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#but there are a few bits i rather like in it!
ssahotchnerr · 2 days
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a bit late but i have a request for protective aaron 😓😓 reader and hotch having a date night and they run into someone who claims to be from the fbi like that one guy who prentiss garcia and jj came across?? maybe they play along for while? i love ur writing btw 💕💕 and congrats on 5k!!
brad's back
let's pretend this hasn't been in my drafts for ages, and what if it is the same guy they came across 🤭 cw; jealous!aaron, bau fem!reader, bar setting, light drinking mentions, suggestiveness, brad LOL wc; 1.2k
Saturday night. Date night.
Aaron and yourself had already finished dinner, and had stopped at a nearby bar for a drink or two before heading home. Jack was at Jessica's for the night, having fun of his own at a sleepover with his cousins.
That meant a wonderfully empty apartment was waiting for you, and all of its advantages.
You were giddy with impatience, eager to head out. As you waited for Aaron to return - he had run to the men's room - out of your peripheral you sensed someone lingering, just a few feet away from where you were sat.
You turned your head, subtly brushing your fingers through your hair so your glance didn't seem purposeful. It was a man in a suit, hair swept cleanly, looking greatly out of place in the casualness of the bar.
But your discreet attempt at observing did go noticed; the man took it as a plausible excuse to approach you.
"You should be careful."
Your eyebrows quirked quizzically, evaluating whether or not his statement was a threat or hopeful flirting. "How so?"
"Saturday night. It's getting late. We're in a high crime area."
You widened your eyes in feigned surprise, "Are we?"
No, you were not.
You quickly deemed him harmless, for now. And while you waited, why not play into it; he obviously had some story going, without a doubt a highly entertaining one at that. Not only, with Aaron due back in a few short minutes, you wouldn't mind seeing his protective side in the slightest.
"But lucky for you, I'm around. I just so happen to be a part of the FBI."
"Really." Your chin pointed downwards, not wasting a second to rack through your brain. He didn't look familiar, and you were quite good at remembering faces. You definitely hadn't come across this man before in practice.
When nothing unveiled, "I didn't catch your name."
"Brad."
Holy shit. You've heard the infamous Brad story from the girls, numerous times, and this had to be him. It had to; he was just as they described: vain, a bit gawky. You quickly stifled the laugh that wanted to burst through your chest. It's been months since, and evidently he was still using the same pickup.
"Brad the FBI agent." You nodded slowly, toying with your drink, fingers on the rim. "That's quite the title. What department are you in?"
"That's classified," he answered, leaning against the counter on an elbow. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."
"I see..."
Your eyes shot to the side as Aaron approached, landing on him just in time to see him stop in his tracks. As expected, a scowl deepened on his face as he saw Brad talking to you, also taking notice of his close, flirtatious proximity. His feet began moving once again, more urgency in his step.
"You must know Aaron then." You gushed, grabbing onto Aaron's arm and drawing him close as soon as he was in reach, and before he could ruthlessly interrogate Brad. Aaron lightly stumbled in surprise at the sudden pull.
Brad blanched, "I, urm-"
"Aaron," you grinned, "this is Brad."
Aaron shot you a look, one that read: 'And why the hell would I care?' but as he gave you said look, he immediately eyed the mischievous, fiery glint in your eyes. You were up to something.
The tension lessened in Aaron (barely), offering a rather stiff, "Hello."
"Brad," you turned, your hand clutching onto Aaron's bicep, your thumb grazing it calmly. "Aaron's in the FBI too."
Aaron's shoulders relaxed, probably coming to the same realization; he's heard the story also, as Penelope all but sprinted into the bullpen to share the hilarious encounter.
"No, I don't believe we have met." He activated his Hotch Stare, "What department are you-"
"Oh, he can't say. Classified." You interrupted, lips developing into a pout. "Strange, isn't it?"
While Aaron's notorious expression was enough to make Brad squirm, he also put an arm around you, keeping you close. Very close, your shoulder was practically digging into his chest.
Brad forced a laugh, his voice painfully strained. "Actually, it's uh... the big one. In DC."
"The big one." Aaron deadpanned, his brows furrowing more into a hardened line above his eyes. "You mean the J. Edgar Hoover Building?"
"Yes sir, that one." He rushed out, his gaze darting to the side. Probably looking for a quick escape.
"And your speciality?"
A dreadfully, humorously weak answer, "Crime."
"Crime." Aaron repeated, with an undertone of idiot.
"Modern day hero, clearly." You inputted. Aaron's lips twitched, holding back a smile.
"Your Superior is?"
"Superior... you see, I really can't stay. My boss wouldn't be too happy with me giving out the details."
"And you are aware that impersonation can be charged as a criminal offense," Aaron laid it on thick, his tone nothing less than strictly authoritative. "Aren't you?"
Brad opened his mouth to respond. Much to his avail, only silence came out.
"If I were you, I would try to find a better use of your time than using a forged title to pick up women. Perhaps being yourself may work? Although, I believe that needs extensive work as well."
Humiliation glassed over Brad's eyes, a blush rising to his cheeks. He turned on his heel, retreating.
"One more thing."
Your heart skipped a beat. From Aaron's tone of voice, the protectiveness you had anticipated - deep emphasis was about to come to the surface.
"I'm not the only one in the FBI." He spoke with pride in his chest, cocking his head towards you. Aaron's lips also quipped into a smile, whereas a smug look was on your face. "She's more than capable to take care of herself. And if for some reason she couldn't, that's where I come in."
Brad merely stood there, helplessly. From the irritation present on his face, he was completely over it.
"Have a good night."
"That was something, wasn't it?" You stated humorously once Brad was out of earshot.
Aaron snorted a laugh into his drink. "I'll say."
"I wonder how often it's worked." You thought aloud, feeling for those who had unknowingly fallen for it.
"Not enough if he's still using it as a ruse."
"It's kinda sad." While it was well deserved, long overdue and hopefully ceased any future endeavors of his, you still couldn't help but feel bad. Partially bad.
"It is, but he doesn't deserve your pity sweetheart." Aaron's hand fell atop yours, giving your knuckles a gentle pat. "Ready to head out?"
You nodded yes, "I've been ready."
After tossing some bills on the counter, Aaron properly grabbed your hand this time. The two of you headed for the exit, Aaron's hold on your hand tightening - to not lose you amidst the crowd, or for anyone else to make a pass at you.
"Is this the part where I say I can show you what a real FBI agent can do?" Aaron teased, a delightful little smirk on his face as he opened the door.
You laughed. "Whatever makes you happy. And benefits me."
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amyispxnk · 3 days
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Grease and sweat
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Summary - Another day, another venture out of the walls of the Boston QZ with Joel Miller. AKA, another day spent fantasizing about the burly man whom you spend most of your time with these days. When the two of you have to hole up for the night, things get a little heated, and you finally snap.
A/N: i started this oneshot like 6 months ago and finally found some random motivation today to finish it. and im not gonna spoil anything but like.. why has noone talked about this in a fic before? im literally salivating when he does this during the game and like.. yeah. idk. you’ll see.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: SMUT!! (oral f!receiving, unprotected PiV sex - don’t do this, especially during an apocalypse!, mentions of masturbation, lewd thoughts), language, age gap (roughly 15 years), firearms, pet names, fluff, aftercare
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“The fuck’re you lookin’ at, kid?” Joel practically spat, having noticed the way you were eyeing him whilst he worked.
You scoffed, walking up to the workbench he was currently using. Kid. You weren’t a kid. Sure, you were almost 15 years younger than him, but you certainly weren’t a kid.
“I’m 34, Joel. Not a kid.” You argued, leaning on the wall and watching him work.
He just grunted in response before resuming what he was doing before, starting with cleaning his pistol.
His fingers danced along the metal, digging into certain bits with the old rag he used to get any grime out, before he used the screwdriver to make a few adjustments to the handgun.
You never really understood how to do all the fancy things he did with his weapons, and you probably should considering how intently you watched him whenever the pair of you came across one of these old benches - but you couldn’t focus on the guns which were in his hands. His big, strong, rough hands. You’d trade places with those guns just to feel his hands on you like that. He took so much care of the damn things too, like they were the most precious things in his life. Always cleaning and repairing them like this, practically never letting you touch them.. What did those guns have that you didn’t? You thought to yourself as you watched him, gaze drifting to his fingers in particular. The ones you’d dreamt about far too many times, the ones you’d imagined inside of yourself rather than your own when you touched yourself. It was the way they moved, how thick they were, and how the veins in his hands and muscles flexed when he gripped his bow, and the way his arms would shine with his sweat as he worked. You’d lick the sweat off his body if he asked you to. Depraved as it sounds.
Not that you’d ever admit it.
Your absolutely maddening desire for and sickening crush on the man whom you knew close to nothing about. Just his name and a few things he revealed to you when the night was particularly long or the whisky he was having took a toll on his judgement, loosening him up for once. You knew where he was from, what his job was before, and you knew that he was basically just a grumpy old asshole who was only good for beating up guys when you went on supply runs.
He had never been overly kind to you, not that you needed it, had never asked you any questions, didn’t make small talk, and was a ruthless murderer.
You loved every single thing about him.
And you wanted to show him. You wanted him to love you back, no matter how he’d love you. You wouldn’t mind if he was a cold lover, a mean one - hell, he almost definitely was - you’d take him any way you could get him.
You looked back at his hands once more, subconsciously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when he had to use his ring and middle fingers to clean out part of another gun, your thighs clenching together as you felt the all-too-familiar wetness start to form between them and making you groan when you realised you’d probably have to rub one out when you got back later. It was honestly annoying the amount of times you came by your own hand, his name on your lips, because you knew how much better it would feel if it was his thick fingers pushing into you, his big hands palming your breasts, his strong arms holding you down as he made you come over and over…
“Let’s get goin’.” He says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he tucks his gun away and slings his backpack on.
You push yourself off of the wall and follow him quickly, trying not to look flustered although you very much felt it.
He came to an abrupt stop when you reached your normal exit from this little pitstop en route to the guys who gave you weapons, and you almost walked face-first into his back.
“Joel? Wha-” you began, but he cut you off.
“This shouldn’t be closed.” He murmurs, like he’s talking to himself, not allowing you any time to respond before he’s going over to pull the chain which should open the garage door.
It doesn’t.
No matter how much he pulls on the metal, grunting and groaning and making your eyes flutter shut whilst you force your needy whimpers down with the noises he’s making, it barely opens, slamming shut every time he gets close to getting it open a quarter of the way.
“Fuck.” He grits, giving up and slamming his hand against the thing. It would be no use trying with that door anymore, the noise it was making was getting too loud anyway.
He stands there, clearly thinking hard about what to do. You can’t turn back because that would just lead you straight back to the QZ, which was useless to you right now, but you don’t have any other secured ways to get to your vendors - how could he have been so stupid to not plan ahead, he ridicules himself silently.
“Joel? What’s the plan?” You ask, getting slightly impatient with his constant silence. He may have been this hot brooding older man, but he could really leave you in the dark sometimes like this.
“Will you let me think, goddamnit?” He responds, clearly annoyed with your current predicament, scratching at his jaw before looking back up at you.
“Could try that window.” You suggest quietly, looking upwards. It was high and small, but you’d be able to get through it if he gave you a boost up.
He gave you a small nod before you both made your way up there and he got into position, hands outstretched and placed together as you got on and pushed yourself up. Normally, whenever he did this, you’d feel all dizzy afterwards from the proximity and his touch - but as soon as you looked out the window you were horrified. There were infected, just past the jammed door - and a whole lot of them. You weren’t getting past that. Forget the deal, you’d come back another day.
“Joel.” You say, not even realising you were whispering. He doesn’t answer.
“Joel! Joel, get me down.” You whisper-shout, and he furrows his brows.
“Why? What’s the matter?” He asks, and you have to fight against the urge to roll your eyes.
“Just get me down.” You say through clenched teeth, taking another look outside the window before he carefully lowers you. Of course, he boosts you up regularly, but he rarely ever tries to get you back down, so you stumble a bit and end up with your face against his chest as he falls back onto the wall slightly.
“Jesus, woman!” He grunts, but you don’t even try to move, you just look up at him with those fucking doe eyes of yours and it takes everything in him to not groan at the sight of you. God knows how many times he’s imagined you looking up at him whilst you sucked his cock, knelt on the floor with tears in your eyes and your hair all messy for him with your big eyes staring into his.
You open your mouth to speak, before realising the position you’re in and quickly standing up.
“I- there were infected outside, Joel.” You explain after a moment.
“So?” He questions you, squinting in confusion slightly. You’ve taken down infected before, no problem. What’s the issue today?
“No, like- I swear it looked like there were a hundred of them. Just this big fucking horde, right outside the garage door.” You gestured back towards the exit.
He clenched his jaw. Yeah, okay, you could take down some infected, not a hundred.
“Y’sure?”
“I’m fucking sure, Joel!” You almost yelled, way too many emotions going on in your body for you to act normal right now.
“Alright, alright, calm down.” He looked back outside. It was almost dark, there was no way you could get back to Boston in time now. It just wasn’t safe to go that far so late, and there was no point since you’d have to sneak by all the guards - who hopefully wouldn’t notice if you were gone for one night - to get back in.
“Go check all the doors, lock ‘em and then barricade ‘em. We’re gonna have to hold up here for tonight, then go back at dawn.” He decides, and you gape at him like a fish.
“We’re staying here?! Joel, what about curfew and the- the fucking infected right outside-” you start, but he silences you once again.
“We’re gonna be fine. When have things ever gone wrong for us since you started comin’ out with me?” He questions sternly, and you ponder it.
Never, really. He always saved you, and you’d save him when he needed it - even though it was only a handful of times he did.
“‘Kay, fine. Whatever.” You mumble stubbornly before turning round to go secure the doors leading to the small mechanic store you’d be staying in.
He looks around himself for any openings and closes them up before you both end up back in the main room.
It’s mostly silent as you look around at different things, poking at the ruined cars and whatnot whilst he sits on a crate and watches you as discreetly as possible.
“I have a question.” You say, turning to face him and making him snap his head away from you before you notice he was looking at you already.
He grunts to tell you to continue speaking, looking back at you when you do.
“Could you like.. show me how to fix up my guns and stuff? ‘Cause you always do it for me and I just thought it was.. Cool.” you murmur, trailing off at the end.
He actually lets out a small laugh at that. Not in a mean way, necessarily, just kind of teasingly.
“Cool?” He repeats with raised eyebrows.
“Yeah, cool. It just- with all the attachments and shit. And I can never clean them properly.” You sigh, walking up closer to him. “Please? We’ve got nothing else to do.”
The sound of you saying please for him in that small voice wins him over. “Fine.” He gets up off the crate, walking back over to the workbench and flicking the light on before taking your gun from you. He talks you through it, shows you a little how to clean it before letting you try it yourself, and then he shows you how to add a scope to it. You can’t quite grasp it though, not being strong and precise enough to attach it properly, so he places his hands on top of yours and helps you screw it on.
The contact makes you shudder so violently that he definitely felt it, and you want to crumple into the ground.
“What was that for?” He murmurs, and you almost jump at how close he is now, voice loud and breath hot on the side of your face as he leans over your shoulder to look at the gun whilst he tries to help you.
“No-nothing.” You squeak, breathing at least ten times faster now.
He feels it. He knows. He has to know, you’d been so stupid and revealed it all now. Joel Miller was not an idiot and he knew how you felt and he’d hate you for it. Your thoughts spiralled.
“Nothin’, huh?” He taunts, a smirk pulling at his lips as he watches you slowly crumble. To make it worse, he turns you in his hold, so you’re pinned with your back to the desk and his hands on either side of you.
“Y’alright, darlin’? You look awfully hot. Don’t got a fever or nothin’?” He mumbles, seeing how far he can push you as he leans in closer.
“I-I’m fine.” You say quietly, mesmerised by the sight of his face so close as you notice little details you’d never noticed before, barely even realising his lips are so close to your own until he’s pressing them to yours.
You make a slight noise of surprise before you get lost in it. The feeling of his lips against yours was something you’d dreamed about for so long, and now it was finally happening.
Your hands come up and around his neck, pulling him closer towards you as he deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and overpowering you immediately as he pushes you back onto the workbench, sitting you on top of it and already working open the buttons of your jeans.
He kisses you one more time before getting to his knees and pulling your pants completely off, eyeing your panties, a dark patch in the middle of them from your growing arousal.
“Joel, please.” You whimper from above him as his hands run up your legs, coming to your inner thighs before toying with the elastic of your panties.
“Y’need me here, darlin’?” He asks, smirking up at you as his fingers move to rub slow circles into your clit through the fabric.
“Fuck!” You gasp at the contact, needy and desperate for him by this point. “Yes, please- please Joel.” You’re reduced to begging already, something you figure only he had the power to make you do.
He shushes you gently, fingers slowly peeling your panties down and groaning at the sight of your bare cunt, dripping and pulsing with need.
“Fuck, baby. Such a pretty pussy, so fuckin’ wet. This all for me?” He hums, dragging a finger up and down your slit, gathering your wetness on it and sucking it into his mouth as he looks up at you.
You whine at the sight of him between your legs like this, not knowing how you’re going to survive when he actually makes contact with you, and nod furiously.
“Yes, oh my god. Yes, it’s all for you Joel.” You say quickly, and he seems satisfied with that answer, finally moving his face to your core and making you squirm as his hot breath fans over your pussy.
“Stop fuckin’ movin’.” He murmurs, seemingly enraptured by the sight of you, staring for a few seconds and making you want to shift away again under his intense gaze, but he has an arm on you to make sure you don’t move.
And then he finally, finally, licks a long stripe up your pussy, tongue running along your wet folds. And you fucking lose it.
“Oh my god, Joel, please. Fuck- fuck, please, more-” you start begging, moaning loudly as he picks up the pace and continues to devour you, drinking down your wetness, and eventually kissing and sucking at your clit. His fingers, those thick gorgeous fingers you’d dreamed of for so long, tease your entrance before he’s pushing those inside, making you wail at the feeling of something inside of you, getting you closer to that release you were aching for by this point.
“Fuck, yes!” You cry out, thighs shaking slightly as you feel yourself getting close.
“That’s right, baby. You like that?” He asks, voice an octave lower as he pumps his fingers in and out of your tight heat, tongue still working you over relentlessly.
“Please- it feels so good-” you whine in response, fingers grasping for something to hold onto, to tether yourself to earth with as you feel yourself start to float away. Finding his hair and tugging slightly which makes him groan.
“Good girl.” He praises, adding another finger. He curls his fingers, searching for your g-spot and finding it easily.
You moan weakly at the praise, hips bucking as you grind yourself against his mouth, the ridge of his nose stimulating your clit perfectly as your fingers pull at his hair, and before you know it, you’re coming with a hoarse scream of his name.
You see white as your thighs quiver around his head, tensing and squeezing slightly as he continues to work you through it, lapping at your juices until you cry out from the overstimulation.
He removes his fingers from your hole, licking them clean once more before standing up and removing his own clothes, revealing his hard cock and making your eyes widen slightly.
Of course he was big, you’d stared at the bulge of his jeans enough times to realise that, and you’d imagined it before, but it all paled in comparison to finally seeing it.
He was long, slightly curved, girthy with a flushed red tip which had precome leaking out of it as he pumped himself slowly with a smirk on his face.
“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” He hums teasingly, and you can’t even think straight anymore, just pulling him forward and kissing him hungrily as he positioned his cock at your slick entrance.
Needy little whines and whimpers flowed freely from your mouth straight into his, where he swallowed them whole before starting to push into you.
You part from the kiss suddenly, gasping as he pushes deeper and deeper, stretching you thoroughly, and you feel grateful that he has the decency to start off slow since you already feel like crying from how big he is, how fucking good it feels.
When he bottoms out, you’re already wrecked. He’s huge inside of you, and you can feel everything. Every single ridge, vein, and twitch of his pulsing cock as your walls hug him tightly.
“Y’okay?” He murmurs softly, making your heart swell at how tender he sounds right now, and you nod in response.
“Joel.. please move.” You whisper, and he complies, grabbing your hips and barely giving you a moment to think before he’s starting to pound into you, making you squeal as your arms came around his neck, nails digging into his back before his head ducks down into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at your pulse point and making you clench harder around him, before moving down to your breasts, palming them and taking one of your nipples into his mouth as you scream his name.
“Joel! I’m gonna- gonna come- oh god, please!” You cry out, back arching. He growls, picking up the pace. He could feel his orgasm building, but he needed you to come first, needed to feel your tight walls clenching and gushing around him before he even considered his own pleasure.
“Come on, baby. Give me one more and I’ll fill you up. Fuck this little cunt full of me.. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He says, voice low and husky as his balls slap against your ass, the loud sound of your wetness filling the room as you start to tremble once more.
“Yes! Fuck, Joel. Need it so bad. Want your come inside of me. Please, Joel.” You gasp, making him groan as his fingers move down to rub at your clit.
“Come for me, baby.” He encourages, speeding up even more and hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, making you scream as you come and dissolve into a shaking, whimpering mess whilst he continues to thrust into you.
“That’s it, darlin’. Come all over my cock.” He grunts, his own release approaching quickly. The sounds of your moans and cries are enough to set him off, barely thrusting a few more times before stilling and filling you with his hot seed, slowly fucking it even deeper inside of you before pulling out and looking at you.
Skin flushed, panting heavily, come leaking down your thighs. You looked perfect. He wished that cameras were still around so he could take a picture of how you looked right now, keep it in his pocket wherever he went. But he couldn’t, and he realised you probably needed cleaning up now as your hazy eyes blinked open and looked at him. You were quiet, thinking about what this meant for the two of you now. Would he go back to being the cold man you knew? Would he be even colder? Would he suddenly be attentive and caring towards you?
You supposed you got your answer when he gently cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as he looked at you with something scarily close to love in his eyes, the gaze he’d somehow managed to conceal from you all these months which he could now finally show you.
“You okay?” He murmurs, and you nod weakly in response. He hums, giving you another small kiss before walking off to go get a rag to clean you up with.
“Hold on, let me just..” he mumbles to himself as he goes to try clean off any dust from the rag, before returning to between your thighs and cleaning away any evidence of your previous activities, tossing the rag somewhere and handing you your clothes. You get dressed quietly before he takes your hand and leads you over to a space on the floor where you set up your sleeping bags, putting them as close together as possible until he eventually just lets you tuck yourself into his, wrapping his strong arms around you from behind and falling asleep.
You listen to his soft snores, feel his calloused hands on your stomach where they snaked under your shirt before he fell asleep, and smile to yourself softly before falling asleep with him.
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Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and my requests are open 💞
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loggiepj · 1 day
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illicit affairs
Summary: What happens if you fall in love with a married woman? Nothing good, of course.
"If you ever dare tell him or anyone about us, I swear to God I will tell everyone how good of a liar you are."
 
YOU DIDN'T intend to fall in love with a married person.
It was the last thing on your mind. You'd never put yourself in such a dangerous position — destroying what happy couples had. If only the old you could see you right now, she would have thrown you off a cliff in an instant.
She was the wife of your Classic Literature professor — Wanda.
She had the most mesmerizing greenest eyes you had ever seen, the kind you want to just spend hours or even days just staring into. Long brown hair that would cascade down to her shoulders and back, the kind that falls into place like dominoes as she'd run her fingers through her hair, as if she never needed a comb in her life.
You and Wanda first met when Vision, your professor and her loving husband, asked you to drop the book reviews he instructed the class to do for the day.
It was just a simple meeting. No out of the ordinary. There were few exchanges of smiles between you and Wanda as you handed the papers to Vision. Then you left.
The second meeting was somewhat rather different. You knew you should focus at what Vision was saying at that moment but your eyes could only betray you as they darted towards the revealing creamy legs of the woman sitting in front of Vision's desk.
You didn't mean to ogle. But you swore Wanda raise her skirt rather intentionally to reveal more when she noticed you looking.
The third meeting was the awaited moment, the actual beginning of the book where the protagonist meets the love of her life.
Vision was nowhere to be found. And in his desk, sitting on his chair was his wife.
"Vision left for a meeting," Wanda said as she stood, making her way towards you.
"Good afternoon, Miss Stark."
"Oh, please, call me Wanda."
Wanda approached you, her perfume lingering in your nose as she took the papers from your hands.
"Y/n, right?"
You nodded back.
There was an awkward silence as you both just stood there silently, a weird tension you couldn't comprehend. Or maybe you were only imagining things.
Like a curious child, you didn't know what to do. Wanda seemed like she was having fun on the other hand as she watched you struggle. Her eyes finally took mercy as she began peering through the papers.
"Mmmm, Anna Karenina. What do you think of it?"
Your brows furrowed deeper. "About the book?"
Wanda only nodded as she stepped closer, making you swallow a nervous gulp.
"Well, I think it's one of the greatest works of literature ever written."
She stopped. "And do you think it's appropriate? What she did with Vronsky appropriate?"
"No . . . She's married and—"
"Even when it was an arranged marriage to a man beyond her years whom she didn't love?" Wanda interrupted.
"Even so, I don't think it's still right. Although I couldn't blame Anna if I were in her shoes and I lived in the 1800s, the heart doesn't follow the laws in marriage. And the law doesn't apply to love."
There was a small pause. Wanda's eyes met yours and you had never seen it in the deepest and darkest shades of green before.
"You're an interesting student, Y/n, you know that right?"
"Interesting how, ma'am?"
A smirk only grew on her face. But before she could reply, Vision suddenly entered the room.
"Oh, Y/n, I'm sorry, I got caught up in an unexpected meeting." He took the papers from his wife as he left a kiss on her cheek. You said it was okay as you bid goodbye to both, to Wanda rather hesitantly.
 
"VISION'S looking for a nanny," Kate suddenly announced when she arrived at the table. You and your friends were in the cafeteria for lunch. "He's basically  convincing his students to apply, handing out flyers. Don't you think it's a bit unprofessional?"
You didn't think it was unprofessional. You thought it was an opportunity, a blessing in disguise. But of course, you didn't tell your friends that.
 
SO, THERE you were sitting in Stark's two-storey house playing video games with their twins on the living room carpet. You couldn't complain choosing this work over some part time job you had at a local comic book store, considering Vision was paying you more.
You thought it was a consensus agreement between the two of them though but when you met Wanda's widened eyes later that night upon seeing you with her kids, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing, you had thought wrong.
Wanda and Vision had a fight that night too, about why Vision hired one of his students for the job. It wasn't your business, but you'd probably be fired from the job after that night.
When you had already tucked the boys in their bed, the house had now gone completely silent. You quietly prepared yourself to get home. Hurriedly leaving the house you shouldn't have come in the first place, you accidentally bumped into Wanda in the hallway.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking—"
"No, I should be the one who's sorry. Forgive me, Y/n. You shouldn't have heard all the things you probably heard earlier. I was just not expecting him to actually do it."
"It's okay, ma'am. I don't really mind. And I needed the money anyway." Technically, it wasn't a lie.
There was a short moment of silence before you smiled and bid goodbye. Wanda stopped you the very second you stepped out the door.
"What time will you be here tomorrow?" she asked.
You swallowed as she walked closer. "I. . . I don't remember Professor mention to babysit tomorrow."
"Well, I will be out for business the whole day tomorrow and the twins need picking up from the school. But if you're busy, I can just ask—"
"—No, it's completely fine, I can do it—"
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose," she said as she suddenly arranged the collar of your shirt. The feather like touch of her fingertips against your skin made you almost internally combust. "I don't want you missing out on your studies."
Your cheeks must have gone red the entire time as you eagerly shook your head.
"It's surely not a problem, Miss Stark."
"If you say so. I'll see you tomorrow then. And please . . . call me Wanda."
Little did you know you'd start calling her other endearing names two weeks later.
 
YOU STARTED becoming close to Wanda the following days when you're babysitting their twins. With interesting conversations at night whenever she and her husband got home, it was a miracle how you'd never seem to run out of topics. And in the University as well, what with her regular presence in Vision's office, it would appear as though you and Wanda couldn't handle to spend some time apart from each other.
Your friends had teased you about taking the babysitter job, of course. But they were more concerned about Vision, truly unaware that your intentions were elsewhere, that a certain brunette has plagued your mind for days, that you were so head over heels over your professor's wife.
No, they had no idea about the nights you two had spent together talking, or the prolonged touches that ignited the wick of most carnal desires in your head, or the way she slurred your name behind you as she taught you how to bake the cookies the twins liked. Of how you could almost taste her. No, they certainly had no idea.
But of course, falling in love with a married woman wasn't an easy task.
You weren't supposed to be entering Vision's office without knocking. But being used to be always welcomed in there, you didn't expect Vision to be preoccupied with his wife.
There they were kissing passionately, Wanda on top of his desk while Vision in front of her. Your sight immediately darkened. You hurriedly apologized and left the room.
Vision talked to you the next day about what happened, and how sorry he was for not being professional. He was talking about trying to resolve the cruel woes of a married life but you had already stopped listening when she mentioned Wanda started what happened yesterday.
You asked to take absence from the babysitting job for a while, saying that you needed to focus on the upcoming midterms. Vision said he understood, never questioning how it was more important than the exams.
Fortunately, you didn't have to go to Vision's office anymore. Ever since the incident, Vision never instructed you to.
That was why you had more free time on a Saturday night, making you agree to your friend's invite to another college party. Plus, you needed to move on from something that wasn't even there in the first place.
You met some girl that night too. But you were too drunk to remember the name. She was kissing you against the wall in the dark alley, or even more as you heard your belt being unbuckled.
"Stop," you muttered with a weak voice.
But the girl didn't seem to hear you. She might have taken it as a moan as she hastily fastened the way she was devouring you that moment.
You pulled away from her face as you tried to say it louder. "I can't do this here—"
And then there was a blur before you as the girl was suddenly shoved away. You didn't get to see what happened next because darkness had already enveloped your surroundings.
 
YOU WOKE up in a nearby motel wearing clothes you knew weren't yours. You were starting to hyperventilate, millions of thoughts running through your head, scolding your past self that this was what's going to happen when you get drunk.
It only stopped when Wanda entered the room.
"Miss Stark?"
"What the hell do you think you're doing making out with strangers in dark alleyways?"
You hadn't seen her mad before. Of course, you had heard her yelling during her arguments with Vision, but never towards you.
"You could have been—... you could have been—"
Suddenly, memories from last night quickly swarmed back into your head. How someone was about to take you out in public.
"I'm so sorry," you said back so softly, holding back tears. "I . . . I didn't mean to get too much drunk."
Wanda let out a sigh, calming herself down, as she carefully approached you then sat on the corner of the bed.
When you started crying, you felt her hand slithered around yours, squeezing you with assurance and safety you didn't know you needed.
"Hey, it's okay now," she said. "You're alright now. And that's what matters."
Then Wanda leaned forward, engulfing you into a hug as you cried into her chest. She rubbed circles soothingly on your back, murmuring sweet nothings as if she was more than just your professor's wife.
"You're safe now. I'm here. I'll always be here."
You didn't know what she meant by that, but through the days that followed, you finally understood.
You started to return as the twins' babysitter a week after the incident. Wanda insisted she'd been having a hard time finding someone to replace you. So you finally relented and caved in.
And one night, one lonely sensual night, it all made sense.
Wanda just got home from work. Vision was away for a professors retreat and wouldn't be back until the following day.
"In a hurry to get rid of me?" Wanda chuckled as she poured herself a glass of white wine. You had just tucked the kids in their bed.
You apologized. "Sorry, my friends are just having this party and I . . . Well, they set me up to meet with someone there—"
You jumped when you heard glass breaking. Upon seeing the source, how red looked so much darker unto the white kitchen counter, your feet instinctively darted towards the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
When you got back into the kitchen carrying the bag, Wanda finally spoke. "It's fine, Y/n. It's just a scratch—"
"No way that's just a scratch." You pulled her hand regardless and started to tend to it like a professional. You had been trained to do this back in highschool as a volunteer. Good thing it wasn't an open wound. You gently rolled the gauze around her hand after you had finished dabbing some alcohol on the wound, unaware that Wanda has never let her eyes leave you.
"There. All done." You smiled then looked at Wanda, finally noticing the distance between the two of you was too inexistent. You swallowed a nervous lump, not realizing you were still holding her injured hand. You let go rather reluctantly and you swore you could see the disappointment on her face.
"Y/n," Wanda called softly.
"Yes?" Avoiding her gaze, you busied yourself cleaning the mess.
"I don't think I can do this anymore."
"What do you mean?"
And as you lifted your head to look at her, Wanda was already starting to lean forward. Suddenly, you couldn't breathe, rendering you immobile as the gap between the two of you was reduced to an inch.
"I'm about to do something stupid," Wanda said. "But please, don't push me away or tell me you don't want the same thing."
Then she kissed you. And of course, you didn't push her away. The kiss was just a soft one, so feather like that you thought maybe you were only dreaming it. And you didn't want it to end. But before you could respond to the kiss, Wanda had abruptly pulled away.
"I'm sorry," Wanda said as she turned her back at you to leave.
Suddenly you forgot why you were there, that Wanda was a married woman and that you shouldn't even be doing what you were going to do. You followed Wanda to tell her you felt the same, that you had wanted her all this time but she had already gone upstairs and locked herself in the bedroom.
 
YOU HADN'T heard from Wanda since. Vision said they had found another babysitter so you could just relax for the meantime before the upcoming exams. But relaxing was the last thing on your mind at the moment.
Determined to get another taste, you knocked into Wanda's door one night. And fortunately, she was the one who opened it.
"Why would you do that when you're gonna avoid me afterwards?" you asked. Demanded, to be exact.
Wanda was surprised at your behavior but she maintained her stance.
"Who's at the door, dear?" Vision's voice came through the hallway.
"No one, Vis. Just a prank," Wanda answered as she kept her eyes on you.
You couldn't believe what you just heard, but maybe it was all a prank, just some stupid thing that should have never happened. You opened your mouth to speak, to tell her that it didn't mean anything to you so it would hurt her too. But you hesitated. It was rather easy to pretend nothing happened that night rather than convince someone that you would reciprocate the advances presented to you.
When you heard nearing footsteps coming from the house, probably from Vision, you hurriedly left.
Little did you know what awaited you later that night when you come back into your dorm room. Putting on your pajamas as you get yourself ready for bed, you didn't expect someone to knock at a very late hour. You were determined to fight with whoever it was outside the door because you were still filled with rage caused by a certain brunette.
It was Wanda, looking worried and anxious.
"Forgive me" was all she said as she quickly barged through the door and pushed herself against you. The frustration you could have fired back immediately dissipated, as if the touch of her skin against yours was a drug that could cure any negative feelings, any hatred you had for the woman.
You did more than just kiss that night. You performed a sacred dance against your sheets, worshipping her, drinking her as if you had been suffering from drought for ages. It surprised you how eager and deprived Wanda was as she pushed your head between her exposed thighs, begging you to touch her. And you were very compliant.
It didn't stop from there.
The blazed nights continued through the days that followed, each day met with unsatiated hunger. It was either in your dorm room or in the guest bedroom of her house, the house she shared with Vision, the guy she's married to.
You weren't an idiot. You knew what you were. You were that exact person you had despised your entire life as you watched news and heard gossips about married life, never expecting how hard it really was now that you're wearing the shoes of the mistress.
"What is it? What's wrong?" Wanda asked one night as she noticed you stop responding back to her desperate kisses, her straddling on top of your hips as she craved for another round.
"What are we, Wanda?"
Wanda didn't answer for a moment. She took ahold of her ragged breathing, calmed herself down as she cupped your face to look up at her.
Pressing your foreheads together, she whispered as if she was scared anyone could hear her confession. "I don't know. I just know that I want to be here with you."
And that was good enough for you. For a while, anyway.
 
YOU AND Wanda spent more time than the usual nights of fulfilled desires. You had conversations about what your future would look like after murmuring tiny i love yous post bliss from your love making. Whenever you finished your classes, you'd immediately go to the Stark's house and spend time with Wanda in the kitchen as she prepared for dinner. If you two weren't that careful enough, either Tom or Billy would caught you stealing kisses in the kitchen counter. You became a regular to their household, unbeknownst to Vision, who thought you only needed the babysitting job more now that you're graduating.
Your friends started to worry about you when they finally found out about the affair. They thought it was overrated and wrong, falling in love with a married person. You were a believer of that too. And it made you hate yourself as you looked at yourself in the mirror, as you listened to Vision's classes and saw how enthusiastic he still was, not knowing you were worshipping her wife on your knees.
You weren't stupid. You had attempted to discuss it with Wanda, even one time you thought you had begged.
"End it with him please," you asked, as she rode the silicone toy between your legs. "Be with me. Be mine, Wanda, and only mine."
Wanda gasped as she eagerly nodded, looking at your eyes with hooded ones as her fingers dug through the back of your scalp and shoulder.
"Yes?"
"Yes, Y/n, I'm yours and only yours."
And you thought she really was and that she would finally end it. But maybe it was just the wonderful effects of orgasmic pleasure that made her think you two would be more than just an illicit affair.
 
THEN IT happened. The one thing that finally extinguished the guilt you had been carrying for months. The one thing you thought would finally save you and Wanda.
Vision had been kissing another professor from the university rather passionately when you entered his office one unexpected afternoon. He begged and begged for you not to tell her wife about it, pleading you he'd tell her eventually and that he just needed some time.
But that was not what you did.
The first thing you did when you saw Wanda was told her about what Vision did. Desperation and selfishness could do such a thing.
You thought she'd finally wake up and get some sense that staying in that marriage would only worsen the consequences. But you had thought wrong when you woke up in your bedroom and Wanda wasn't there beside you.
Through the days that followed, Wanda had never replied to any of your messages or calls. When you went to knock on their door, nobody would answer.
Is that it?
Is that how she ends things?
When you saw Vision in class the next day, it appeared as if nothing happened, as if he didn't just commit a sinful act like his wife did. Vision was still wearing his wedding ring as if nothing happened.
So it killed you to ask about Wanda.
"She's okay, Y/n," Vision said hurriedly, as if he wanted to get rid of you and the conversation. "What happened shouldn't have happened. And we've agreed to save our marriage for the sake of our kids. And sorry, but we no longer need a babysitter. I hope you understand we need privacy at the moment."
You thought whether Vision finally found out about you and Wanda's affair or maybe he was just angry at you for telling her about his own affair.
 
BUT YOU were too adamant to find out. So when it was their twins' birthday, where you remembered how Wanda wanted just a house celebration for their day, you bought a nice gift for the twins and went to their house without an invitation.
Luckily, the house was open to guests that you found yourself invisible as you went inside the house.
You could see Wanda from a distance, chatting with some guests as she drank a glass of white wine in her hand, the hand that still wore her wedding ring. You knew you should be mad but you missed the woman so much that you only wished to touch her and kiss her, to feel her against you.
When yours and Wanda's eyes met, time slowed down. As if this moment was it — the start of another chapter or the ending of the book that was your love affair.
"What are you doing here?" was what greeted you in the kitchen as you busied yourself getting some refreshments. You knew she'd excuse herself and follow you. You could feel her breath at the back of your neck, wondering if she was eye fucking you in the revealing dress you decided to wear for her that day.
"That's something I didn't expect coming out of your mouth after weeks of not seeing and talking to each other."
You faced her this time and drank a gulp from your cup, suddenly feeling emboldened.
Wanda could only sneer as if in disgust but you mistook it as challenged.
"You're not invited. I think you should just leave."
You frowned. "Why? After all that I've done for you and your twins. I'm sure they'd be happy I'm here on their special day—"
"I need you to leave, Y/n."
"Why so hostile? I haven't done anything wrong."
Wanda paused for a moment as she let some guests pass their way.
Then you got serious. "I thought you'd end it with him."
This time she glared at you, her nostrils flaring. "Do you think I'm that stupid, Y/n?"
"I never thought of it—"
"Do you think I'd believe some kid over my good of a husband that he could do such a thing towards me?"
And your whole world just crumbled. "What?"
"Vision told me everything. You're so good, so desperate to have me that you would concoct such a creative story."
"I didn't make it up. It was true. He was cheating—"
"Shut your mouth," she hissed, turning her head to see if you two were still alone.
"I can't believe you won't believe me," you said aloud, more to yourself than directed at her.
Wanda exhaled as she took a step back from you. "Besides the point, I'm trying to save our marriage by putting a stop into this nonsense—"
"Nonsense?" you asked incredulously. "You literally had your tongue and fingers inside me not two weeks ago."
Wanda flared again and cornered you, her fingers wrapping the front of your dress. "You better shut your mouth or else—"
"Or else what?"
You thought you'd broken her resolve as she stared at you. You thought the look on her eyes was hunger and longing. You thought she'd kiss you like she always did. But you had thought wrong. You'd thought wrong all this time.
"You might not believe me," you spat on her face. "But does Vision believe how innocent and faithful you were of a wife?"
"You wouldn't dare." Her grip tightened around you and you wished you hadn't worn that dress.
You were almost crying, but you stopped yourself as you fought back. You didn't want her to see how weak you were.
"What if I might?"
"If you ever dare tell him or anyone about us," Wanda went on, her face only an inch or less from your face, lips barely touching, "I swear to God I will tell everyone how good of a liar you are."
You searched her eyes if she meant it. If she was only bluffing. And you wished she were.
But the hatred and distaste in her tongue proved otherwise.
"You would be expelled," she whispered. "Legal actions would be taken against you, for creating such false gossip between married couple. No one would hire you with your records. And no one," she paused, her thumb tracing your lower lip, "no one would trust you. I'm sure you don't want that, right?"
You hadn't seen this side of Wanda. And maybe this was what your friends were warning you all along, that married couples weren't meant to be dealt with.
The woman you loved so much turned into someone you wouldn't thought would ever do something cruel to you.
"You wouldn't," you said but you didn't sound sure anymore.
Wanda finally let go and stepped back from you. "I'd do anything for my family."
And you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. Fortunately, that ground was in some sort of a guest interrupting Wanda as she asked for some paprika spice.
Before Wanda left to tend to the guest, she whispered so low that only you could hear, "Don't do anything stupid I wouldn't do."
But you weren't listening anymore. All became white noise as you looked at your surroundings. You were frozen on the spot, suddenly realizing you didn't belong there at all.
And what little of dignity left inside you fuelled your legs and feet to move on their own accord. You left their house silently, promising yourself you'd never ever dare set foot unto that house again as long as you lived.
 
YOU DELETED her number, your photos together, any memories that the two of you ever shared. You requested to transfer to another dorm just to eradicate the nights you spent with Wanda in your old room. Your friends were helpful. If it weren't for them, you wouldn't have lasted another two months until you left that shithole of a place.
You never dared to be alone with Vision, nor cared when you still saw him and that professor locking tongues together. You just needed to leave. To forget that you just got your heart broken by someone you shouldn't have been having affairs in the first place.
And that day finally came. It was graduation day and you never thought Wanda would come but she was there, in all her glory.
"Don't worry, Y/n, we won't let her come near you," Kate promised. But the fear inside you only worsened. What if she'd tell everyone in the university how much of a slut you were?
You couldn't believe you could ever love someone so empty as your eyes finally met. Time didn't slow down this time.
You were the first to look away as it already pained you how stupid you were.
When the ceremony was over, you immediately left the venue as if scared Wanda could still make a scene if she wanted to.
Something inside you urged to go to the comfort room to get changed first before heading back to your dorm. So you did just that.
And when you were already leaving through the front doors after changing, there Wanda was with her back at you already waiting outside, her neck craned around her searching for something. As if she was looking for you.
You could have just done it. You could have just walked outside and talked to her.
But you couldn't, not after what she did.
You stepped back from the door and went to another exit instead, vowing to yourself never to come back.
Author's Note: Not sure I'd be writing a part two for this because I just want to read angsty stuff nowadays 😂😂😂😭😭😭
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Text
Skip the small talk
Request: None A/N: Again, I just want to thank everyone for supporting my stories and liking/commenting/reblogging/etc. It means the world to have such great reception to these one-shots. So please, enjoy this lil' story about the reader being a badass :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, drug use, decapitation Summary: You really weren't looking for trouble. All you wanted was something to eat, but of course things go awry. This is the Wasteland, after all.
Word Count: 2.6k+
(Gif Credit to @acecroft)
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Thunder booms across the Wasteland, combining with the sound of heavy rain on metal rooftops. 
It continues in tandem with its partner Lighting, who illuminates the hazy green poison that hangs low in the air tonight. The storm has been raging for hours, and doesn’t seem to be on the verge of letting up anytime soon. 
After hours of tossing and listening to the howl of the storm, you decide to give up on sleep for the moment. The inn room you’d acquired is small but cozy, lit only by a couple candles that burn bright orange on the side table. You untangle yourself from Cooper where he lies half-naked beside you, scarred skin on display while in the security of your arms. As per usual, he crankily grumbles curses at you for causing a disturbance, but there’s no malice behind the words. His eyes blink open and lock on to you, immediately more alert at the prospect of you venturing away. 
“What’re y’doin’?” His question is thick with sleep, forced through the haze by this codependency you’ve developed on each other. 
You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and reach a hand back to brush his arm gently. “Thunder’s keeping me up. I’m gonna go see if the saloon downstairs has anything in the way of food.”
Cooper opens his mouth to respond, but a cough cuts him off. You pluck his inhaler from the nightstand and press it into his waiting hand. The cough wasn’t unusual, but you’d been traveling for days on end in search of a bounty and knew Cooper was putting on a facade of toughness. Everyone needed rest, and The Ghoul just didn’t know when to admit it. 
“Go back to sleep.” You murmur, “I’ll only be a minute.”
He relents, but points a finger in your direction. “Fine. But they got anythin’ good, you bring me some back too, huh?”
You snatch the hand out of the air and press a kiss to his palm. “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”
And since the Wasteland’s most fearsome bounty hunter would rather live through ten more atomic bombs than not have the last word, he scoffs. 
“Bossy fuckin’ woman.”
You giggle at Cooper’s tough love as you tug thick tights and a long gray jacket onto your body. Out of pure habit, you look around for a weapon. Yours are stashed on the other side of the bed, but Cooper’s shotgun is propped against the wall by the door. You opt to grab it, slinging the gun onto your shoulder and making sure the strap is secure before cracking open the door. 
The old clock hanging in the hall reads one thirty in the morning, but the sounds from the saloon downstairs continue as normal. Perhaps a bit more toned down than the daytime, but voices still mingle and dance together up the stairs. You trail after them, patting your pockets to ensure there’s enough caps to pay for a hot meal. Cooper’s half-canister of Jet and the wrinkled bounty poster sure ain’t going to pay for anything.
Eyes flicker towards you as you step onto the main floor, but they return back to their own tables soon enough. Everyone’s clad in raincoats or hats, outfitted for the weather. The town was a central point for a few settlements which popped up around it, and a major trade destination. The frequency of armed caravan guards passing through proved to be a rather decent deterrent for the unpleasant types, and most people had been nice to the point of frightening. 
At the bar, you pull out a rusty stool and settle onto it. All the other patrons but one are at tables closer to the door. The same man who’d rented the room to Cooper and yourself is down the bar chatting. 
“No surprise there. They’ve got some questionable folks runnin’ cargo these days.” The bartender is saying. He drops his hands on the bar. “But they take what they can get.”
The other man at the bar is older, just like the bartender. Dressed in dirty clothes, hood up with heavy gloves next to him, you figure he might be a lead farmer. You give a brief nod his way before focusing back on the bartender as he slides over. 
“What can I do for you, ma’am?” For someone out in the Wasteland, his face is kind. Weathered and probably suffering from radiation poisoning like the rest of you, but kind nonetheless. 
“Got anything hot to eat back there?” You ask, but think better of it. “Or anything to eat?”
“You’re in luck. One of the trade caravans left us with an old brahmin yesterday. Fresh brahmin steak if it tickles your fancy?”
You toss the caps onto the bar. “Sign me up.”
He busies himself at the cooking station for a few minutes, and eventually delivers a steaming steak in front of you. He checks on the other bar-goer and floats back over to you after a few minutes. 
“So, I have to ask.” He starts, “You came in here with that ghoul, yeah?”
You pause, mouth full and one hand instinctively freeing itself for a weapon if necessary. He must have caught onto your bristling, as he holds both hands up in a placating gesture.
“I’m sorry. It’s nothin’ bad, I was just curious. We don’t get a lot of ghouls around here, let alone people traveling with them.”
Hell, there was no need for him to tell you that. Cooper and yourself brought stares everywhere you went, discounting the cities you frequented that knew you both by reputation. You’d been called every name in the book in small communities like this, from chem-head, to ghoul-fucker and anything people could come up with.
“Yeah, we travel together. Easier to stay alive and make money when there’s two of us.” You saw off another piece of steak. 
“Bounty hunters, then?”
You shrug. “Sometimes. We do whatever needs doing most of the time. If the price is right.”
If Cooper was next to you, he’d be spewing threats of dismemberment and cutting out tongues for all the questions, but you didn’t mind. It was nice meeting someone who wasn’t immediately training crosshairs on your body. 
“Fair enough. I’m Clint, if you need anything.” The bartender wipes his hands with a rag and moves about his way, readjusting liquor bottles and carrying beers out to tables that are hollering for them. 
You finish your steak and gulp down the water Clint had set in front of you at some point. It washes away the gamey taste of mutated beef. You wait for him to return, as you were sure that fresh brahmin steak qualified as ‘anything good’ in Cooper’s eyes. 
“This seat taken?” 
You barely glance over your shoulder at the question, but give a half-hearted shrug. There was a whole bar and whoever this idiot is wants to sit next to you?
“Nuh-uh.”
The stool scrapes against the uneven wood floor, and you look over at the man that’s sat himself beside you. He’s younger than you expected, but vaguely familiar as if you’ve passed by him before. Brown hair slicked back close to his skull and shaved on the sides,  and a distinct pale discoloration on his chin. There’s a valiant attempt at beard growth but it’s patchy at best. 
You stare for just a moment before returning to the drops of water left in your dirty cup. 
“Now, I can see you’re not from around here.” His tone is boyish, almost conceited. 
Narrowly resisting an eyeroll, you set your cup back down. “Aren’t you just a right scholar?”
“I know a few things.” He waves his hand at Clint as he returns, and a beer is set in front of him moments later. “I know that you rode into town tonight, looking for a bounty.”
Lightning illuminates all of the cracks in the building. Thunder rolls. 
It takes a moment, but hits you as a smile is breaking out across the man’s face. You hadn’t passed by him before or traded. Your hand ghosts over the folded-up bounty poster in the pocket of your coat. 
“Name’s Spade, by the way.” 
Fuck. You’d never forget the name of a bounty. Especially the one set to inherit an entire Gunner outfit that had been threatening caravans for miles in every direction. 
“Spade, huh? Named after a shovel?” You prod. “No wonder you ain’t good at making friends.”
Spade calmly sips on his beer. “Neither are you, I hear. Though that might be due to your choice in company.”
Turning your head all the way towards him, you entertain the banter. Trying to avoid the subject of having a partner. You didn’t doubt if the shooting started that Cooper would come running down the stairs, but surprise is always an advantage. 
“Yeah, I’m starting to question it myself.” 
“I heard you were funny.” Spade chuckles, and withdraws a bulky device from underneath his coat. It crackles and pops like a geiger counter. “But I know you didn’t come here alone.”
You listen to the device pop, but don’t recognize it. 
“Say, how much Rad-Away do you go through? Traveling, eating, sleeping and whatever else with The Ghoul must really fuck with your health. His radiation signature is all over you.” Spade tucks the device away. 
“Don’t worry, I wear lead-lined panties.” You pat your thighs and stand. “And I don’t have time for this.”
Just as you make it to your feet, you notice the rest of the patrons do the same. They all shrug off their raincoats and reveal standard Gunner clothing, and you pause. Betraying nothing, you simply stare. Counting eleven opponents including Spade. Too busy thinking about how you grabbed Cooper’s shotgun and no extra ammo because you’re apparently a fool. The one combat knife in your boot is a viable choice, but tough to handle so many. You note Clint’s swift exit out the back door of the establishment.
“All this firepower for me?” 
Spade follows suit, and stands. He towers over you. 
“Don’t play dumb. I know they want me dead, and I’m not keen on letting that happen.”
You nod. “Understandable.”
And it’s then one of his men gets twitchy, and you’re diving behind the bar at the cocking of a gun. 
Spade hollers something at the men that sound suspiciously like “kill her”, but the thunder drowns him out. You press your back up against the bar for cover, and whip the shotgun into your grip. You feel at the knife in your boot, and brush past the Jet in your pocket. 
“Fuck it.” 
You draw out the inhalant and put it between your lips. Bracing for the adrenaline rush, you squeeze the Chems into your mouth. Not much of a frequent user, you resist the urge to cough and waste the effects. 
In just a few seconds, the world around you feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. You leap up from behind the bar, aiming and popping off the two rounds you have into the groupies that Spade brought along. One slug crashes through two of them while the other blows another’s head to pieces. 
Three down, eight to go. 
You sling the gun back over your shoulder and draw the knife. In your peripheral, you notice Spade reaching for his waistband. On pure instinct, you whip the knife in his direction. It finds his mark in his right eye, and he goes to the ground wailing. Just as the Jet begins to wear thin, you hop over the bar towards the crowd. 
“Fuck her up!”
You bend down near Spade’s writing frame, and rip the knife out of his eye socket with a wet squelch. Leaving him for last, you twirl the knife around and beckon at his cronies. 
“Well?”
You lunge towards the closest, thrusting the knife at his throat. He catches your wrist and twists it away, but you’re quick to jam your elbow upwards into his chin. It stuns him just enough that you can stab the knife into his guts and rip sideways. Entrails spill, and you reach through them to grab the pipe pistol at his hip. 
The next few go down via bullet, and you’re eventually left with only Spade alive. He’s clawed his way to his feet as you finished off his gang, and now has an automatic pistol pointed at your head. It wavers dangerously, as he’s half-blind and still spurting blood from the wounded eye socket.
You drop the pistol that’s been occupying your right hand and hold up the knife. 
“Wanna get reacquainted?” 
Spade bares his teeth at you. “And here we brought all the guns for The Ghoul.”
A shrug. “I’m sort of offended that I was underestimated.”
“I’ll make a note of it.” 
Spade pulls the trigger as soon as you duck. His intentions were given away by the fractional squint of his good eye, struggling to aim properly. You charge towards him beneath the rounds, colliding with his knees. The bullets fly upwards, blasting holes in a narrow column up the wall. It sends splinters flying near the staircase. 
“Motherfucker!”
About fucking time Cooper decided to show up.
You straddle Spade’s body and knock the pistol away. One boot keeps his wrist pinned down, and you bring the knife to his neck. 
“Next time,” You growl, tracing the blade along his Adam’s Apple, “Skip the small talk.”
Blood sprays as you apply pressure, puncturing through his carotid. You drag the knife to the side, leaning away to avoid the spray as best as possible. Until he stops twitching, you keep him pinned to the ground. 
“Well goddamn baby, next time invite me to the party.” The Ghoul, as Spade had referred to him, swaggers over to you.  His honey-soaked eyes survey the carnage. “I thought you was gettin’ something to eat, not takin’ out our bounty so soon.”
You wipe your bloody hands on Spade’s coat and huff indignantly. “And I thought your old ass would move faster when you heard gunshots.”
Cooper holds out a gloved hand to help you up. “Thunder blocked out the sound.”
“Excuses, excuses.” You grumble, allowing him to pull you up. 
The world spins, thanks to the adrenaline fading and Jet withdrawals. You stagger into Cooper, and he grips your arm. 
“You ain’t shot, are ya? Left the stimpaks upstairs.”
You shake your head and let him steer you onto a barstool. “Nah. Jet.”
Cooper whoops. “My girl! Well shouldn’t we just be celebratin’ this momentous occasion.”
“Fuck you. I’m not doing anything but going back to bed.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Fuckin’ Chems.”
The Ghoul chuckles and uses two fingers to hold and lift your chin. He kisses your lips, already dry from licking at them. You hold the lapels of his coat to keep upright and only pull away when another pang of dizziness wracks you. 
He steps away for a moment, and gets to work removing Spade’s head from his body to return for the money. 
“Damn.” You rub your temples. “How the hell do you use that shit all the time?”
“Years of practice.” Cooper hums, and finds a burlap sack behind the bar to package the head. “Sure worked good for you, huh?”
You hop from the stool, using the bar as a crutch to stay upright. “Uh huh, right up until it didn’t. Now I wanna go to bed. Desperately.”
“Fine, fine.” Cooper relents, bloody sack in hand. He follows you to the stairs, free hand ghosting over your hip. 
The Ghoul hovers behind as if you’re going to start cartwheeling back down, and herds you back into the rented room. You strip and crawl back in bed, hiding away from the cool air beneath the blanket. Cooper takes his time, but eventually blesses you with his body heat. You cozy up, letting it burn away the symptoms of Jet withdrawals.
“Did you ever get somethin’ to eat?”
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thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
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papercorgiworld · 2 days
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Two idiots in love
A Theodore Nott imagine
I’m back! Apologies for my silence. Especially to the ones who’ve been sending me love, but I was really busy and barely had any time to open this app or my phone in general. I got this post and a few more coming in the next few days. I had a very productive evening and day so, yey me. Sending you lots of love! Happy readings!
— The request —
Plss do a Theodore fic where he tutors the reader in potions or something and he’s a bit rude but like sweet at the same time??? Idk like he thinks she really cute but can’t believe someone can be so dumb
— The writing —
Theodore was a quiet guy and not one to make a move on just any girl. Unless drunk, then he might end up in a bathroom with some equally wasted girl for a little make out, but actively searching for a girlfriend just seemed like so much work to Theo. He much rather just hang out with his friends and skip class to have a smoke. 
However, this did not mean that he was immune to having a crush. Oh no, he had a crush and the worst case of crushing. He was constantly thinking about you and stealing glances whenever he could. It wasn’t on him, you were just too damn perfect. It was almost annoying Theodore how amazing you were. 
“Hey, Theo mate. I have a question.” Enzo quips as he takes a seat opposite of Theodore and reaches for some toast. “No.” Theodore answers without looking up from his plate, making Mattheo and Blaise smirk, but Enzo isn’t fazed at all. “Fine. Your loss. I’ll just have to tutor (y/n) myself.” Theodore’s eyes shoot up to meet Enzo’s with a piercing look to determine whether his friend was bullshitting him or not. Enzo’s smile reveals his amusement but also that he was telling the truth. “She needs a tutor?” Theodore says with a calm voice, though there is an obvious hint of excitement in it. “Yes, apparently she blew her last potions test… like big time. And she’s so desperate to fix her grade she asked me to ask you, apparently ‘the smartest guy in class’ - her words not mine - to tutor her. I’m assuming you’re interested?” She thinks I’m the smartest guy in class. So she’s noticed me. She knows who I am. She knows I’m smart. That’s good. Really good. She knows me. “Theo?” Enzo askes breaking Theo’s train of thoughts. “Uhm-Yeah-I… I’ll think about it. If I have time. And stuff.” Blaise, Enzo and Mattheo stare Theodore with wide eyes. “Someone hit him.” Blaise finally speaks and Mattheo nods before raising his hand to smack Theo’s head. “If I have the time, bloody idiot.” Theodore pushes Matt’s hand away and narrows his eyes at Mattheo’s mockery and insult. “Just say you’ll do it.” Enzo urges and Theo looks at him for a second before nodding in agreement.
***
Pretty. Perfect. Potions-Peanut. Theo thought as he watched you screw up a simple brew for the third time, like he hadn’t just explained to you step by step how to do it. He was falling in love even more as you sighed and stared at your cauldron and back at your instructions. “I think I messed it up again.” Theodore chuckles at your sad and defeated expression. “You think?!” Theo jokes, but immediately worries that that might be a bit rude of him. “But uhm-do you know where it went wrong?” He asks and you focus on your instructions again in search of which step you screwed up. Your eyebrows knit together even more and Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. “You really don’t have a clue what you’re doing, do you?” You drop your head a little. Great, I'm making a total fool of myself in front of Theodore Nott. Not only am I ruining my fantasy of ever having a chance with him, now he and his friends will be laughing at me for the rest of the year… 
“You can’t be this dumb? Check again, you’ll find it.” Theo breaks the silence and your eyes meet his with a hesitant look, before quickly searching for an answer on the list of instructions. Yes, I just called her dumb. Good work, Theo. Theodore grits his teeth as his anger with himself grows. After a few seconds of you searching for how you screwed up your potion and Theodore searching for something right to say, you are the first to speak up. “I give up, I suck at potions.” You let the paper in your hands fall on the desk in front of you and turn to look at Theo who gives you a surprisingly sweet smile. “Yeah you do, but don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll explain it again…and better this time.” 
Your heart melts at his sweet voice and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You really don’t have to waste your whole evening explaining potions to me, I’m sure you have better things to do.” Theodore smirks at your blushed cheeks. “I’m sure I won’t be teaching you potions all night. At some point you’ll get it and successfully brew this… and then we can move on to more interesting subjects.” You look back at the papers on the desk and press your lips together to keep yourself from smiling like a love struck fool, while Theo's smug eyes scan your face with satisfaction. “Dumb, but so adorable.”
“What?” You look up at Theo and he looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean to say that outloud.” He chuckles awkwardly and you can’t help but laugh. “I might be dumb, but you’re a first class idiot as well.” Theodore rolls his eyes, while an amused smile tugs on his lips. She’s right about that. I am an idiot. He reaches for the books on the desk, forcing his smile into a line. “Let’s just focus on potions.” You chuckle at his flusteredness. “Sure.” 
Both flustered your glance over at one another only to catch the other one already staring. The potion might not have been right, but the chemistry definitely was.
***
“Sooo, how did the tutoring go?” Mattheo asks as he catches up with Theodore in the hallway. “Great.” Theodore answers, but avoids eye contact with his friend, making him suspicious. “Great? What does that mean, she understands the material now?” Theodore chuckles and his tongue darts in his mouth. “No, she still doesn’t get it. Which means she needs another session. So, it went great.” Theodore explained, unable to hide his happiness now that he gets to spend more time with you. Mattheo just shakes his head in amusement. 
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thepenultimateword · 3 days
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Your stuff is so good!! You should write a villain x weapon designer civilian snippet :0
Thank you, thank you, friend! Also, I’m loving the idea of that dynamic, so here you go!
CW: Weapons, unconsciousness, knockout gas
...
“Move and I’ll blow your head off.”
The ridges on the gun's metal barrel dug sharply into Civilian's hand, but they managed to keep their aim and voice steady as they pointed both at the villain in front of them. The criminal was currently backed up against the train doors, hands in the air, gas mask dangling nonchalantly off two fingers.
The villain raised their brow. "What are you some sort of hero?"
"No talking."
"I've never seen you before. I thought I'd met all of the agency's sentinals in white. Though you're not exactly dressed for the position. Maybe you're not--"
"I said no talking!" Civilian barked, taking a step forward and jerking the gun forward menacingly.
"Ok! Ok!" Villain said. They raised their hands higher. “Touch-y.”
On any other day, Civilian would have been like the other passengers, huddled up together in the far corners of the train or pressed back tight in their seats, as if they could disappear by mere force of will. But today, Civilian had been tasked with transporting their newest prototype to the agency for a demonstration. An electro-pulse gun that they’d tested on no less than five watermelons the night before. They were well acquainted with the damage it could do. They’d ripped the thing from its protective case without even thinking.
“I’ve already alerted the heroes to your location,” Civilian said. “So there’s no point in fighting anymore. Stay still until the next station and you’ll be arrested in one piece.”
“You alerted the heroes?” The villain raised both brows high. “How? I jammed the cell signals over the next twenty miles. Unless…” They grinned. “You have some other form of contact. You do work for the agency, don’t you?”
“Have you listened to a thing I've said? No more questions!"
“You’re the one who keeps chatting, darling. What? Nervous?”
Yes. And no. Their body was alight with adrenaline, every nerve a buzzing, quivering charge, and yet at the same time, they were surreally confident, gut numb and mind blank.
Villain pushed lightly off the doors with their elbows, taking a small, probing step forward. “Would you even really shoot?”
“You really want to try me?"
“You heroes make a lot of talk but not much action. What, don’t you have a code? 'Do no harm' or something like that? Besides, you're so cute." Another step forward. "I don't think you've ever been in a fight, let alone killed someone, so why don't you just--"
Civilian aimed the gun at the ceiling and squeezed the trigger. The energy projectile punched through the metal with ear-splitting BANG! The passengers shrieked. Villain knocked back against the doors with a thud.
The wind whistled loudly overhead as the air whooshed over the new gap in the roof, and after that shot, their ears might as well have been stuffed full of cotton, but even if they couldn't quite measure their own volume, they fixed the gun back on Villain's head and drove their point home.
“I’m really trying not to traumatize all these lovely people with the visual of your head exploding, and honestly, I’d really rather not kill you. But if you press me…if you doubt me, you’ll be dead faster than you can question me again.”
Villain gripped their mask abit tighter but their expression remained smooth and their posture loose. They whistled a long low note. “You’re something else, gunslinger. When this is all over, feel free to look me up anytime.”
“Fortunately, I don’t frequent prisons.”
“Me neither." Villain flashed a broader grin, full of white teeth and pocked with a dimple on one side. "Looks like we have something in common.”
The train screeched, the deceleration sending everyone lurching a bit to the right. In that exact moment, when Civilian's gun swayed a few centimeters off target, the villain's free hand shot to their belt.
"Hey!" Civilian shouted, stumbling a little as the train came to a complete stop. Villain tossed something small and round to the floor. Ping! Ping! It bounced twice, rolled a little into the aisle, and exploded in a cloud of cool fog. No not fog. Gas.
Civilian immediately turned their face into their shoulder, tipping the gun even further off target. The whole train car shrieked while Villain calmly pulled the gas mask over their head, obscuring the beginnings of an infuriating grin. Civilian opened their mouth to launch another threat but immediately choked on the sickly sweet gas. It raised around them so rapidly, they could barely see the nose of the weapon let alone, Villain. Not to mention...everything was getting sorta...slanty...
"S-sleepin'gas?" they slurred.
"I was never here to harm any of you." Villain's muffled voice seemed to come from all directions, echoey and distorted.
Civilian fell to one knee. Was it normal to feel like their head was buzzing?
"You made a really cute gunslinger, though. Like a western sheriff. Or an outlaw. Bet you'd be good in a holdup."
The train doors hissed as they opened. As some of the gas slipped free, they caught a glimpse of the Villain's shoulder as they darted out onto the platform.
The gun suddenly felt so heavy in their arms but they forced it up anyway. The barrel tipped to and fro, and their finger trembled on the trigger. They wanted to risk a blind shot, but there could be dozens of people standing outside on that platform. If they hit anyone else...
Their vision blurred, then blackened. They barely managed to set the gun down on the metal floor before passing out over top of it.
When they awoke, they were in the agency medical wing. They recognized it immediately by its obnoxious orange bedsheets and, well, Keith. Sort of hard to miss a giant, shining man in hero-white scrubs.
Civilian slowly pushed themselves upright. Their head throbbed with the movement, and they let out a rogue groan.
Keith turned away from the figure two beds down, covered from head to toe in bruises and now enveloped in their own cocoon of white luminescence.
"Civilian!" Keith beamed, light glimmering off his teeth. "You've regained consciousness! Any pain?"
Civilian rubbed the bridge of their nose. "Just my head... Was I hurt?"
"Not necessarily." Keith pressed both large hands to the sides of Civilian's skull. Civilian closed their eyes as they healer's glow wrapped around their head. Warmth trickled over their face and under their skin, ebbing the pain away little by little. "Just a very large dose of some sort of gaseous anesthesia. Luckily, there have been no long-term consequences so far. The ventilation created by the hole in the roof probably lessened some of the potency. Your handiwork?"
The events on the train rushed back all at once. They pulled out of Keith's grasp.
"Did we get them?" They looked rapidly around their bedside. "Where's my pulse gun?"
Keith stepped back and leaned against the empty bed beside Civilian's. "The gun is in weapons testing, I think."
"And the villain?"
"No. They escaped. We arrived just moments too late before they must have blended with the crowd.
Civlian threw themself back against their pillows with a heavy sigh. "Great."
"You still helped. You stopped Villain from completing whatever they originally planned and provided many citizens with immediate medical treatment by calling us in."
"Oh yeeeeah, I'm sure the whole team was just dazzled by my competence and quick-thinking. Especially when I couldn't hold Villain in place on anything but a moving train."
Keith frowned. "You don't need the title to be a hero."
"Thanks, Keith, that's really nice and heartfelt, and I'm sure you believe it, but seeing how you do have the title, and no one in power here thinks the same, it doesn't really mean that much to me."
Keith frowned but luckily didn't argue any further. Civilian knew they were being rude, but they really didn't need anyone else telling them that they were special the way they were. That they could do good their own way. That being a hero didn't even matter that much. It mattered a whole lot to them. And now they'd practically proven the entire agency right.
"What were they even doing on that train?"
"Robbery?" Keith shrugged. "Knock out the passengers and loot all their valuables."
"Alone?" Civilian traced the lines of the ceiling panels with their eyes. "They didn't even have a bag. How much could they have gathered if they planned on knocking out an entire train?"
"We don't know they were alone. They could have easily had accomplices posing as civilians throughout the train."
"True... Does the agency have a file on them? Tall, skinny, long black coat, annoyingly perfect eyebrows. Didn't show a power."
"I could look...but I'm not supposed to share that sort of info outside of other heroes..."
"Come on! What was that whole, 'you don't need a title' nonsense?"
"It wasn't nonsense! You are a hero! Just...not a legally sanctioned one."
Civilian sat back up and lowered their voice. "Come on, Keith. I'm not going to do anything; I'm just curious. You don't even have to give me the whole file. Just take a couple pictures of anything you think might also be on the news."
Keith grimaced.
"Please? I was so close today. So close to being what I always planned to be... Just let me chase that high a little longer. Then I'll go back to the weapons lab and never mention it again. Promise."
Keith inhaled a long breath, letting it out in a loud, irritated sigh. "Ok, fine. But don't bring it up to anyone. Ever. And I'm only giving you the first page."
Civilian's insides sank a little; they weren't sure what a first page of a villain file looked like, but they could assume it wasn't much. But they couldn't really be picky, so... "That's fine. Just the first page is perfect."
Keith looked like they had hoped that detail would deter them, but he continued on. "It might take awhile. I'm a hero, but I'm a healer, so no one is expecting me to march into the files room and request info on villains."
"That's ok, I can be patient. I work in weapons, remember? That's like the ultimate test in being patient."
Keith slid a hand over his face. "Ok. I'm also going to need more detail than 'annoyingly perfect eyebrows.'"
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filurig · 3 days
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a guy ive had in mind for a whileee its a crime i havent actually made an oc of my faeries yet so this guy!! this guy is actually the faerie that provides folke with funky fantasy hrt. more on them (and a bit about faeries) under the cut...
krillimir, or as they're known to many non-faeries, (spider's web) glasswing, is a rather newly adult faerie, having emerged about 3 years ago from their pupae. a bit of a free spirit in comparison to other faeries, they hail from the Hemarikkit Till colony to the south of vätterunda, perhaps the largest colony in the area with its main structures occupying a sunlit forest grove. due to the size and relatively stable nature of the colony, there was not a lot of pressure/demand on newly emerged faeries to take up a specific role, and krillimir preferred to keep their options open and thus chose to identify as a generalist.
generalist faeries can kind of take on less specific work than other faerie genders usually do, and especially work which involves collaboration with other species, and curious about the world outside of the colony, krillimir applied to be a participant in the colony's medical program - basically all faerie colonies have a medical program which involves a collaboration with the area's local tomtar, who will provide them with illusory magic to maintain their settlements and keep them hidden/protected. in return, the faeries offer their faerie dust, which can be finely tuned to affect an organism's hormone levels (as well as some other biochemicals) - this of course can be used to treat certain conditions, or as a way to alleviate pain, etc.
gullmar, who is folke's "tomte uncle" in a way, ended up visiting the Hemarikkit Till colony in search of a faerie that could help with folke's Trans Gender Blues (aka: provide him with hrt, after gullmar realised that folke was trans) and the freshly emerged krillimir would be assigned to him. due to the nature of the assignment, krillimir would just be permanently assigned to gullmar and comes by the granholm residence once every few months to readjust folke's hormone levels to the proper ones when the T levels start to fall off. while gullmar can find the faerie a bit neurotic and too energetic, their relationship grows to become amicable - a part of gullmar probably feels a fatherly instinct towards them hehe.
some extra faerie stuff i thought about making this guy so ill include:
faeries do not have a directly "spoken" language like we do, and communicate mostly through pheromones, body gestures and sounds like squeaking, trilling and hissing. they can communicate with other species through their pheromones, but as they communicate with said species in the target's language, things like names are often just directly translated. "krillimir" means "spider's web glass wing". how do we have the "romanization" of their name then? Well through some convoluted shenanigans. basically - tomtar have an anda-powered ability to learn the language of other species. with enough exposure and socialisation they will just naturally begin to gain an understanding of that language, and their ability has led them to be able to learn faerie language, especially helped by it also existing in a written form. while faeries don't speak this written language, it is how they conceptualise more complex ideas internally (the internal voice so to speak) - with the tomte ability, they can somewhat approximate what the language would sound like if spoken - at least filtered through the tomte brain. its most definitely not 100% accurate to what it would sound like though but most faeries accept it as close enough. this probably makes no sense but erm it sorta makes sense to me. LOL. but it means that most species that haven't learn to read faerie will only hear the literal translation when a faerie introduces themself, and thus many call krillimir by glasswing for short.
krillimir is a "generalist", which is one of many faerie genders. i made a post about it a while back! they go by they/them but generally doesn't mind he/she either.
faerie clothing is generally made of a fabric woven together by silk produced by them themselves - this silk is mainly produced by broodtenders or generalists. they also have a special way of "tanning" leaves, ending up with them having leather-like properties, which is part of what krillimir's outfit is made out of there! very popular reccuring symbols in their fabric design are "eye" "mimicry" and sometimes patterns which mimic some other animal/creature.
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ezlo-x · 2 days
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“Wow I hope BotW gets a sequel someday…” - my TotK summary <3
It’s been a year, and honestly. I did not complete that game at all. I watched lets plays and cutscenes in youtube and a few playthroughs of my friends. And every time, my regret of buying this game grows ever so slightly. I know I sound mean and harsh but I prommy I got nothing against ppl who actually enjoyed TotK. This is more of my personal experience of how my excitement playing this game completely burned me out less than halfway through the game.
Gameplay
I’ll start with gameplay first, as I have issues with it. Let’s start with the physics of the game itself. Ngl, there was a small worry in the back of my mind when I realized there would be in-game physics and that you have to rely on those said physics. I personally don’t have a good experience with game physics and they usually tend to frustrate me. Which somewhat happened when playing the game. It didn’t happen too often, thankfully, maybe because the zonai parts didn’t tend to last long. Speaking of Zonai parts and builds
I wish building Zonai stuff was a bit more fun. Or at least give us more time to experience our builds. We already have a disadvantage by having a limited amount of batteries that you have to slowly upgrade throughout the game. So, seeing that one of your Zonai pieces starts to flash and disappear is annoying. I understand we can obtain more zonai parts throughout Hyrule, but I wish it lasted long enough. Also, the fact that you can’t really travel a lot in many of the builds, oh how disappointing it was to build a cool Zonai truck with big ass wheels but get frustrated that it couldn’t pass through a few bumps on the road. I feel like the Hoverbike is the best Zonai build of the game.
The Ultrahand is fun when trying to solve puzzles or merge random items. Fusing weapons, on the other hand, is my favorite thing in the game. There’s something really satisfying about fusing a really powerful weapon together. I really don’t mind that the weapons are breakable if that means I have a spot to make a strong weapon. Weapon durability never really bothered me. Both games push you to explore around to look for weapons. I think it would be boring if they weren’t breakable.
The shrines are a big improvement from BotW's shrines. I wished there were more challenging Shrines over the many King Rauru blessings. I can't really say much about the dungeons as I only completed two out of the five. But I think there was a bit to be desired; it's almost a Zelda dungeon.
Sage abilities. I want to speak to the game designer who thought it was a great idea to activate the sage abilities with the same button you click to pick up items on the floor. A total downgrade to the way you’d activate the Champion abilities in BotW.
Rupees. I would like to speak to the game designer who thought it was a great idea that you now have to manually press A to pick up rupees from the floor rather than casually walking in front of it to automatically pick it up. From my previous point, do you know how many times I’ve tried to pick up rupees only for Tulin’s ability to fly them away from me?
The sky islands, ohh boyyy, finding out that they had to reduce the amount of sky islands is disappointing, but I understand in a game design aspect. BUT it is disappointing that the game was advertising itself for the sky islands, only for there to be very few in the final. Like remember back in 2021 when they were advertising SkSw HD, and then i think a year later a totk teaser dropped and Link was falling from the skies? Good times ❤️
The Depths: I enjoyed the Depths a bit more than the Sky Islands. But it does get boring after a while if you’re not there to fight monsters or look for treasure, which is also disappointing. I love the OST descending down a chasm and entering the depths. Also, don’t get me started on how frustrating it is to use Zonai builds there compared to the surface or sky islands.
I think those are all my thoughts on the gameplay. I still have a few more issues with it but I feel like it mixes with the story so lets get that over with
Limitation vs Freedom
My biggest issue with this game is that it gives you the freedom to do whatever you want. However, there is still a story attached, and the story still wants to play out linearly. So, we have a game that grants you total freedom on how you want to play this game, but the story is still linear. But even if you decide to experience the story while doing dungeons and shrines. The game doesn't update with the piece of information that you discover.
The Dragon Tears are a really flawed way to experience the story. Zelda's memories are scattered across Hyrule; the number of times I've seen ppl say they accidentally got the tears out of order cause they thought it was similar to BotW's way of getting the memories. Basically, if you happen to be near one memory, you might as well get it cause it'll get annoying to go back and forth. Only to the person's shock, they got a cutscene meeting the Queen and King and then going up the Hebra region as that's the closest memory from the previous one. Just to see Queen Sonia dead on the floor.
What also bothers me is that the game doesn't update when you make a discovery in these memories. For example, I found out that Phantom Ganon can transform into Zelda in the memories and walk up to the NPCs in hopes of a change of dialogue. But getting nothing, walking up to Purah, Tulin, then Yunobo, and seeing no change of dialogue got really tiresome. It's as if the game doesn't believe you're smart enough to connect the dots.
Also, for people who decided to explore and get the Dragon Tear memories before entering any dungeon. There is very little change of dialogue, suddenly the game strangely punishes you by not letting the npcs acknowledge what you just discovered. While it's not an actual in-game punishment, you're stuck with characters asking a million questions that you already know of. Suddenly, the game's freedom to do whatever you want gets put to a halt because you decide to have the freedom to experience the story however you'd like.
NOW I get to move the part that I’ve been waiting (dreading) for!!
Lore
Sheikah Tech…I don’t care how simple the explanation is on why they are gone. It is probably the dumbest explanation I’ve seen. The fact that it wasn’t even questioned in-game and by the developers baffles my mind. How does it vanish in thin air? Their explanation is that the Calamity no longer exists doesn’t make sense to me either. The Sheikah tech has been there for more than 10k years but only in a dormant state. I don’t want to ask any more questions, or I’ll be here all day, but it drives me up a wall how the lore of the Sheikah got shafted to the side for the new stone technology aesthetic. Speaking of which-
Zonai in general. The fact that WE DONT EVEN GET LORE from the Zonais aside from being viewed as gods is sooooo ughhhhh I wish there was more. Why are there two remaining Zonais? (This probably got answered tbh but idc to look) Who’s the ancient hero and how come he looks like a Zonai or just in fact a different race we’ve never seen before?
Draconification…god. I have many thoughts and also many thoughts about the secret stones. It is an idea that I find interesting and could’ve worked for me. If it didn’t contradict itself in many aspects, as in how becoming a dragon, you will lose your sense of self. I think it would be a nice foreshadowing of the fate Zelda could’ve had. I think making the other dragons take a role in that and expand on it would’ve worked. Idk I think instead of implying it, it could’ve been expanded and shown a lot more severity of the situation.
Apparently I don’t got much on lore, but you know what I got much of????
STORY
This one is going to be a FAT one so bear with me. God where do I even begin here, I'm going completely omit the part where the game feels like it’s gaslighting you through the npcs cause I feel like everyone knows that.
My biggest frustration with this game is that it has such interesting story concepts and cinematic moments. But I can’t but feel like these moments were there first, and everything else was built around it. However, whatever suspicion I feel about how they created this story, only to my shock and horror that there isn’t a credited group of people in the credits, only an outside team (company?). Before I continue, I think it’s dumb when people say TLoZ didn’t have much of a story when previous Zelda games had a storyline to follow (OoT, MM, WW, TP, fucking…even Link’s Awakening, and more). So yes, TLoZ does have stories. It’s not just about the dungeons if I'm being honest.
What I find so odd is that Monolith Soft has games such as the Xenoblade games, where the latest game of that series does have a credited team of writers. Hell, BotW had two credited writers. But I won't go far speculating why they decided to hire a company outside the team to write TotK; it is only interesting to me why they did that. Since there really isn't a solid team of writers, I will focus my issues on Fujibayashi as a story writer; after all, he is the director of this game. And I've seen multiple interviews after the game's release where he explains a lot of the game's "lore" and story that should've been easily explained in the game in the first place. I think this will be me sharing my opinions rather than critiques... boy where do I even begin...
Sages—the ancient sages, not counting Mineru, are pointless. I felt no connection seeing the Ancient Sages meet their predecessors. Can't believe Age of Calamity made me feel more strongly about the Champions meeting their predecessors than the ancient sages did. - I also think they really don't share anything important. Maybe the first time, yes, but you could easily remove their cutscenes and just have Mineru explain how everything went down, and nothing will change. - Now, to the present Sages, I can't really say much, sadly. Tulin and Yunobo were the only characters for whom I completed their quests, and I enjoyed their character arcs, especially Yunobo's. If I could pick up TotK again, I would try to do Riju's arc, as it seemed really fun to play from the playthroughs I've seen my friends do. I don't really care for Sidon. Before I dropped the game, I was going through his quest and got really irritated fast for many reasons that I have mentioned here previously.
King Rauru and Queen Sonia – There has never been a character that I've enjoyed where I think they deserved much better than what they were there for. I get it; Sonia was only there as the character to be killed off to move the plot forward, but oh my god...I could've saved her. I wished we could've seen her more involved in the story than just standing by Raruru's side. - King Rauru, my brain turns foggy when I think of this man, and sometimes there are too many words to explain my issues. But to water it down, I feel we centered ourselves too much on these characters who don't even affect the main protagonist to some degree. Sure, King Rauru first appears at the beginning to show you his magic hand abilities. But I guess I was hoping something like how the previous TLoZ games had your companion help you throughout your journey and are the key fact of many things in the story (Midna and KotRL appear in my head when I mention this).
Zelda—sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I think this game would've been 10x better if she had been the protagonist. I know it probably wouldn't make sense because she turns into a dragon by the end but Idc. What frustrates me about Zelda is that she's given very few options. It's a war or nothing. It's becoming a dragon or being stuck in the past forever. I guess that's the tragedy of her story, but instead of me feeling sad, it frustrates me.
Link—Oh god, here we go. Link has a very small role in this, and you can disagree with me. But how is it possible that this is one of the few Links that has little involvement in the story? Link just happened to stumble into a bigger mystery than it already was. Link didn't even prove himself to Ganondorf why he's a threat to him aside from the first cutscene and Rauru.
Ganondorf - .........I hope this is the last time we see Ganondorf in the series. I know that sounds shocking, but if Fujibayashi is going to take the lead in storytelling for future games, I don't want him to make another iteration of Ganondorf. To me, Fujibayashi works better by making completely new Zelda villains. Ghirahim and Kohga are perfect examples. Ganondorf in this game was so underwhelming and disappointing. He never directly confronted himself with either Link or Zelda. Gameplay wise, he's great, but the story? What is he doing here? Literally, it feels like they only brought Ganondorf back because people questioned about Ganondorf back in BotW.
Conclusion
There are many aspects of the game that I enjoy; however, in my case, the bad outweighs the good. That's why this game frustrates me: There was a lot of potential to be seen. There is probably more for me to say that I'm either intentionally leaving out or just forgetting cause there are many things. Happy one year TotK 🎉🎉🎉
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Unknown - Ep 11 - That Scene
The opening scene of episode 11 landed differently for me than it did for others. I was going to just keep it to myself since I have a minority opinion, but when I rewatched it last night I fell even more in love with it!
The structure!! It's so good! Let me explain.
At the bottom of the stairs, Qian hesitates. He still hasn't made up his mind.
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Yuan says "Do you still not get it?" He knows what Qian is feeling, even if Qian hasn't figured it out yet. So he says what he wants very clearly.
Yuan asks for permission to do 4 things:
1. Be more than just Qian's brother.
2. Be who Qian relies on when he's down.
3. Be someone Qian can talk to about anything.
4. Be with Qian for the rest of his life.
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Before Qian answers, he revisits 4 sets of memories, each set answering one of Yuan's questions with a resounding YES.
After each affirmative answer, it cuts back to the sex scene to communicate that THIS is the culmination of all those yesses.
In other words, there are 4 direct questions and 4 groups of memories that hold the answers to those questions, 4 times those memories scream the answer is YES, and 4 cuts to a bit of sex.
Let's look at the groups of memories.
1. He thinks back to Yuan's words in ep 9. Does he not want Yuan? Or does he not DARE to want Yuan? And he remembers all the times he felt desire for Yuan, but suppressed it. Can he be more than just Yuan's brother? Yes.
2. He thinks back to Yuan consistently being someone Qian can rely on, all through his childhood until now. "If the world falls down, we'll hold it up together." "You won't be alone." "I like being around you." Yuan genuinely likes being around Qian and has never wanted to leave him. He's shown his commitment to Qian time and time again. Can Qian rely on Yuan when he's down? Yes.
3. He remembers how long and hard Yuan suffered while enduring one-sided love, and that Yuan chose to suffer in quiet for years rather than confess to Qian about it. But Qian knew Yuan was suffering that whole time and hated it. It broke Qian's heart to see how hard it was for Yuan. If he did likewise and didn't talk about things, he'd also break the heart of the person who loves him because of his silence. Yuan laid himself bare and told Qian everything. Can Qian reciprocate and tell Yuan about everything in his life, even the hard things? Yes.
4. He thinks about how Yuan has ALREADY built his entire life around Qian. "I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian." Memories of Yuan come like a flood, rapidly gaining momentum. Yuan has already been with Qian for most of his life, and will NOT STOP. Qian can't imagine a life without Yuan. So can Yuan be with Qian for the rest of his life? Yes.
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Qian nods and says his answer aloud: You can. And then they kiss.
The sex is not the point. It's the culmination. It's all the yesses stacked on top each other until they break the last of Qian's walls. By cutting the sex so it only exists between each resounding YES, they've made it less about the action of it and more about Qian realizing that YES, they're ALREADY in love and unalterably committed to each other. Why not give in to his physical desires when the rest is so clear?
Others watched this and saw a sex scene interrupted by cumbersome flashbacks. I watched this and saw a dramatic feelings realization interrupted by snippets of quite lovely sex that drove those feelings home.
A final note: It's probably because I'm demisexual, but I am frequently unmoved by sex scenes, especially when they do not advance the plot or the character development. This onscreen scene moved me. It hit the right emotional note. It was focused primarily on Qian's pov (his face is the one the camera is focusing on). And it was artfully done, instead of merely being titillating.
I'm tagging a few people who I recall talking about this in their posts, but it's been a couple of weeks so forgive me if I leave someone out or misremember. @absolutebl @lurkingshan @bengiyo @wen-kexing-apologist @wanderlust-in-my-soul @twig-tea
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babygirlbenji · 3 days
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Prince Charming - Mason Mount
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a/n i feel like i've used this gif before but i do not care! i'm off to a wedding so wanted to get this out! enjoy mwah <3
summary: just some fluff with mason and reader who is sick!
You hated being sick. 
The cough that had been racking your body for the last few days had reduced you to talking in croaky whispers, your whole body ached, you had no energy and all you could do if you weren’t sleeping was watching repeats of Friends. 
What made it even worse was that Mason wasn’t there to look after you and give you the love you so desperately needed to heal. He was in Manchester and you were stuck in London. To add insult to injury, you had planned to take the train up to the north west to see him and watch his game against Liverpool. You’d had to message him the day before, saying you weren’t going to be able to come up. He wanted nothing more than to look after his girl, but Ten Hag had been adamant that Mason would at least be on the bench for the game, if not in the starting lineup. 
It was just an all round bad situation. A long distance relationship was not necessarily what you signed up for, but you loved Mason more than anything in the world. You were both determined to make it work. 
On Friday night, you were tapping through your Instagram stories, looking at all your friends going out and celebrating the end of the working week. You sighed, which obviously turned into a coughing fit. With nothing else to do, you turned off the lights and curled up in bed, hoping that by morning, you would feel better and be able to watch Mason play. 
Or at least that was your plan. This plan was scuppered by your phone lighting up with Mason’s picture as he rang for a FaceTime. You shoved a hoodie on and ran your fingers through your hair in the hopes it would make you a little bit more presentable, before flicking the lamp by your bed on so you could speak to him. 
‘H-Hello,’ you croaked. His face was slightly pixelated through the dodgy WiFi in the hotel he was staying in, but he still managed to look like he’d walked off a Vogue shoot. Damn him, you thought to yourself. 
‘Hey sweet thing, how are you doing?’ Just the sound of his voice was enough to perk you up a bit, and you sat up. 
‘I’m… I’m okay, just tired and got this stupid bloody cold that’s had me bed bound the last two days. How are you?’ You could barely stifle the yawn that crept out of your mouth without any warning. 
‘Oh darling, I’m okay, just called because I’m worried about you, I’ve hardly heard from you the last couple of days and wanted to check in.’ Your heart swelled. You’d been together over two years, but he was still finding ways to make your dreams come true. He really was your Prince Charming. ‘I won’t keep you long as I know you’re sick, just wanted to say I love you and I miss you.’ 
The emotions you’d been feeling over the last couple of days boiled over, and your face crumpled as tears leaked from your eyes. 
‘I really, really miss you, Mase,’ you sobbed. ‘I feel awful, I can’t do any work, I haven’t seen you in like a fortnight, everyone’s going out and enjoying the sun while I’m stuck here on my own with not even Ben or Reece to keep me company as they’re in Timbuktu or something.’ Mason couldn’t help but chuckle at your melodramatics; Ben and Reece were not in Timbuktu, they were in fact in Southampton for their away game. He didn’t have the heart to mention this, though. 
‘I’m sorry, baby, I really am, I wish I could be there to help. Just focus on resting and getting better, okay? I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve finished this game, I promise.’ You sighed. You knew he couldn’t help being a professional footballer, and he loved playing with United, but you couldn’t help but feel like part of your soul went wherever he went. 
You chatted a bit more, or rather, he chatted while you listened to him, before he bade you goodnight and you were once again left with nothing but the sound of your fan blowing cool air on you to stop your fever spiking too high. It wasn’t long before your cold and cough medication kicked in, and you were out like a light. 
*
You awoke the next morning feeling like there was someone in your house. Ignoring the fact that your fever had gone and your airways felt clearer than they had in the last few days, you stepped out of bed and grabbed your phone from the bedside table. Fully prepared to call the police, you padded silently down the carpeted staircase and peeked into the kitchen. 
What you saw made another sob fall out of your mouth.
Mason was stood by the stove, wearing a United hoodie and track pants, while stirring something in a pot on the hob which you could only guess to be chicken soup. 
‘Mase?!’ He whirled around and grinned.
‘Hey babe!’ You summoned the energy to run over to him and throw your arms around his neck, relishing the contact of your bodies having been apart for nearly two weeks. 
‘What the hell are you doing here? I thought they wanted you to play?’ He kissed your temple and shrugged.
‘But I wanted to be here with you more. It wasn’t easy but I managed to negotiate it off. After our FaceTime last night I couldn’t be apart from you any longer. I couldn’t have you suffering here by yourself while Ben and Reece are in Timbuktu.’ You giggled at the reference to what you’d said the previous night, and hugged him harder, your head finding its usual spot just under his neck. He wrapped you up in his arms and rubbed your back. 
‘I can’t thank you enough, Masey, it means the world.’ You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.
‘It’s the least I can do for my princess.’ And in that moment, with you curled up against his chest while he stirred chunks of chicken and vegetables in a thick broth, breathing in his glorious scent that could only the scent of home, you had absolutely no doubt in your mind that you really had found your Prince Charming. 
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euryite · 1 day
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Could you please write about first years x really tall reader who is above 6 feet? I'm talking 6'4 - 6'8 🙏🙏🙏 love your writings sm <3
he needs some milk
syn. in which you humble the NRC first years with sheer power (height).
gn!yuu
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ACE TRAPPOLA
he’d probably invite you to the basketball club. sorry but i’m right, i’m the writer here. he would.
if you did join, good for you! you can enjoy your time together. kinda.
if you didn’t, though, i’m sorry for you- because this man will literally ask you everyday. 
outside of that though, he’s—
actually, he’s still not that good.
Ace would say he’s a fair person. He doesn’t do anything wrong, he was never rude; honestly? He’s sure he’s a saint.
You, carrying him on your shoulders, would like to say otherwise.
“Uhm, Ace,” you start, sighing exasperatedly before you continue, “why the heck are you on my shoulders? And why do we need to beat up Deuce?”
Ace scoffs haughtily at you, waving his shoulders and causing you to waver a bit, you weren’t really made for carrying others. 
“I’m on your shoulders because we need to beat up Deuce. We’re gonna intimidate him.” The redhead responds, as if anything he said makes sense.
“Ace, what the hell.”
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DEUCE SPADE
he’s pretty normal about it. perchance. maybe not.
he probably also assumes you’re good at sports. long legs do have that effect on most people, i guess.
it’s not like he’s a short guy, so he doesn’t really need your help with anything.
he likes to think he doesn’t really care about your height, but you know otherwise.
it’s not like the dude would make fun of you— unlike a certain someone—, so you don’t really have to worry.
You find it kinda funny how Deuce always tries to look like he doesn’t have to crane his neck up to see your face. 
Scratch that, it’s really funny. He’s looking up, but his eyes are kinda looking down. What, is he trying to convince himself there isn’t a difference or something?
Actually, yeah, sounds about right.
Another thing you find funny is the fact that somehow, even with your towering height, Deuce is more intimidating than you. It’s not like you really put any effort into being scary, but it was just a little offensive! 
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JACK HOWL
the poor guy experiences culture shock. lol.
he’s been the taller person for, like, most of his life.
imagine his shock when seeing you, a— sorry— rather plain human, being taller. by more than just a little bit.
imagine his shock when he lends his clothes to you, and they don’t even look that big! (unless you’re on the lanky, idia shroud side of tall. but still).
other than a mild and short-lived shock, he just doesn’t really care.
doesn’t seem like the kinda guy to.
you two, together, though? killer combo.
“Uhm.. We said we’re sorry—” the brown-haired 3rd year said, backing up slowly while the two second years behind him quivered— which was funny considering their rugged appearances.
But like, if two people who were well over 6 feet tall just walked up to you in the middle of lunch, demanding you “give grim back his chicken sandwich”, wouldn’t you be pretty scared?!
They didn’t even take it—
“Uhm,” the dark purple haired 2nd year hiding behind the 3rd year squeaks out (sounding very weird considering his deep voice), “I took it. I apologize!”
Oh!
All this, and for a literal chicken sandwich that was, what, 15 madol? That isn’t even expensive!
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EPEL FELMIER
i’d like to apologize to epel in advance because it would actually look so hilarious to see you two together.
it’d be even funnier if, between the two of you, you were the calmer one. 
if you were the babygirl, so to speak.
there’s not much more to say than that the whiplash seeing you two together could kill a small cat.
When you think of a short student in NRC, the first person that usually comes to mind is Epel Felmier.
The boy in question doesn’t appreciate that.
And when you think of a tall student in NRC— well, a lot come to mind but one of the few most prominent is the Ramshackle prefect.
The prefect in question doesn’t really care.
And therein lies the issue. You don’t care about who is tall and who isn’t, but Epel does care. Very much so.
He eventually learns to be fine with being seen around you, though, even if it does mean his own height comes in comparison with yours.
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SEBEK ZIGVOLT
a ‘weak human’.. being around his height? or taller?
culture shock 2.0. i feel so bad for him.
if he were any lesser person, he’d have attempted to recruit you to be a knight.
you’re a weak human, though, so he didn’t. 🤗
be grateful!
are you taller than malleus? you are, right? terrifying.
sebek would ask you to shrink.. sorry, but it’s true.
“WEAK HUMAN!” and just like that, your ears are broken. You don’t even know how you handle him screaming at this volume all the time. You’re dying, Lilia, help.
You look down (scary stuff) to meet his eyes, and he immediately starts talking.
“I’VE NOTICED—“
“Shh, keep it down.”
“Ahem, I’ve noticed that you are taller than the Young Master, so, I humbly request you shrink!”
Man, what the fuck.
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hugmekenobi · 2 days
Text
S3: The Bad Batch (4)
Chapter Four: A Different Approach
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Gif by @azertyrobaz
Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.
Chapter Summary: A reunion may be on the cards sooner than you thought
Masterlist for S1 and S2
<Previous Chapter
Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)
Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, gambling, again we have my interpretation of headspaces, limited use of y/n, fluff and mild angst, discussion of character death, protective reader and Hunter, reader and Crosshair kinda get into it
Word Count: 5.3K
Author's notes: Now we're getting into part of the series where each episode allows for a bit more creative license which I'm very excited about! It starts with the end of this one and I hope y'all like it! Also, with regards to tagging people, I'm only tagging the users who still officially register when I do it. Please, please let me know if you want tagged/for me to try your username again!!
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Sparks flew from the control as Omega did her best to stabilise them, but it was proving to be a rather challenging task. “I could use some help up here! Our comms are down. I can’t contact Hunter!”
From down below in the shuttle, Crosshair was also doing his best to get things under control but the smoke, electrical malfunctions and the persistent screech of the alarm told him that was a very unlikely outcome. He analysed the screen dictating the state of the ship. “That’s not the priority. The ship sustained heavy damage.”
“I can see that.” Omega retorted.
Crosshair made his way back up to the co-pilot’s seat, with Batcher following close behind. “Get the stabilizers back online!”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Immediately after she said that a large spark of electricity crackled from the console and the ship was torn out of hyperspace and spiralled towards the planet ahead.
“We have to land.”
“A little hard to do when nothing’s working.” Omega snapped at him as she fiddled with the steering but to no avail.
The ship entered the atmosphere and started to plummet towards the ground.
Omega pulled hard on the lever to even out the ship as the ground grew ever closer. It was all she could do before it crashed landed and skidded along the surface.
When it finally came to a halt, Omega opened the glass roof to allow them all to get some air and eventually exit the wrecked vehicle. She looked in dismay as the controls fully shut off and the last dying spark flickered. “This will take forever to repair.”
Crosshair exhaled a sore sigh as he got his bearings, but that soreness was soon replaced by irritation as the hound pushed insistently on the back of his chair. “No. there’s no time for that.” The dog’s fussing got too much for him. He stood up to allow her to jump past him and off the shuttle.
“We need to get the nav reader online to extract the coordinates to Tantiss for when we go back.” Omega said, turning to look at him.
He couldn’t understand how she’d only just escaped that hell and was already talking about returning. “We’re not going back.”
“We left the other prisoners behind.”
“And the Empire is going to be searching for this ship and us.” He grabbed the pack with the blasters and hopped out of the shuttle. “We have to move. I scanned a spaceport a few clicks east. We’ll start there.”
Omega followed his example and let him lead the way to the spaceport.
--
With the establishment of the new plan being they would get to the spaceport and sneak onto a shuttle, they acquired their disguises and the two of them blended in with the civilians of the town.
They walked past the various troopers in the town as casually as they could so as not to arouse any unnecessary suspicion.
Omega warily analysed the situation ahead as they reached the spaceport. “It’s too well-guarded. We’ll never slip past all those troopers undetected.”
“I can take out at least half before they know what’s happening.” Crosshair stated confidently.
“Or… or we could try a way that doesn’t involve blaster fire.” Omega countered.
“Like what?” Crosshair asked, his voice filled with doubt.
“Watch and learn.” With that, Omega calmly led the way to the ticket attendant.
“Oh, I can hardly wait.” Crosshair said with a sigh as he followed a few paces behind.
“Hello. We’d like two tickets on the next shuttle please.” Omega requested pleasantly.
“Chain codes?” Came the standard reply from the attendant.
“About that. We lost our chain codes.” Omega said coyly.
“No chain codes, no passage.”
“Right. But you see, a problem for us could be an opportunity for you if, say, you knew of an alternate way of booking passage without a chain code.” She advanced towards the desk.
The attendant leaned forward. “Are you insinuating that I should take bribe?”
“If that’s what you want to call it.” Omega replied, feigning innocence.
“I do. And that could be arranged… for 15,000 credits.”
Omega’s composure slipped slightly upon hearing that price, “For two tickets?” She exclaimed.
“Per ticket. And it’s non-negotiable. You’re lucky I’m not charging extra for the creature.”
“Where do you expect is to get 30,000 credits?”
“Sounds like a you problem. Don’t come back without the credits.” The attendant waved a hand in dismissal.
Omega hung her head in defeat and left the port with Crosshair.
“Well, that went well.” Crosshair remarked sarcastically.
“Stow it.” Omega grumbled.
--
“Storming the spaceport would be easier than finding 30,000 credits.” Crosshair hissed as they aimlessly wandered the streets of the town.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Don’t be naïve. Every second we’re here, we’re at risk.”
They came to a stop outside a bar.
“The quite wasting time complaining.” Omega argued before two troopers exited the bar and they both averted their gaze, but the opening of the door had given Omega another idea. “I think I know how we can make some fast credits.”
“Of course you do.” Crosshair mumbled as he saw her getting ready to make her way into the bar. The fluttering of a scrappy piece of paper caught under a nearby crate grabbed his eye before he entered, and he came to a sudden stop as he picked it up and saw what- or rather who- was on it.
Omega noticed he had stopped and when she turned back to enquire what was wrong, the question died on her lips as she saw what he was looking at. Only half the information on the sheet was news to her, but the rest made her eyes widen in shock. By the looks of things, you had been on your own for the time she’d been on Tantiss and clearly, you’d stopped hiding. And judging by the harsh language and substantial reward offering, the Empire wasn’t too happy about that. Now, not only was there the trouble of how exactly this information would go down between you and Crosshair but she also couldn’t count on the fact that you were back with Hunter and Wrecker. She glanced up at Crosshair and, despite the fact that most of his face was covered, he could not conceal the emotions that flashed behind his eyes. “Oh… um… she- well back when- I’m sure she would’ve told-” She broke off with a sharp breath as she struggled to find the words to say.
“Doesn’t matter.” Crosshair said dismissively, crumpling it up and putting it away before he carried on into the bar. The fact that Omega seemed to already have an idea of what your… situation… gave him enough of a timeline to go off of.
“One thing at a time, right girl?” Omega said with a shaky breath, patting Batcher’s side as the hound nuzzled into her. Putting her mind onto the task at hand, she too entered the bar.
--
The bar itself was relatively busy, especially compared to how Cid’s had usually been, and it gave Omega the chance to study her potential adversaries from their booth by the wall unnoticed.
“That’s your plan? You want to hustle someone?” Crosshair repeated sceptically. What had they taught this kid?
“I’ve done it before, and I prefer to think of it as a temporary requisition of funds.”
“And bet with what? We don’t have anything.”
“They don’t know that.” Omega said with a cheeky grin.
“And if you lose?”
“Well… I guess we’ll be in more trouble.” With that, she made her way to the card table in the middle of the bar and sat across from the Trandoshan and got her performance ready to go.
--
To say that Crosshair was surprised would be an understatement, the kid was winning every hand against the Trandoshan and securing credits within a matter of minutes. Whatever experience she’d gained with the rest of his squad was clearly something to be admired. Although the mental image of Hunter even allowing her to hone such a skill felt very out of place, he was quietly grateful for it right now.
The bar came to a sudden hushed silence as the door opened. Omega heard Crosshair clear his throat in warning and she looked to the entrance to see an Imperial officer flanked by two troopers enter. She studied them carefully but remained at the table as she won the next hand much to the Trandoshan’s disappointment. “I think I’ll quite while I’m ahead.” She said in response to his pleas for another game. Having an Imperial official here complicated matters and it was time she, Crosshair and Batcher left.
“Leaving so soon?”
Omega turned her head to face the officer as he stood by the table.
“You’re in my seat.”
The Trandoshan let out a low snarl before he departed and gave up his seat to the man.
Crosshair tensed as he saw the Imperial sit but Omega waved him back.
“So, you think you’re good at this game?”
Omega replied with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.
“Want to try against a, uh, real opponent?” He suggested to the young girl. “I insist.”
--
“Your mutt don’t seem to like me.” He said as the dog released a series of growls.
“She’s harmless.” Omega said in reply as she organised her cards.
“She’s a distraction. Get rid of her.” He demanded.
Omega signalled to Crosshair to take her out.
Crosshair got to his feet, clicked his tongue, and led Batcher to wait outside.
The Imperial watched them go. “Never seen you or your dad around before.” He commented.
“We’re just passing through.” Omega replied as she watched him flip the next card and the rise in murmurs indicated that both he and the crowd seemed to think her time was up.
“Eh, I’ll admit you’re not bad. But you seem to have misunderstood your enemy.”
Omega only smirked, “Did I?” She placed her cards down and flashed the set of the three Eastern Stars. Game over. “I’ll take those 20,000 credits.” She grew nervous however when his two guards made to approach the table.
He held a hand up to stop them. “I concede. You beat me fair and square.” He gave her the credits. “Nicely played.” He left the table.
The Imperial went back to his men and one of them addressed him.
“Sir. Patrol found a crashed Imperial vessel on the outskirts of town.”
“I wasn’t notified about any shuttles arriving today.” He angled back to look at the two strangers with a newfound sense of suspicion. “Now, hang on a minute.”
Omega gathered the credits in her bag and, now that Crosshair had returned, she got up to leave with him, but the familiar voice of the Imperial stopped them both.
“We’re not done here.” He chuckled coolly. “You haven’t paid your fine.”
“What fine?” Omega asked.
“Gambling’s illegal in these parts.”
“What?” Crosshair snarled as he made to step forward, but Omega’s arm stopped him.
“The law is the law. Now, all you gotta do is pay the fine. And I’ll be on my way.”
“How much?” Omega asked him as she did her best to keep her disgust at bay.
“Ten thousand credits… unless you prefer to be arrested instead.”
Omega got the credits out and handed them over.
“Excellent. Consider your fine paid in full.” He said smugly. “Try and stay out of trouble.” He dipped his cap and left the establishment.
Omega sighed in relief. “Let’s get out of here.”
Crosshair caught her shoulder. “How many credits do we have left?”
Omega checked the bag. “Thirty-five thousand. Enough for two tickets and a little extra.” She made the first move to leave.
--
“Crosshair, where’s Batcher?” Omega asked anxiously as she scanned the area for her companion.
“Oy. You looking for that hound?”
The two of them turned to look at the young boy speaking to them.
“You know where she went?” Omega queried.
“Sure do, but the answer’s gonna cost you. Ten thousand credits.”
The fact that he was a child made no difference, Crosshair sighed and stood intimidatingly over the boy. “I’m getting tired of this.”
“Okay, okay.” The boy backtracked. “Five, but that’s my final offer.”
Omega touched Crosshair’s arm to call him off before she gave the boy the money.
The boy examined the credits before he supplied the information, “That Imperial officer and his troopers snatched the creature and headed for the cargo docks. Down that way.” He pointed. “Nice doing business with ya.” He ran away from them before they could change their mind about the money.
Omega started off in the direction of the docks.
“Omega.”
She angled back to face Crosshair. “You heard him. Batcher’s this way.”
“And the spaceport is that way. Forget the hound. We have to get off this planet.”
“We never would be escaped without Batcher. I’m not leaving her.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“I’m not abandoning her!” Omega angrily tossed the bag of credits at him. “Take the credits. If you wanna go, then go. I’ll find my own way.” She stormed off.
Crosshair watched her go but before he got ready to go his own way, he felt guilt coil in his gut. It was becoming very clear as to the impact she could have on someone and explained why his squad had cared so much for her since he too found himself following her rather than doing the more sensible thing of leaving from the spaceport.
--
“Fine. We’ll do this your way.” Crosshair agreed begrudgingly as he placed the bag down before Omega scaled the gate to the cargo docks herself. “But my skills are being wasted.” He offered his hands as a means to boost her over the top.
Omega gave him a warm smile, “Noted.” With his assistance she was able to climb over the gate with ease.
Crosshair made the quick climb after her and together, they snuck through the docks looking for where Batcher was being kept.
Omega then heard a series of whines and she saw Batcher’s cage. “There’s Batcher.” She signalled to Crosshair before she analysed the situation around her. “Shouldn’t we free the other animals too?”
“Don’t push it.” Crosshair replied.
--
They had managed to covertly make their way around to get better access to the centre console but before they could make a move, that dull voice spoke up.
“I thought you’d come searching for your mutt. Yeah, unfortunately for you, Lau has a very strict pet policy. No license means a hefty fine.”
“How much this time?” Omega asked, pretending to play along as the two of them were swiftly surrounded by troopers.
“How ‘bout you give me all my money back? Credits won’t do you any good when Hemlock shows up.” He saw the shared looked between them. “Oh, did you think I wouldn’t piece it together when I found that crashed shuttle? Nothing gets by me. I run this town.” He drew his own blaster. “So, hand over the credits and surrender.”
Omega sighed, “Alright.” She chucked the bag to the Imperial. “Let’s try things your way.” She murmured to Crosshair.
“Finally.” Crosshair waited until Omega ducked to cover before firing the first shot, but he noticed his hand was still no unsteady and his aim was more compromised than he liked.
Omega used the chaos of the firefight to get to the controls and release all the animals, the resulting stampede thinning out the Imperial forces and reuniting her with Batcher.
“I’ll handle this. Take Batcher, and power up the ship.” Crosshair ordered. He provided her cover fire as she got the ship ready and when he saw a break in the blaster fire, he made his move towards the step.
Once he was on board, Omega got the cargo ship in the air and into the safety of hyperspace.
--
You had remained on the ship to study Tech’s datapad and the various planets and their coordinates whilst the other two dealt with the lead on this particular planet, but its name escaped you- you’d been to so many in this sector already, the names of them were beginning to blur together.
You were doing what you could to try and determine the next, more efficient course of action whilst the others were out but the words and data on the screen were moulding into one pile of unintelligible information. You put the datapad down for a minute and rubbed your eyes as you huffed a tired breath from your lungs. You stretched your neck and adjusted your posture but before you picked the datapad back up, a faint chirping caught your ears.
You swivelled in your chair to see the communications light flashing and you knew you weren’t supposed to be hearing from Echo any time soon. So, when you patched the encrypted message through and untangled it to find coordinates to the moon just outside of Ryloth, you knew there was only one other person who could’ve sent it.
You jumped out of your chair and cleared the steps of the Marauder in one leap before you sprinted to find Hunter and Wrecker.
--
“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked urgently as he saw you come running towards them.
You shook your head as you glanced between them. Your breath was heavy from the running but also from excitement as you said, “It’s Omega.”
--
“Look, I hate to be the one to say it, but what if this message is a trap?” Wrecker broached carefully as the ship flew through hyperspace.
“Who else would know those codes?” You disputed.
“But if the Empire has her…”
“If it’s a trap, then we’ll get out of there but if it is her… we need to be there, Wrecker.” Hunter said as the ship disengaged from hyperspace, and he entered the landing cycle. There was no sign of another ship yet, but he opened the door anyway.
“There’s no one here.” Wrecker murmured, wringing his own hands anxiously.
“Then we wait.” You said calmly though your own heart was pounding.
--
“The Empire will be able to track this vessel. We need to ditch it.” Crosshair advised as he entered the cockpit after getting rid of the hat and face covering that he had donned back in Lau.
“We will. I’m heading to a remote location, and I sent a coded transmission for Hunter and Wrecker and (Y/N) to meet us there.” Omega responded. She only hoped you’d be with them too.
Now that this reunion was approaching ever closer, he found himself unprepared for what was to happen next. “Omega. It’s- it’s been months. You don’t know if they’re still ali-”
“They’ll be there.” Omega interrupted sharply.
The ship exited hyperspace and as she peered out the window, she saw the welcomed sight of the Marauder waiting there.
Omega dashed down the ship’s steps but paused as she saw no immediate sign of any of you.
--
A few hours had passed but there was still no sign of the ship and nerves were starting to get the better of you all.
Hunter had begun pacing the length of the cockpit, you had not stopped fidgeting with your vibroblade and alternated between that and examining the hilt of your lightsaber, and Wrecker was busying himself around the rest of the ship.
You saw the uneasy expression on Hunter’s face, and you pulled yourself together enough to be there for him. You caught his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “Just wait, take a breath. She’ll be here, Hunter. I know it.”
“But-” He broke off as he heard the sound of a ship landing and a whole different type of nerves overtook him.
Wrecker made the first move to look outside and what he saw filled him with pure joy. “Now there’s a sight!”
Take your time. You caressed Hunter’s cheek with a comforting and utterly relieved smile before you ran outside to join Wrecker.
Hunter braced his hands on the back of the pilot’s chair. He needed a minute to gather himself. This was the moment he had been seeking out for months but part of him couldn’t quite believe it was happening.
--
“Wrecker!” Omega cried in relief as she ran towards him and let him pick her up.
“I wasn’t even sure your message was real!” Wrecker said with a happy laugh as he held her close.
“I knew you’d show up.” Omega closed her eyes and let the comfort of his strong hold overtake her.
“We wouldn’t have missed it.”
Omega opened her eyes to the sound of your voice, and she smiled brightly as she saw you standing just behind him.
You knelt down with your arms open as Wrecker lowered her.
Omega fell into your embrace and nuzzled into your shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if- I thought you might’ve been-” She pulled away with a teary sniff.
You tilted your head as you tenderly wiped away the tears that had slid down her cheek and stroked a hand through her hair, the longer length of it a painful reminder of how much time had truly passed. “I’m right here, nothing happened to me.” You didn’t need to worry her about past events right now- that rehashing undoubtedly would come up later- but this current moment was something to be celebrated and not clouded by anything else.
Omega went to clarify what she meant but Wrecker’s words stopped her.
“We crossed the galaxy four times looking for you.” Wrecker revealed, wiping his own tears away.
“Five.”
Omega glanced past you as she heard Hunter’s voice and the sight of him created a feeling of pure elation that she wasn’t sure she would never experience again.
“But you’re the one who found us.” Hunter said with a smile from the doorway of the Marauder.
Omega started to run towards him.
Hunter darted down the steps two at a time and came to his knees as he held his arms out to her.
Your heart swelled and the emotions of the moment got stuck in your throat. That sight had been one you had been waiting to see for quite some time. You sensed and visibly saw how relaxed and content he looked, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.
Wrecker put a friendly arm around your shoulder as you both go to your feet, and he saw your reaction to their reunion. He too felt himself getting caught up in it all. Finally, things were looking up.
“We missed you, kid. We never stopped searching.” Hunter said affectionately and as he tightened his hold on her and felt her reciprocate, for the first time since Ord Mantell, he felt truly at peace. He pulled away but kept his hands on her shoulders, “But how did you escape?”
Omega hesitated before saying, “I had help.”
Hunter looked past her to see… well to see his brother descend the stairs of the ship, but what hit him was far more complicated than the relief he had been experiencing a mere second before.
You all followed his eyes and whatever happiness and lightness that had been surrounding you all immediately vanished and was replaced by a palpable tension as you all faced the clone that walked down the steps.
Your hand automatically came to cover your lightsaber.
Omega gaze darted between you all and she saw the shift in body language as well as the serious and distrusting expressions on all of you. It appeared she may have miscalculated as to how this smoothly this particular reunion would go.
“We can do this now and remain by a ship the Empire will be currently tracking, or we can get out of here.” Crosshair said simply.
Hunter placed a guiding hand on Omega’s back and jutted his head to Crosshair as the rest of you boarded the ship.
Crosshair followed them, with Batcher now close on his heels and the Marauder entered hyperspace once more.
--
Omega stood in the middle of the hallway. None of you had so much as made a sound or really moved since the ship had begun the journey back to Pabu and it was getting rather unbearable. “So… I got a dog! Her name’s Batcher.” Omega said with an uneasy laugh into the dead silence of the ship, but it got no reaction. The four of you continued your standoff with Crosshair positioned down the hall of the ship closest to her room/gun turret and the rest of you closer to the cockpit. All of you had your arms crossed and you, Hunter and Wrecker looked particularly guarded. She took that resulting quiet as her cue to perhaps let you all have it out right now. She took a seat and called Batcher over to sit by her feet and waited.
It was Crosshair who broke the silence first, “Where’s Echo?”
“Working with Rex.” Hunter replied briskly.
Crosshair released a soft hum in acknowledgement before he asked the question that he’d been putting off since he’d deduced it from how Omega had talked to him all those months on Tantiss, “And Tech… he’s- he’s really gone?”
“Yeah. It-” Hunter released a sad sigh, “It was a mission gone wrong and he- he sacrificed himself for us so we could get away. He knew what he was doing but… yes, he’s gone.”
Crosshair’s jaw tightened. He knew exactly what mission Hunter was referring to. “So much for Plan 88.” He couldn’t help but say, the grief and tense situation getting the better of him.
“What?” You remarked with a glare.
“You were supposed to stay hidden.”
“We couldn’t do that.” Wrecker said grimly. “Not when it looked like you were in trouble.”
“We couldn’t leave you behind, Crosshair.” Hunter added quietly, some of the fight leaving him as he recalled the events of Eriadu.
“Why? You never had trouble doing that before.” Crosshair retorted harshly.
“Excuse me?” You growled.
“Hey, it’s okay, don’t-” Hunter came to stand in front of you, but you stepped past him.
You couldn’t help it, the protectiveness that hit you was all you could act on. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to throw your choices back in his face. You were offered a different path, but you decided the Empire was where you wanted to be. And yet, despite all of that, the moment we found out you needed us, there was no real alternative. We never knew what had happened to you, but we didn’t need to. All we knew was that you were in trouble. We all knew the risks of ignoring that plan… Tech knew the risks. Don’t you dare-”
Crosshair wasn’t prepared to explain what happened to him yet, so he kept up with his provocation instead, “You want to talk about risks? What are you playing at staying around with them?”
Hunter and Wrecker both looked sharply towards Crosshair.
Your posture stiffened. “I don’t know what-”
“I may have been out of action but I’m not blind. If the lightsaber on your belt didn’t give it away, the wanted poster I just saw sure as hell did.” Crosshair spat as he flung it towards you.
You unfurled the paper, and your breathing became irregular saw this was one of the more detailed wanted ads that had been circulated. You crumpled it back up and then glanced to Omega who could only offer an apologetic grimace that she couldn’t warn you earlier, “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”
You looked back to the clone, “Crosshair, I-”
“You’re a Jedi and that wasn’t something you felt the need to share?”
“Every day.” You said tightly, “But I couldn’t chance something happening-”
“Well, something’s happened now, hasn’t it?” Crosshair bit back angrily. “Do you have any idea the danger you’ve put us in? Do you even care? You’d be doing us a favour by leaving.”
Even Omega joined Wrecker in shaking her head at him this time.
“Crosshair.” Hunter cautioned as he saw the guilt and shame that flashed across your face as your mask of composure slipped. “She’s not going anywhere. We’ve handled it so far.”
“You don’t know what the Empire is capable or what she is. I read what she’s done, and they won’t stop-”
“We’ve got it handled.” Wrecker repeated again as he noticed the way your shoulders started to heave.
Your jaw clenched. “You weren’t there. You don’t know-”
“I was there on Devaron.” Crosshair snapped. “I was there when you decided to join us. I was there when you decided to spend every day lying about what you are.”
“Crosshair.” Hunter warned again and there was no mistaking the protectiveness in his tone or his stance now.
Crosshair picked up on Hunter’s reaction, but he wasn’t to be dissuaded. “You want to judge my decisions, but you betrayed-”
“You don’t get to talk about betrayal, Crosshair.” Hunter interjected coldly as he came to stand by your side.
You only let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I made my choices in the beginning but when would you have liked me to tell you, Crosshair? On Kaller? But would that have been during or after your attempts to kill the Padawan? Or perhaps you would’ve preferred it on Kamino when Tarkin was there, and you were talking about how great the Empire was and how the Jedi were traitors and what happened to them was justified? Or would you have liked to have a sit down during one of the many occasions you were already actively trying to kill us? Tell me, when should I have entrusted you with this part of me?”
This time he didn’t have a response for you, he just shifted uneasily on his feet and glanced down at the floor.
You continued to speak but there was a distinct sadness to your voice now, “I wished I had been honest with all of you from the start. Truly I do. But after everything that’s happened, I’m glad you’ve only just found out because looking at you now, knowing what I do, I can’t be certain that if you had known what I was on Kaller, that you wouldn’t have tried to kill me too.”
Crosshair went to speak but found that he couldn’t immediately offer the reassurance that was needed.
“You’re our brother, Crosshair, and you’re welcome to stay on Pabu with us but don’t expect any of this to be easy.” Hunter said, placing his hand on your back in support.
“He helped me get out of Tantiss. He’s different now.” Omega remarked quietly.
Wrecker grunted and nodded towards his brother, but you and Hunter made no such moves, instead you both retreated further into the cockpit.
You sat in one of the passenger seats and stared at the paper again as you read the painful reminders of how you’d acted when you’d been separated from them. He’s right, you know.
“No, he’s not.” Hunter disagreed firmly as he knelt before you and untangled the wrinkled piece of paper from your hands. He paid it no attention as he threw it away. He came back and placed his hands on your shoulders as he crouched before you. “Are you alright?”
You breathed deeply and nodded. And you?
Hunter also nodded before he got to his feet and sat in the seat across from you.
--
“So, when did this happen?” Crosshair asked, gesturing to the two of you. The way you both were behaving wasn’t totally different to how things had been in the months before Kaller, but there was a definite shift that marked something more official. There had been a lot he’d missed out on.
“After Tipoca City.” Omega informed him as Batcher eagerly greeted them.
Wrecker enthusiastically petted the hound as he moved closer to Crosshair and Omega. “About time, right?” He added with a hint of humour in his voice, but the stern looks from the two of you had him clearing his throat awkwardly.
Crosshair simply hummed in reply and found himself wondering just quite how difficult things were about to be.
Next Chapter (to be posted)>
Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @nightmonkeysstuff, @arctrooper69
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11rosebunny · 16 hours
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Hiiii, just to say I love your Shishitoren and Bofurin contents, I'm so glad that I found your blog 😊. Personally, I prefer Togame, but your writing of them all is so great ^.^
Could you maybe do a jealous story like them reacting to you beings jealous or just them being jealous/possessive (I love this trope)?
Like Togame and Suo being jealous, just give me life 😂
It's okay if you don't want too no worry ^^❤️
(Sorry if it's not clear. English isn't my first language)
When they are jealous
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—Haruka Sakura, Toma Hiragi, Jo Togame, Hayato Suo
Haruka Sakura
When it comes to someone else taking your attention away, as much as he'd like to convince himself he's chill about it, inside he is jumping around in circles.
For the most part, he's able to control himself and differentiate when you're being just kind and flirting back, so usually, he doesn't mind it if another guy speaks to you in a nicer tone.
However, if he comes to notice that the guy begins to go on a tangent, ultimately speaking a little too much to you than he'd like, starts to grow a bit irritated. Of course he won't go up to the guy and punch him, after all, the person he so happens to be usually jealous of is Nirei.
His face transforms into a small scowl, while trying to shift his eyes away from the scene. At the same time he keeps repeating to himself,
'I don't care I don't care I don't care I don't care.'
Spoiler alert, he does care.
The worst part is, he can not blame the air-headed male for acting like how he acts, when it's literally his personality. So when he witnesses the both of you becoming a little too friendly, the best he will do is force himself into the conversation, regardless if he was even in it or not.
Afterwards when Nirei finally leaves, he waits till he's far enough before launching his body towards yours in a flash.
Toma Hiragi
If you've never seen jealous, then you have now. It's not the usual for Hiragi to explode on sight at another dude that seems to be hitting on you, other than if it was a random guy, then he's surely dragging you away with him to wherever, while cussing out the boy to leave you alone.
But when it comes to people he knows, he's jealous of Umemiya, and not for those reasons. Hiragi is aware that he's best friend simply has an outgoing and extroverted personality, he doesn't blame him whenever he gets a little too close. But jeez does it drive him crazy on the inside.
His mood instantly shifts, but not in way anyone would expect it to go. Rather then blowing up at the grey-haired male, instead, the atmosphere around him grows calmer, almost as if he's trying to avoid its not happening. The tactic for him, is it straight up ignore it by any means possible.
He'll start responding with dryer answers to anyone and spends a hefty amount of time on his phone to get the scene off his mind of Umemiya guiding you with him around the place on the roof top. He might even throw in some earbuds and blast rock music.
Afterwards when you two are back together, you can't tell if he had a scowl on his face while walking away with you by his side.
"Is something the matter?" You asked looking up at him. He doesn't say anything, still too pissed about what happened earlier so instead, he reaches his long arm behind your back to the side of your hip and brings you a bit closer to him without saying another word.
Jo Togame
Whenever he finds himself in a tight situation, specifically in public when a guy that's being friendlier than usual comes by to say hello, he's able to hold himself together very well for the first few minutes.
He even adds himself to the conversation whenever he sees a chance to—purely because he does not want to seem like a loose thread just watching the both of you speak when he's right beside you standing like a weirdo. However, when he starts to take note of how the other guy is getting closer, all up in your face, flat out ignoring whenever your boyfriend chimes in, and worst of all throwing in hints that you two should meet another time, he knows right away.
This is one of the very few times where he finds it extremely hard to keep his cool and usually, he's able to do that.
Seeing that he can't really talk to the guy because he keeps ignoring him, he'll slickly wrap his arm around your shoulder to lean on you or he'll wrap his arm around your waist and at the slightest—pull you closer to him. He stays quiet the entire time, he won't see this situation as such a huge deal where he has to hammer the guy into pieces, but there is a tiny part of him where his ego begins to escape.
He'll never cut your time short simply because he wouldn't want his time to be cut short either, but the most he'll ever do (which is quite intimidating), he will whisper in your ear.
"Are you trying to piss me off?" All while putting a smile on his face.
He only does this when he feels like it's going too far and for him, it works. Hearing his deep voice whisper in your ear to watch what you're doing makes you do a reality check that if Togame really wanted to beat up the guy right in front of you, he would without a doubt.
Hayato Suo
It's extremely hard to make him feel jealous. He knows how to keep his cool and trained himself to never lash out at all, only if something absurd had happened right before his eyes. But aside from that, even if you try to get him jealous, chances are—it's not working.
Even speaking to another guy, spending more time with your friends, or replying late, he will never get jealous or mad at you for that. So what is the only circumstance where he does feel a slight hinge of jealousy?
That is only when you get physical with another guy. He can flirt with you for all he cares and yet, he will never get upset at the sight of the random guy calling you pretty (he might even add on and say "She is, isn't she?") but the moment he sees him trying to lay a finger on you, there's a chance where he'll grip his arm in midair to stop him from touching you.
"I think that's enough yes?" He says while pulling you closer to him and putting the guys arm away.
Afterwards, the whole mood of the conversation changes, in fact he might be the only one who continues his happy go lucky personality and on with the conversation. It's awkward, the way he flat out rejected the guy for you without you even asking. Not to say that you didn't appreciate it, but now it made the other guy uncomfortable which was what Hayato was striving for anyways.
He's pricky whenever someone tries to touch you and the only time where you'll see his attitude changes.
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alatismeni-theitsa · 2 days
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https://x.com/CorenLaVolpe/status/1787971755027612092
As much as a Greek enjoyed the Hades game having people literally taking for granted the designs of the gods as legit is problematic.
No Hermes isn't Asian coded. He's Greek like every God. Literally what does the word Greek next to Greek gods mean to them? An accessory? Give me a break
I got a few asks like this, so I will try to answer them here. This is the post the asks are referring to, and this is the post that started the whole discussion afaik:
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This is a whole phenomenon that has lasted for decades in the US, first with USians presenting the gods as North Europeans and now as "everything but" North Europeans to combat the previous racist trend. However, they are still completely tone-deaf, self-absorbed, and privileged because while they do this "correction" they're ignoring actual Greeks, and Greek depictions (and depictions of Greek gods in various areas in the past). Westerners might not be aware of this, because they don't know how badly the Greeks have been treated by powerful countries in the past (including their US, thank you for the Junta and our recent fighters' deaths, honey) but the protests about the gods' design are anti-colonialist.
I want you to imagine this trend with whatever pantheon you want from Africa, Asia, South America etc. Imagine that for centuries they are presented as super White North Europeans by certain powerful nations. Now the same nation who did this racist shit in the past comes around and does more racist shit, by NOT presenting these ancient gods as their people view/viewed them but they present them as everything BUT the appearance they had in all their depictions by the locals. All the while NEVER listening to what the people of this culture tell them, all the while comparing the locals to these gods and finding them uglier and savage. Why would this be acceptable? And why are people so comfortable to forget their cultural sensitivities when it comes to Greece?
(I am aware the US racism also expanded to other pantheons but it didn't happen in this exact way so all I'm asking is to walk in our shoes for a bit, to experience a different flavour of colonialism)
This blog stands for absolute equality and it's heavily anti-racist and anti-fascist, with various resources and support links for minorities in Greece. Everyone is welcome here. This blog believes that if you are of Chinese, Pakistani, Nigerian, Roma descent in Greece you must have the same rights as everybody else and the way you look is not "lesser" than anybody else. I just ask people to consider - especially if you are an immigrant - how you, your parents, your grandparents would feel when seeing your important cultural figures treated like this by the US.
As you have understood by now, changing the depiction is not suddenly okay when the Greek gods now have the palest skin with blue eyes and blond hair. No, that's still racist, and Greeks have been repeatedly told that they are lesser for not looking like the beauty ideals these northern countries projected onto our gods.
Asking for accurate god depictions is a matter of wanting your culture to be treated like.... not a prop, for once. Everyone is free to interact and relate with the Greek culture but when you take the Greek culture and its depictions out of the equation, then the whole thing becomes "playing with dolls", and a fandom (as is the case already for the US).
The Greek gods have been used by Westerners in the past to promote White supremacy, and today they are used by Westerners to combat it; but it still happens in the most divorced sense from the Greek culture. USians are still sooo hesitant to REALLY look at another culture that they'd rather lose common sense (aka, depict gods as the locals see them for millennia) than not white-knight for their fellow Westerners. It's actually infuriating that progressives in the US still miss the mark when it comes to combating US neo-colonialism, and whatever elements left in their culture from colonizing European countries.
And how can we tell the Greek gods are used as props in this US political climate? Simple. They themselves will tell you "It's okay to depict those gods however you like because 1. They can transform 2. They have been worshipped by people of different appearances 3. Greeks can have more than one appearance 4. They are not real. " Then, you tell them "Then why don't you depict Chinese, Indian, Nigerian pantheons whoever you like today? These pantheons all have the above four conditions apply. (No. 4 depending on your beliefs)" And when you strip those first layers, they tell you the actual root cause: "But Chinese, Indian and Nigerian people are still oppressed. Plus, non-white people need to see themselves in media, so here is the chance!"
So, they admit that their only guide for how disrespectful they will be to one's heritage figures is actually the oppression status of that minority (just!) in the US. (Which shows they still don't give a shit about Greeks, cause otherwise they'd still know that Greeks still face bigotry in the US for how they look, how their names are, their customs) . To POC in the US: The moment your oppressors believe your oppression is gone, expect your pop culture to forget (again) all respect for your ancient gods and treat them like cool "new" products for their capitalist game.
And the above discussion paints the Greek culture and Greek figures as a culture-less empty slate, that can be made to represent every person in the whole world. It's US culture, even! But Greek culture is hideous actually, and the Greeks are racist brutes who get in our hair the whole time. Fuck the Greek people and their ancestors' depictions. Greek mythology is a product of no culture, actually, and we can treat the gods like self-inserts in our favorite fanfic. And this is totally not a colonialist mindset! Greeks are not robbed and genocided anymore, and we gave them "white" status in our country a few decades ago (but these ethnic hairy people are still not the same as us, obviously!), and the strings we pull to control Greece are not visible anymore to our own people, so we're good 😊
And, just to be clear: Greek gods are ethnically Greek, as every other [insert cultural descriptor] gods are from that certain culture. The Greek people consider themselves literal progeny of those gods. The first Greeks were born of the gods. Even today we call ourselves Hellenes because one of the first Greeks, the man Hellen, who was born of the gods. If the Greek gods don't express Greek cultural norms, and POVs, and ways of thinking about the world, and are not part of Greek history, what the hell are part of?? Cantonese culture? Do they represent Scandinavian ancient values perhaps....? Do they follow the philosophy of a First Nations tribe?? (This is more a matter of culture, not appearance since various people can be part of a culture. However, it needs to be said, because Westerners are willfully blind to common sense at this point.)
See this video from a Greek Canadian on Greek gods being ethnically Greek
To address one last thing: One person said "why didn't you say anything about how the gods were designed in the first game?" Well, I had made a post about it but some told me "noo they didn't change their race, they just have different colors like green, blue, pink, dark brown, and grey for an artistic touch". I was like "whatever, nobody knows, I have a life to live" so I deleted that post and didn't dwell too much on it. But the anti-colonialist message was the same as in this post, so that's another chance to highlight it.
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guided2girlhood · 8 hours
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Forcefem Would You Rather - Babysitter
So here's a new thing for you all. I want to know which side you would rather be on. In both caps, you would look like the girl in each pic.
1) You are paid an incredibly generous salary by a wealthy family who desperately want a female babysitter, but you were by far the best option. At a loss, they offer an absurd amount if you'll agree to... change a few things.
2) You have been the babysitter for a week to the daughter of a single dad. He leaves a note for you, making his intentions clear. You put his ex's clothes on, and become Lexi.
Just a bit of fun - no offence intended!
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redroomwidows · 1 day
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'I got one🙋🏻‍♀️ can’t you do Lee Russell x Neal’s younger sister reader? They’re secretly seeing each other behind his back and Neal walked in Lee’s office about to have sex or always having sex…. Up to you ☺️'
notes: everyone loves a good frenemies sister fic. I didn't go fully NSFW with this, it's just a bit steamy, and I made the reader plus-size cos I do what I like lol. Reader is not mentioned to be adopted or biological so view her as you wish. Lee is already divorced from Christine even if it's set at the start of S2!! Christine is a legend and I stand with her.
warnings: making out, inferences to sex, strong language (I mean come on). NSFW! Semi-public sex (they're in an office in a school in the middle of the day lol) Reader smokes and is described as wearing skirts and makeup. Reader is shorter than Lee. Blood mentions. unedited because I'm sleepy. Lee is definitely out if character because he is HARD to write for.
Lee Russell x plus size!fem! reader
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North Jackson High was somewhat of a shit hole. Not a huge one, but there was definitely a mild stain somewhere. Two Principles in two semesters - three if you included the singular day Neal Gamby had walked through the halls - and five English teachers teaching one class in a year. The school was cursed.
That’s what you’d told yourself when you were offered the job as a TA for the next semester of school. Your brother, Neal, had insisted you take it - happy to stop seeing your worried face every day when you visited him at his ex-wife's.
“Look, one Gamby leaves, another enters,”
“That’s bullshit. You’ll be back there in no time,”
He was not, and his newfound friend had practically begged you to join the staff after your interview - you tried to tell yourself it wasn’t because of your brother, or the lowcut top you’d chosen to wear. 
A few weeks into your new job, you found that Lee Russell was rather… eccentric. Loud, and unapologetic, he had a strange aura that had you pulled in, ending up with both of you going for smoke breaks in the forest near the back end of the school, and ending up with your cheeks flushed and skirt askew.
You didn’t expect it to take Lee so long to initiate office sex - he seemed like the type - but he was surprisingly sweet when it came to intimacy. As foul-mouthed as he was, it seemed he genuinely liked you.
It had become somewhat of a ritual, that every Friday during your final free period, you’d find yourself in Lee’s office, either helping him plan for his ‘get the teachers to like me scheme’, or bent over his desk, his cock buried in you.
“Long day?” you ask when you enter his office, shutting the door behind you and starting to pull down the blinds: Lee was sitting at his desk, head in his hands.
“Better now you’re here sweetheart,” he grinned, flashing you his teeth, you hum unbelievably and continue to pull down the rest of the blinds, before you can turn to him, Lee has stood up against you, his hands snaking over your curves and to rest over your stomach.
“Lee,” you warn gently, his lips starting to kiss along the right hand side of your neck “You gotta lock the door,”
“I’m just playin’,” he mutters, but there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, you smile, and let your head fall back onto his shoulder “I spoke with Neal today,” he starts
“Can we not talk about my brother whilst you’re trying to get into my pants?” 
“Yes ma’am,” he smirks and spins you around, playfully pushing you behind his desk, you let out a soft giggle and lean by the centre of it as he approaches, swaying his hips dramatically before grabbing your face in his hands and pressing a long kiss to your lips.
He pulls away to breathe for a moment and you notice his eyes staying on yours “Hi,”
“Hi,” you giggle “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to see that pretty smile of yours,” that makes you smile more, and he leans in for another kiss, helping you to sit on his desk before his hands rest on your spread thighs to steady himself, he squeezes gently and runs his hand up closer to your clothed core. The small moan you let out allows him to slip his tongue inside, and your arms wrap around his neck, Lee pulls away, smudging your lipstick over your chin, and he returns to your neck, lightly nipping at it.
“Lee,” you moan out “I can’t go out there with hicky’s all over me,”
“I’ll be gentle,”
“You’ve never been before,” Lee lets out a huff of laughter that sends tingles down your spine, he breaths into you ear and speaks lowly
“Never complained before doll,” 
“Oh, just fuck me,” you sigh, the foreplay already had you near soaked, and although it was only an hour ‘till the bell rang for the end of the day, you were desperate.
Lee hooks his pinky finger under your chin, tilting your head to look at him “Who’s the principle here darlin’?”
“You,” you breathe out and he grins, his other hand cupping at your sex before he drops your chin and goes to unbutton your trousers, he looks down.
“Jeans really? Miss Gamby, that violates our dress code,” he tuts
“You gonna write me up Mr. Russell?” he groans at that and leans his head back 
“Oh you know just how to get a man rock hard darlin’” he presses his lips to yours again, and reopens your thighs, this time actually unzipping your jeans and attempting to pull them down. Your own hands keep themselves busy, unbuckling his belt, and slipping a hand down his trousers to palm at his underwear - he really was rock hard.
“Just been waintin’ to ravish you here,” he mutters, biting at your neck again “Wanna show all those cunts who’s boss,” you use your right hand to make him look up again, leaning in for a harsher kiss, biting at his bottom lip, he groans, tasting his own blood slightly. You two become too lost in your own lust too hear the office door open.
“Jesus Christ!”
“Shit!” you pull back, and turn around quickly, seeing your older brother standing there, jaw on the floor, he slams the door shut.
“What the hell Russell?! You’re fucking my sister?!”
Lee backs away quickly as you wipe the lipstick from your chin, staring to rezip your jeans.
“Well we hadn't quite got to that bit yet, and sometimes she fucks me,”
“Lee!” you scold, he puts his hands up in surrender - causing his trousers to drop down, showing only his underwear “Oh lord,”
“You wear briefs?” Neal questions
“Stop looking at my dick!” Lee exclaims
“You’re practically shoving it in my face!”
“Boys!” you jumps off the desk “Let-”
“Oh, you’re not in the clear here either missy!”
“Missy?! I’m a grown woman!”
“Who’s fucking her boss!” Neal shouts
“Do you want the whole school to know?!”
“I do,” Lee raises his hand
“Not now,”
“And we’re not just fucking Neal, we’re in a loving committed relationship,” Lee places his right hand on your waist and pulls you closer, you look down.
“Your dick’s poking me,” you say bluntly and Neal covers his eyes - finally.
“Pull your pants up Russell, you,” he points “I’m taking you home,”
“I’m technically on the clock…”
“So you’ll fuck him but not go home?”
“Yep,” you nod confidently “Look Neal, I get this is hard - Lee’s your closest friend,”
“He is not -”
“I’m not that fucker’s best friend,”
“I didn’t say best friend did I?! You’re close, okay! And I’m your sister, maybe of you read a book you’d know this happens a lot,”
“What?”
“Ask Amanda, she writes Y/A novels…”
“Getting off track darlin’,” Lee nudges
“Right! Anyway, I like Lee, and I can do whatever the hell I want! So get the hell out so he can bend me over this desk ,”
“Ew!”.
“That’s my girl,”. 
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