s, this ritual their evenings had become. But tonight would be different.

“Mommy?”

Arissa paused, turning back to face her daughter. Only the top of her head and her eyes were visible above the fuzzy purple comforter she’d cocooned into. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Will you please tell Commander Fox thank you for writing me that note? I really did like it. And I think he’d like to know that, too.”

The breath whooshed out of Arissa’s lungs. She hadn’t expected this. But how could she refuse? “Of course, Gemma. I’ll tell him tomorrow. Now, get some sleep. You have a big day at school in the morning.”

“Can you make rainbow berry pancakes for breakfast?”

Arissa couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, Gemma’s tone was just too hopeful. “I think I can manage that. Now, sleep little one.”

Gemma giggled, happy at her mother’s answer. “Okay, okay. Good night, Mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Gemma.”

Arissa closed the door and made her way to the kitchen. She tinkered around the small space, getting things ready for the morning while her tea water boiled, then steeped. Once finished, she grabbed the old and worn romance novel off her caf table, the flimsi pages yellowed with age. She happily made herself comfortable on the couch as she dove into the world of high passion…..

Five minutes later, Arissa was back in the kitchen, a notepad open to a clean page while her holopad came to life. She scrubbed a hand over her face, sighing. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” As soon as the piece of technology was up and running, she began bringing up Republic military records, trying to get an accurate head count of how many men filled the ranks of the Coruscant Guard.

------

Now, while Arissa was toiling away at the kitchen table trying to work out a plan to fulfill her daughter’s wish, said daughter was busy working on another matter instead of sleeping.

Gemma waited for her holopad to boot up, reading the note from Commander Fox almost obsessively. She’d never thought in a million years her mother would come home with any kind of news about the gift she’d begged her to make. Instead, she’d brought home a note. A note! Gemma very quietly giggled, pressing her face into her pillow to better muffle the noise. She was in the next star system from how happy that little piece of flimsi had made her. The five-year-old sent a desperate plea to the gods, asking them for the chance to meet this Commander Fox. Yes, she’d asked her mom to thank him, but she wanted the chance to tell him herself how much his note meant to her. And she wanted to show him just how much she could learn when she set her mind to it.

Finally the holopad came on and Gemma brought up a search engine. Adults were always so surprised when they saw how well she could navigate tech at her age. For whatever reason, it was astonishing. Gemma didn’t pretend to understand why. Carefully, she typed in uj cake, then hit search. She skimmed over a promising article. It did sound rather yummy. Perhaps she could convince her mom to help her make some after school tomorrow and she could share it with the class. The kids would probably like that. Maybe it’d help her make a few friends.

The article said the recipe came from Mandalore. Intrigued, Gemma decided to search the planet, not knowing what she was getting herself into. What she read fascinated her. Hours went by and Gemma refused to sleep, far too invested in learning more about this old creed of warriors. She had only nodded off when her mother came to wake her, far earlier than usual.

Gemma’s groggy eyes met her mother’s. “What is it, mommy? Is something wrong?”

Arissa shook her head, a hint of mischief lighting her eyes. “No, sweetie. I just needed your help with something. How would you like to help me make some uj cake this morning? I think a certain clone commander would appreciate it.”

It took a moment for Gemma’s sleepy brain to understand exactly what her mother was saying. When she did, she shot out of bed so fast she almost knocked her mother over. Excitement took care of the exhaustion she’d felt just moments ago.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, then dashed out the door to the kitchen, her mother’s laughter following after her.

What neither realized then was how their actions that morning would come to shape the rest of their lives.....and those throughout the galaxy.

#commander fox #commander fox x original character #original female character #clone x ofc #I am so freaking excited this is finally up and going

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distrackles · 5 years

Text

Resistance: Part 2

Dean Winchester x OFC

MASTERLIST

Loathe /verb/ : feel intense dislike or disgust for.

- B o -

My wrists were raw, and my arms finally stopped buzzing with pins and needles and have gone to no feeling at all. Except for the fact that the dead weight of them felt even heavier. Any blood on my skin was now dry and crusted into patches. The room was silent, but it made me feel less alone than I would with sound. I guess it turned out that Sam and I were slightly underestimating how many vampires were in the nest. I can briefly remember sneaking into the old home with Riley slightly behind me. I can still hear her yelling out for me when I had my back turned. I still feel the scrapes around my waist and the grip marks up and down my torso from where I struggled against the son of a bitch. Despite all of that, I am unable to shake the anxiety of not knowing if Riley is okay. Without being able to resist the pain surrounding me, my brain decides to end its thought process, and it's lights out.

- D e a n -

I didn't know what time it was when Sam was repeatedly pushing me to wake up. At first, his voice sounded muffled and far away, but as the words started to comprehend in my mind, I was wide awake.

"What did you just say?" I bark out at him with the gruff voice sleep tends to give me. Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes, he must have figured I hadn't been totally aware the whole time he was speaking.

"Bobby called," He gives a pause to see if I'm really listening this time, he continues when I give a nod. "The girls, Bo and Riley, haven't called him back since before going into the vamp nest." I make a hand gesture to give off a "what is your point here?" message.

"Jesus Dean, he's worried about them, it's been a few days and he wants us to check everything out since we're closer." After that, it takes us about fifteen minutes to get on the road and back towards that small, dreadful town. Sam rattles off directions here and there to get us where we are supposed to be, and we are at our destination by the evening.

By the time we get ourselves quietly into the house we both know that there has to be multiple vampires in there just by sound. I gesture for Sam to go one way down the hall and I point towards the downstairs doorway that I am going down.

- B o -

I don't know how many hours or days I was out for, but when I wake up it is to the sound of clashing and a familiar voice yelling something along the lines of "suck on this, you son of a bitch!". It was the first time I felt relieved to hear that voice. And it was also the first time I cracked a bit of a smile in however long we've been here.

I give several attempts at screaming, but it takes me a minute of swallowing a bunch before my throat is wet enough to speak. As soon as I get the chance, I yell out Dean's name. There is more crashing after I hear him call back to me. While I could only wait, I hoped that Sam had come along too, and that he was taking care of Riley because that would give me a second chance to get out of here. Not that I didn't believe Dean could handle this at all, but you never know. When the door finally creaked open, it happened so slow that I thought it was gonna be a vampire instead of Dean. But then I saw his face as he came closer, and it didn't look like the same cocky Dean that was content with himself that I had met days ago. His features were taut, eyebrows frowning at me, and his jaw protruding with how tight his teeth were clenched. In addition to that, he had the glistening crimson blood down the side of his face in contrast to his fair skin.

His hands go up to the ropes around my wrists, with a machete in one, and he cuts my arms down. I almost fall to my knees as soon as my feet hit the ground, but he was ready to catch me before that could happen. Wrapping one arm around the bottom of my back, he holds me up against him so he can untie the remaining rope attaching my hands together. Once they are separated and I have gained my footing back, he looks me over the same way Riley would do. His angry eyes search for any evident injuries that are in need of attention, but luckily none are visible, which saves me the extra embarrassment. He moves himself partially behind me, and rests a rather gentle hand on my back, nudging me to walk out of the room and up the stairs. His hand doesn't leave my back until we are outside and in sight of Riley and Sam.

Riley immediately leaves Sam's side and pulls me into an embrace that speaks louder than any words can describe. We both can tell each other that we're okay just by a single pat of the back or a squeeze of a shoulder.

"You're alright." Her statement comes out with a questioning undertone.

"We can talk about it when we get home." I say quietly to her. Riley nods and turns back to Sam and Dean. As she proceeds to thank them both, Dean is looking at me over her head, and I can't bring myself to look away. The only reason I do is because I hear Riley utter something about inviting them to stay at our house for the weekend.

"Yeah, that sounds easier than going all the way back to Kansas right away, Dean?" Sam asks, and the pressure of Dean's gaze is removed from my head. His reply is a simple shrug and nod. Our house was about an hour and a half away from the town that the nest was in, that's why Bobby called us about it. I figured the boys just heard about it from news articles. Riley parks her car in the single garage of our home and lets Dean park in the driveway. We head in through the door connected to the garage and I let Riley take on assigning Sam and Dean a place to crash, as I head upstairs to the bathroom to clean up. After ten minutes of me standing in the mirror with a sports bra and my dirty jeans on, someone knocks on the door. I straighten out from my twisted position that I was in from trying to see all of the scratches, and open the door.

Dean scratches the back of his neck and gestures behind him towards the stairs. "Sam offered to help Riley patch herself up and she let him, so I was wondering if you needed uh- help?" He shifts his weight from one leg to the other as I blink at him.

"I think I'm okay, thanks." I turn back towards the inside of the bathroom, and he sucks in a breath at the sight of my back. And I know he didn't do that because he was particularly attracted to my back, but because I could feel the dry feeling of old blood somewhere on there and he got the first view of the wound.

"How do you plan on patching that up on your own?" He questions amusedly and I shoot him a dark look.

"I'll figure it out." I say defensively and he laughs, taking a seat on the lidded toilet.

"I'd love to see that." He smirks, and I'm temporarily back to loathing him. I twist back around to try and position my back into view of the mirror, but also not too far to where I won't be able to turn my head to see it. With a quick glance in the glass, I can see Dean looking back at me, face still smeared with blood, but a goofy smile forming his lips.

"It's not funny." My voice is stern and offended at the same time. Dean stands up, goes to the counter-top, and picks up some rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad.

"Didn't say it was." He defends himself, lifting the contents in his hand questioningly. I sigh and straddle the toilet seat, so he now has access to my back. First, he presses a wet washcloth to the wound to wipe away the blood, but when he starts applying the alcohol soaked cotton to it, I wince and hiss. Dean mutters an empty apology, and his arm comes over my head to the open cupboard above the toilet where the stitching material is.

"Need something to bite on?" He teases and I shake my head, and he starts stitching the wound together. It took a good ten minutes of whimpers held back in my throat until he finally finishes. I sense his lingering pause before he gets off his knees, and puts all of the medical supplies away.

"Thank you." I say quietly, only slightly hoping he didn't hear me, but he did. And when I move to leave the bathroom, he blocks me. Our bodies are very close to touching, they might as well be since I can feel his breath and body heat radiating off of him. I look up at him with a questioning look.

"That could have been an even closer call than it was, you know?" His amused face has changed back to the serious one he had hours ago. My head nods in agreement before he continues.

"I know that I already said we have some things in common, and not asking for help is probably the worst thing we got."

"Then I guess it's a good thing we have Bobby in common too, yeah?" I give a small smile, before slipping past him and into the hallway. When I get close to my bedroom, I glance back to see him still standing by the bathroom. After taking a quick second to make my next decision, I nudge my head in a welcoming gesture. Dean makes his way towards me, as I disappear into my bedroom he follows behind.

"Instead of making you sleep on the couch, we can share the bed, I trust that you're not gonna kill me in my sleep." As I rotate a pillow so that it is vertical on the mattress, to create a small barrier between one side of the bed to the other, I think what sleep? Dean had chuckled lightly at my comment and shook his head. He strips off a couple layers of clothes until he's in a black t-shirt. When he goes to get onto one side of the bed, I clear my throat loudly.

"What?" Dean asks, pausing his actions.

"You are not getting into my bed with those nasty ass pants on." He puts his hands up defensively and has no issue pulling his pants off, before getting in bed. I won't lie, it wasn't a bad sight to see.

Going to the bathroom, I take clothes to change into for bed and brush my teeth, wrapping my hair up in a knot on top of my head. When I get back to my room, Dean is already out cold. I leave the bedside lamp on as I get in bed beside him. For the first time in what feels like my whole life, I fall into a deep, and comfortable sleep.

#dean winchester #dean x ofc #sam winchester #sam x ofc #hunters #supernatural #crystal reed #kaya scodelario #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine

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fly-pow-bye · 5 years

Text

Powerpuff Girls 2016 - “Bucketboy!”

Written by: Haley Mancini

Written & Storyboarded by: Benjamin P. Carow, Caitlin Vanarsdale

Directed by: Nick Jennings, Bob Boyle

Oh, bucket.

The episode begins with Barry serving up some bakery items from his own recipes, one of the traits he managed to keep between Can't Buy Love and this episode. Unfortunately, that appeared to be his only trait!

Mayor: I'm a-twitter for these fritters!

Barry: Thanks, whoever you are!

This is as close as we get to Barry's potential "beware the Illuminati" character, as he would be the person most likely to see the Mayor as a body double. More likely than not, and judging by how this character acts in the rest of the episode, this is just a "Barry is silly" joke.

Suddenly, a monster named Gothra shows up to grab that silly boy. The Powerpuff Girls just as suddenly show up to tell him to stop bugging their friend. Before he could even tell his side of the story, unless he's one of those mythical non-talking animals, these bug-eyed freaks rush in to swat this bug-eyed giant bug out of the sky. I wince for the inevitable scene that seems to follow such scenes...

But, in a surprise twist, we actually do get a psychedelic slideshow beatdown! A punch in the face, a kick in the eye, and then a rotating image of Gothra zooming across a shot of Townsville. They must have been playing some more of those overly violent robot fighting games; it's far from their usual "stay in one place and/or assume he's a good monster" strategy. This fight must turn out to be a bad thing.

Well, kind of. Not that grateful about being saved, Barry sadly states that he wants to be a hero just like the Powerpuff Girls, and not just the useless Barry that can't even protect his gingerbread cookies. They give him a similar speech to the one they gave Bubbles in Memory Lane of Pain, except this is a lot more deserved, as Barry is just an ordinary boy. An ordinary boy with a Korean ninja mom, but they do not really talk about that anymore.

They let Barry go, thinking that their message about how he could be a "Super Barry" will not go misinterpreted. The next day at the cafeteria, Barry barges through the doors with a new identity, something he desperately needed.

Indeed, he took the identity of Quailman from Doug, complete with him wearing his underwear over his one-piece suit, and a towel for a cape! No, it's just SuperBarry. It's a wonder why he decided to wear a mask if he's just going to use his real name anyway. As he makes a feeble attempt to cartwheel across the room only to fall flat on his face, the Puffs realize calling him Super Barry was not a good idea.

Blossom tries immediately to talk some sense into him, but there's already danger a foot. Yeah, that's not as catchy as "there's evil a-foot".

It's a generic bully wanting to get his generic lunch money from a generic wimpy kid who may or may not have a generic diary. This bully kind of looks like a Ren & Stimpy character, and it's a missed opportunity that he doesn't get any exaggerated reaction shots. Left with no choice, he decides to use his superpower: his fists of fury! Clearly, with the help of his Korean ninja mom, this has to be some impressive Taekwondo!

Yeah, more like Taekwandon't. As Barry aimlessly wanders around the cafeteria circling his arms, the Powerpuff Girls show up and stare at the bully angrily, their pupils filled with fire, and that alone causes the bully to run away crying. I wouldn't blame him; he couldn't have possibly known to throw crayons at them.

The kid getting bullied opens his eyes and sees Barry in his superhero costume, and assumes he was the one who "scared him away". Everyone then joins in with his cheering. Buttercup isn’t too pleased, though she does awkwardly say that even her heart melted a little when she saw that he was happy "and crud".

However, Blossom assures her that no harm could possibly be done if Barry thinks he’s a superhero. Sure, he might think he could fly, but that never seems to cross her mind. After all, sometimes humans just fly in this universe, just ask Princess. They get a call from the Mayor that a monster is attacking the city, and not just any monster.

Once again, we see the creative genius of the monster designs. After we saw a goth Mothra, we get a giant sentient garbage can that does the Can Can. Well, I can't say this garbage can is not in an appropriate show. Honestly, monsters like these make me wonder about their origin stories. Maybe Barry threw some uranium into a trash can. Wouldn't be the first time that ended up making a monster.

Before Buttercup can dent this vile beast, they hear a familiar call from the brand new superhero they accidentally made. SuperBarry tries to use his trademark Fists of Fury again, but the Can Can Man kicks his building before he could even attempt to do any contact.

Barry isn't too happy that crime fighting was so much easier with the bully than with a giant monster. Bubbles tries to calm him down by saying that he still makes great pies. Oh yeah, there's a running "joke" where Bubbles is eating pies that have been dropped on the ground from the first scene. The joke is that Bubbles is so silly, eating those rotten pies.

Blossom also tries to comfort Barry by saying what they really meant. They really didn't mean that he could be a superhero like they are. However, that hurts his feelings, which tugs at one of the Powerpuff Girls' hearts too much. Specifically...

...Buttercup's? So now Blossom’s the one that doesn’t want him to be a superhero, and Buttercup's the one that wants him to be one? This total change of character comes out of nowhere, especially since Buttercup's usually the one to put people down. Well, I guess there's one reason, and I'll get to that later.

While the Powerpuff Girls can't exactly transfer their powers by letting him eat a strand of their hair, hey, you can't prove that can't happen, Buttercup has one idea.

She puts a bucket on his head, covering his eyes. She then puts him right in front of a garbage can. See, there’s a reason why this villain had to be a garbage can: so Barry can punch a regular-sized non-dancing garbage can and believe he’s actually punching the giant one. How convenient! They then go and defeat the monster off-screen. I would assume this giant garbage can was too powerful for them to not use the "off-camera power boost".

The monster defeated, SuperBarry raises his hands in victory. I guess nobody in Townsville was watching anything but the aftermath, as they all believe this guy who was punching this garbage can defeated the terrible Can Can Man. He’s renamed Bucketboy by the citizens of Townsville, and he just rolls with it. It's heavily implied he can't get that bucket off with his fists of fury, but that doesn't stop him from continuing his pretend crimefighting.

We then see various scenes featuring our new favorite superhero fighting crime with his Bart Simpson-inspired fighting style, while the Powerpuff Girls help him out every way they can. It comes with a song that pretty much spells out the inner psyche we see later, about how he fights crime by himself. Sure, anyone could possibly see that the Powerpuff Girls are doing all the work, but as later episodes would prove, and even original episodes have proven, the people of Townsville are not too bright.

As an aside, is there even any reason why Barry has to be the superhero? They never really tie in the conspiracy theory or the baker aspect of his character to this hero, so this kid could have been any of the muggles. It could have been Jennifray, or Maylyn, or Jared Sh...okay, Barry was the perfect choice.

Speaking of perfect choice, Barry is busy signing autographs. I will admit, there is a joke that's actually funny here. A small one, but one that made me chuckle nonetheless. Not making anyone chuckle is seeing the Powerpuff Girls tired from all of that helping. One of them seems to have a slightly different outlook on this.

Yeah, I think they're trying to make ButterBarry a thing. Yes, because they had so much chemistry before! I guess they just decided that since they happened to share the same voice actress, they might as well make them love each other for this one time and, as far as I can tell, only time.

At least this subplot never becomes "Blossom sure loves that Jared" blatant or creepy, and that shouldn't even be an accomplishment. I mean, it's pretty much just because Barry never does anything on the level of "trying to kiss Bubbles on the lips as a final joke". Yes, that happened.

Speaking of Bubbles, while she's also too tired, she has another reason to spill the beans to Barry: he hasn't been making those pies, and she's still eating that one pie from weeks ago. Despite making her want to vomit, she still says it's good. Oh, that Bubbles! But wait, if those pies were so good, how come she ate it so slowly? I can't believe there's a flaw in that running joke!

They go up and confront Bucketboy, and tell them the truth. While it looks like he's just about to realize the error of his ways, they decide to completely meet our expectations, because he's now the jerk of the episode. He just thinks they're jealous of how high and mighty he is. To prove his super-heroism, he's going to do the one thing the Powerpuff Girls could never do!

We jump to Discount Jojo's lair, as he built this "build-your-own-robot" that can destroy Townsville. All he needs is a disposable brain. Okay, Discount Jojo, give in yours. You’re the one who needed that cork fork. Thankfully for him, an equally disposable brain shows up at Jojo's doorstep, as Bucketboy decided the one thing the Powerpuff Girls never did was send Discount Jojo to his doom. I'm guessing it's the most TV-Y7 way of saying he's going to kill him.

Thankfully, he never really goes anywhere with that plan, and Jojo decides this brain will do! Wait, is he going to actually cut his head open? Wow, that's actually kind of dark! Sure, Barry did have a lot of potential, but it's clear that they weren't going to do anything with it.

Nah, he’s just going to stick that body into the head part of the robot. Thankfully, it happens to be a bot that can use Bucketboy's unique fighting style. Wow, what a coincidence! I think what they tried to go with was that Barry was full of rage because his friends didn't believe he could be a superhero, but that never really comes through. For all we know, he's just brainwashed in there.

Why would Jojo even need that disposable brain aside from plot convenience? Funnily enough, there's an answer to that! As this bot is controlled by another person's brain, he can now spend his free time doing what he loves best: online shopping! We never quite figure out what he's shopping for, but the way he says "online shopping" suggests something feminine.

Speaking of feminine, the Powerpuff Girls show up to stop this menace, only to see that Barry is inside the robot! At least there's more of a point to the Monster Punch, Girls Down, as they don't want to fight this robot.The big hang-up is that Buttercup really doesn't want to hurt Barry, and neither do the other two! I mean, Barry is their friend, supposedly! It seems that the only solution is to convince Barry to not destroy the city and realize what he's really good at, possibly with an emotional plea.

Or, they can just tear off both of the robot's arms, and just grab Barry out of there. Potential difficulty averted! Of course, Buttercup is teary eyed after saving that hunk of a man.

Buttercup: Keep it together, Buttercup!

Oh, we get it already! The robot lands on Discount Jojo, but don't worry, Jojo says "I'm okay". The robot then explodes. I guess there's some comedic timing there.

Back at the Powerpuff Girls' home, Barry reveals that this whole ordeal made him realize that he could be a superhero just by baking pies. Everything turned out okay. Even Bubbles gets her happy ending by getting that fresh pie she desperately wanted. However, she felt that something was missing.

It needed some dirt. Well, at least the Bubbles rotten pie gag has a payoff. I'm sure everyone is pleased to hear that.

Does the title fit?

It's another “name of the character” episode title, though that additional exclamation point helps a little.

How does it stack up?

This episode could have went in directions that would have made it really annoying, or we could have had a good Don Quixote type of story with a fleshed out character to love and/or hate. They decided to do neither option and played it extremely safe. This is sort of a problem in itself, because this episode ended up being boring.

This episode has a similar problem to Brain Freeze, in that it is mainly one joke over and over again, and it's not funny. It's a little better, but not better enough to avoid the same rating.

Next, a brand new villain!

← Lights Out! ☆ The Fog →

#fpb ppg 2016 #fpb reviews #powerpuff girls #ppg 2016 #cartoon network

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