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kpopnstarwars · 4 months

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Second Chance: Jeong Yunho x Reader

A/N: i honestly feel like i went through multiple divorces writing this (also i have never written a standalone fic this long, like this is double the longest fic i've ever written, but it's huge like yunho so what can i say)

tw: alcohol, swearing, HUGE angst, eventual fluff, people are drunk, there's a party (yes that deserves a warning), gets a little smutty at the end, mention of marriage (twice), could be kinda ooc near the beginning because i started writing this within a month of stanning

wc: 5.3k

The second you step through the doorway, you're already regretting conceding so easily to Wooyoung. He's got his nagging technique perfected - you'd probably be curled up on your sofa binging your favourite movies, surrounded with snacks and fluffy blankets and the comforts of your own home if he wasn't nearly as persuasive as he is.

Instead, here you are, at a party you're not very... invested in, half sulking as San welcomes you in, wishing you were at home, watching the Star Wars prequels back to back with Seonghwa.

San is already half drunk. It's easy to tell; his face and the tips of his ears are blushed a rosy pink, and he's giggling at nothing in particular as he hangs off your shoulders, clinging onto your shirt as if he'll lose you in his own semi-crowded living room. You anticipate another five minutes of clingy San, punctuated by tipsy zoomies, before the alcohol he had (probably just a few shots, to be honest) kicks in, and he begins to feel sleepy. With practiced ease - yes, you've done this many times before - you steer him towards the sofa, grinning at Yeosang as you dump San next to him.

'Nooo...' San mumbles. 'Where are you... where...' You pat his shoulder. 'I'm not leaving yet, don't worry. Yeosang will look after you.'

Retreating into the small crowd before said man can protest at this forced role of caretaker, you wade your way over to Seonghwa and Hongjoong; greeting both, you have a quick exchange about the former's outfit - one he altered himself - before briefly summarising your wishes about watching Star Wars with the latter. In response, he nods sympathetically, but you can tell he's got his eyes fixed on a girl somewhere over your shoulder, so you move on quickly, searching for Wooyoung. Vaguely, you spot Mingi towering over almost everyone in the corner, but knowing that the one person you're trying to avoid today may be with him, you look away before your eyes seize the chance to find him.

'Look who showed up!' A voice crows behind you. You turn around, rolling your eyes. 'And whose fault is that, Woo?' 'He's looking out for you,' Jongho tells you, appearing beside Wooyoung. 'Maybe you needed to get out of the house and - ' 'And talk to you-know-who,' Wooyoung finishes. 'No,' you snap. 'Absolutely not.' He pats your head. 'Here, have a drink. Maybe after it you'll be more open to the idea.' Reluctantly, you take the cup from him. 'Thanks, I guess.'

Wooyoung and Jongho begin talking about some trend on TikTok that they're planning on roping Mingi into doing with them - in truth, it doesn't quite capure your attention as much as the tall, achingly familiar silhouette across the room does. Before you can stop it, your gaze snags on him, on the angles of his jaw and his elbows, on the curving slope of his shoulders. Inhaling sharply, you quickly look away.

And then you glance over at him again.

Just once, and just long enough to see if he's with anyone.

If he's with a girl.

You know he's perfectly capable of it. You know many people at this party who wouldn't say no to him, even if they knew it was just a rebound. You tell yourself you wouldn't really care, it wouldn't really bother you, but it would. Especially if it was her. Somewhere deep inside you, he's still yours; yours to covet, yours to touch and kiss and love.

But he's not, and he brought that upon himself.

'Hey,' Wooyoung says, waving a hand in front of your face. 'You in there?' You smack his hand away. 'I wish I wasn't.' Jongho raises his eyebrows. 'You should just talk to him, if it's bothering you that badly. It's almost been three weeks, you know.' 'Or if you don't want to talk, you can get as drunk as San,' Wooyoung adds helpfully. 'You would definitely forget everything. I don't think our Sannie even knows his own name right now.' You glance down at your cup, and your stomach twists. 'No thanks.'

Wooyoung wraps an arm around you and squeezes you tightly, smiling sadly. You know he just wants you to cheer up, and this realisation makes you painfully aware of the way you're ruining the mood, of the pity in your friends' eyes as they look at you, of the stifling press of bodies that aren't even that close to you. Handing your drink to Jongho, you tell them that you're heading to the toilet.

You take the long way around San's living room. It's partly to avoid the area that you know he is in, and partly because you can feel Mingi's eyes boring into the side of you head. Skirting around the sofa - which is somehow crammed with triple the amount of people it's designed to fit - you wave at Yeosang, who's glaring at you from where he's half squashed under San. In the bathroom, it's a lot quieter, the thumping bass from Hongjoong's playlist and the hum of voices muffled by the closed door. You glance at yourself at the mirror; you're confronted with your own slightly downturned mouth.

Well, you promised Wooyoung you'd come, not that you'd be happy about it.

After a few minutes, you deem it time for you to emerge again. Schooling your features into something a little more cheerful, you step out of the bathroom, only to be ambushed by the one and only Song Mingi. You sigh. You know what he's here to say, you know he's your friend and he means well, but still, you can't help but feel the beginnings of annoyance bubble up within you. Immediately, you push it down. None of it was Mingi's fault.

'Hi, Mingi,' you say, unable to erase the hint of tiredness in your tone. 'How are you?' He asks, concern bleeding into his features. 'I'm doing alright,' you reply, knowing he sees through you easily enough. 'Haven't been sleeping too well, though.' Scratching the back of his head, he looks at you apologetically. 'Look, you know what I'm going to say.' You sigh. 'Go on.' 'You're both my friends,' he sighs. 'It sucks to see you both sad. Yunho's been beating himself up about it for weeks, ever since it happened, and... I know you miss him too. Please, just give him a second chance.'

You blink. It's the first time someone's mentioned him by name tonight, and the pain wells up in you again, fresh and cutting, ripping away the hazy walls of apathy that you'd struggled so hard to build around yourself. Maybe it's fitting that Mingi is the one who causes them to crumble; before everything went to hell with Yunho, it was always you three who hung out together the most, who relied on each other and supported each other, no matter what. It was the closest thing to perfect you've had in your life.

Then Yunho had to ruin it.

He was too heavy handed when he had your heart in his grasp, he was too careless with the trust you'd put in him. Of course you miss him, of course it hurt when you tore him out from he'd been embedded in your life, nestled into the softest part of you heart. Of course you hate avoiding him, but you hate how you let him hurt you more. You refuse to let him in again, just to make the same mistake.

Slowly, you shake your head. Swallowing around the bitterness on your tongue, you look up at Mingi, a deep sadness springing up inside you at the despondency in his eyes. Your voice sounds disembodied, the words far away as you speak.

'I'm sorry, Mingi. I don't think I can do that.'

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After your talk with Mingi, you begin to see getting as drunk as San in a more favourable light. You let Wooyoung shove exactly two shots down your gullet before you realise that tonight, alcohol isn't going to help you; the shots are acrid in your throat, and the deep throb of the bass - which you normally enjoy - is beginning to give you a headache. Defeated and deflated like a rather morose balloon, you tell Jongho that you're going to get a glass of water.

You realise you've misplayed as soon as you step into the kitchen.

He's there.

Yunho.

Digging your nails into your palms, you jerk your head aprubtly to the side to avoid his eyes as they search for yours. There's no way you're backing out of the kitchen because he's here, there's no way you're so weak that you can't stand the sight of him. Determined, you turn your back to him, reaching into the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it up and sipping at the water. You can feel his eyes burning into your back, and this time you can't help yourself.

A glance over your shoulder is all it takes for the sudden onslaught of memories. Months of dates and years of friendship flash before you, tugging your heart this way and that. He stands there, propped against the counter, his brown eyes anchored on you, his lips half parted as if he's about to speak, and all you can see in him is scene after bittersweet scene: Yunho holding your waist in a crowd, Yunho dancing with you around the living room at two in the morning, Yunho making you laugh until you can't breathe, Yunho holding you tight as you cry, Yunho with his pretty lips on yours, Yunho with his beautiful hands on your body, Yunho telling you that he loves you, Yunho, Yunho, Yunho.

And then it's Yunho, bathed in morning light as he lies in bed beside you, his features serious and solemn and deceptively honest as he tells you the sweetest words you've ever heard in your life.

Finally, it's Yunho the traitor, seen across a crowded, badly lit club on the same day, Mingi beside him, disbelieving as he gapes at your boyfriend kissing a girl, a girl who is not you, who could not even be mistaken for you. You've replayed the scene many times in your head, the way he looked up, catching your eyes as you turned to walk away. He caught up with you in the street, and you had the worst arguement of your life in a seedy, dark alleyway, refusing to let him touch you as you cradled the broken pieces of your heart to your chest - it was no longer his to have.

Looking at him now, he looks different; like your Yunho, but tired. There are bags under his eyes - at least you aren't the only one losing sleep - and his hands clench and unclench at his sides, his jaw working as he searches for words. Carefully, you set your glass down on the counter, crossing your arms.

'I...' He starts, but trails off.

Something ignites in your chest as you watch him fumble over words, stumbling over unfinished sentences. Anger burns bright inside you, a potent mix of frustration and longing and bitter sorrow welling up like poison, making you want to hurt him like he hurt you, demanding retribution. All you can see his lips on hers, and it fucking stings.

'Why are you talking to me?' You ask lowly, voice frosty. Yunho takes a step closer. 'I - I'm sorry. I miss you - so fucking much. I want you back, I need you. I just wish I could make it right so we could - ' 'If you want me back so badly, why did you kiss her?' You hiss. 'Did you forget about me in that moment? Or did you just not care?' He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. 'I, I know I fucked up, badly, and - '

You scoff. You're too angry, too raw, to care about the anguish on his face. He doesn't understand: he doesn't understand that he broke your trust and your heart and you, he doesn't understand that his apology is too late - it was late the moment he touched that girl.

'Fucked up badly?' You snap, incredulous. 'Just badly? Do you remember what you said that morning, on the very same day, while we were still in bed? Do you remember what you told me? You said that you were really serious. You said that one day you were going to marry me. Do you know how happy I was, thinking that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me?' You throw your hands up in the air. 'Well, I guess it was all a shitty lie.'

Yunho staggers back as if you actually punched him. His eyes are wounded as they search yours, and he steadies himself against the counter, gripping it so hard his knuckles bleed white. Clenching his jaw, he stares at you, speechless, and you know that you succeeded in your mission to hurt him. It doesn't feel as good as you thought it would.

Then, the kitchen door swings open.

A swell of music spills inside, along with a very tipsy looking girl. Laughter floats through from the living room. Both you and Yunho just look at her, forgetting that you were arguing in San's kitchen, at a party, and she returns your gazes, bewildered as she looks between the two of you.

'Uh, sorry, I didn't know I was interrupting something. I'll, I'll come back later?' You force yourself to smile, despite it being the expression your features least want to make right now, your voice surprisingly steady. 'Don't worry, you're alright, come in. We should probably go somewhere else.' 'Yeah,' she mumbles, quickly retreating and firmly shutting the door despite your words.

You glance over to Yunho. His hands are shaking as he lifts them, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, and all the fight leaves you at the sight. For all the years you've known him, he's cried maybe four or five times. Your stomach churns with guilt. You caused his tears.

'Hey,' you say softly. 'Do you want to go somewhere more private?' He nods, his voice thick when he speaks. 'Y - yeah, my car's two minutes away. It's in the multi-storey car park.' 'Okay,' you sigh. 'Let's go.'

He's silent as you rinse out your glass and put it on the dish rack, wiping your hands on your trousers. Ducking your head, you weave your way to the front door, slipping past Wooyoung and avoiding Yeosang and Mingi's eyes as they stare at you, surprise evident in their features as they spot Yunho trailing you. You don't want to consider what they must be thinking at the look on his face. There's no chance that they won't miss the pain in his expression, and you feel sick, burdened with the knowledge that you were petty enough to sharpen your words to deadly points and wield them like weapons.

You remain silent as you walk with him to the car park - he doesn't keep in step with you, instead hovering a few paces behind. The quiet swallows you whole, smothering any rage left in your system, and you hold the lift for him, retreating to the opposite corner as he reaches out to press the button for the top floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you study him in the scratched mirror. Although you don't dare look up at his face, you can feel his gaze, and a lump forms in the back of your throat, thinking of how many times you've been tucked under his arm in the lift to his apartment, his long fingers stroking down your side.

Harshly, you swallow, reminding yourself that you can't let him in.

You can't open your heart, just for it to be broken again.

Despite this, you find your gaze straying over his reflection. He must have left his jacket at San's, because all he has on is his black t-shirt and jeans, the former of which is slightly damp down the front - someone probably spilt their drink on him, and the fabric clings to his skin in a way that makes you yearn to press him against the wall and kiss him until you're both dizzy. One of his hands is shoved in his jeans pockets; you desperately wish that you could slip your fingers in with his, just to feel his warmth and his skin against yours. Even under the crappy lift lights, he's beautiful, as beautiful as ever. It's how you've always seen him, how you always will.

The top floor of the car park is open, and during the time you were in the lift, it's begun to rain. You begin shivering, and out of your peripheral, you see Yunho lift his hand before he pulls it back quickly, as if he was going to reach out to you and tug you close before he thought better of it. His car is the only one there, seeing as it's well into the night, and he unlocks it as you walk towards it. Hesitating with your fingers on the passenger door handle, you pause, debating with yourself - he hovers on the driver's side, watching as you deliberate before choosing the backseat.

You don't want to admit it, but you want to be closer to him.

Within seconds, you're sitting next to him in the back of his car, and you're faced with the looming need to pick up your disaster of a conversation where you left off; raising your eyes to find his, relief washes through you to find them steady, the emotions in them whirling and a total mess, but not too overwhelming. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself to ask the question that's been on the tip of your tongue all night. You tell yourself that you can do this, that you can pretend this doesn't hurt as much as it does, but it's quickly proven a lie when your voice comes out weak and smaller than you'd like.

'Why - why did you do it?'

A haunted look enters his eyes as he scrubs a hand over his face.'I... I don't know. She pulled me down, and I just didn't move, I just let her, because it was nice to feel wanted - ' His voice cracks. ' - even though you had always given me so much more than that. You loved me and I fucked it up. I took you for granted and - '

Harshly, he swallows, cutting himself off. His words are rushed, tight, his hands fisted in his lap as he looks away for a second, breaking eye contact and staring out into the car park as he steels himself. You're reeling from his words, from the painful honesty that laces them, like poison on a blade. There's no doubt that, even with your walls up, you still love him, because his desperation is like a knife twisted in your heart - hesitantly, you reach out, wanting to touch him, to comfort him somehow. In response, he grabs your hand, almost crushing it in his grip.

'Please,' he whispers brokenly. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I - I just need you to let me love you again. I never wanted to hurt you, I - ' 'But you did, Yunho,' you reply softly, grief making your voice thick and unsteady.

His face crumples. Bringing his trembling hands to his face, he turns away to hide the tears spilling down his face, and regret shoots through you like a bullet through the heart. Gripping his hand, you pull him to face you, but suddenly you can't stop, won't stop, tugging him closer until he's in your arms. It feels so right to share space with him, and you wonder why you ever tried to get over him and push him away when he's all you ever wanted, when he's your home. Sobs wrack his body, and you press your lips to his forehead, your own tears running down your cheeks into his hair as you tighten your arms around him.

'You hurt me, Yunho,' you choke out. 'I can't deny you hurt me. But it hurt because I loved you, and I love you now. I loved you when you kissed her, and I hated myself for it, but I guess my heart knew who it was made for, because I never stopped loving you.'

His chest heaves, a great shudder running through him, and he trembles, a giant felled by your sweet, healing words. He presses his lips against your shoulder, tasting the salt of his own tears in the wet material of your shirt; his fingers twine into your hair, and you can feel the effort it takes for him to get his words out between his rattling sobs in the strain of his voice, but he does.

'I - I missed you with every breath I took while you were gone,' he says. 'I lost the best part of me when you left. I love you, I'm a fucking fool, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry - '

Gently, you press a finger against his lips, making him look up at you. His words don't matter any more, not while he's in your arms and not while you know that you should have never let him go, that you should have never let either of you try to live without the other.

'I missed you too, Yunho,' you murmur. 'And I will never stop loving you.'

At your words, he goes completely still. He's frozen for a moment, his face inches from yours. A shiver runs down his back, and his eyes dart down to your lips.

'Can I - fuck - I need - '

He's taut as a bow string, thrumming with energy, and you can see the desperation on his face - he needs your lips on his as much as he needs to breathe. And yet, he still asks. You know then, with every fibre of your being, that he's what you want, that he's the only one you'll ever want, ever love.

'Yes,' you breathe. 'Yes.'

Cold moonlight limns his features as he leans in, but there's nothing cold about the look in his eyes. One hand cups your jaw, the other cupping the nape of your neck, his long fingers warm against your skin - his breath flutters softly against your lips before he closes the gap between you. The breath is knocked from you; he's never kissed you with this sort of aching tenderness, and you sink into his touch, eyes drifting shut.

You feel like you're falling again, the way you did the first time, when you'd rant to Mingi for hours about the smallest touch or moment you shared with Yunho, except this time, you lean into the tug of gravity with an eagerness you've never felt before. Like before, you teeter on the edge of a precipice, except, this time, you know what's at the bottom; you know the exhiliration of the fall, and the deep, aching love that awaits.

You jump, arms outstretched, knowing Yunho will catch you.

After you kiss Yunho for what seems like hours, running your hands up his back and burying them into his hair, pressing him closer to you and drinking him in, he drives you home. You're still drunk on his taste as you curl into him on your sofa, talking to him about nothing in particular, just soaking in the euphoria of being in his arms again; truly, you don't notice that your words become further and further apart, and that your eyes are drooping - you're too busy listening to the soft timbre of his voice. Nothing matters to you in this moment. It's just you and him, wonderfully relaxed against each other, not allowing an inch of space between you. Honestly, you're unsure where you end and Yunho begins.

Your heart is overflowing.

You're home.

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Yunho isn't quite aware what the words leaving his mouth mean. He's too busy studying the tilt of your neck and the way your lashes fall against your face, relearning the essence of you. A smile tugs at his lips when you finally succumb to sleep, head flopping against his chest. It reminds him of the many occurences when you'd fall asleep on him while watching movies: the times before he asked you out, when he'd carefully hold you, his heart pounding in his ears, and the times after, where he'd cradle you to him, peppering kisses all over your face.

Gently, he gathers you up in his arms and carries you to your bed, laying you down and tucking the blanket from the sofa over you - he knows you hate to get under the sheets without a shower and your so called 'outside clothes' off. Planning to quietly return to his car, Yunho straightens, but a small tug at the bottom of his shirt prevents him from standing up all the way. A glance down finds your fingers fisted in the hem of the black fabric; blearily, you blink your eyes at him, peeking out from beneath the blanket.

'Stay,' you mumble. 'Please.'

Yunho's heart flutters in his chest. You're beautiful, even with your hair a mess and your eyes and face still a little red from crying, and he could never resist you. He thinks he'd do anything for you, if you'd dare ask.

This time, he's determined that he's going to marry you. He wants to be yours forever - he wants to wake up by your side every morning, he wants to come home to you, he wants to tell you he loves you in your every waking moment.

Sitting down on the mattress beside you, he lets you clamber into his arms and snuggle into his chest.

'Whatever you say, my love.'

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When you wake up the next day, you're utterly relaxed. It's as if your body knows that you're in the safest place you could ever be - in Yunho's arms. His breathing is still deep, his hair a mess, the way it always is in the mornings. You don't think you've ever felt this comfortable; the mattress seems to cradle your back, the blankets a warm cocoon around you, and Yunho is draped over you, his long limbs tangled with yours. Smiling dumbly, you kiss his fluffed up hair, carding your fingers through it. A soft laugh leaves you when you realise his mouth is half open and that he's drooling on you, his cheek pressed against your shoulder.

Extracting one arm from beneath the blankets, you scrabble around your bedside for your phone. Yunho makes a soft sleepy noise, a frown digging into his forehead, and you hush him, rubbing his back soothingly; you're terribly relaxed right now, and you don't want to get up just yet.

In fact, you're pretty sure you want to stay like this forever.

Quickly, you snap a few pictures of him on your phone, unable to resist. Scrolling through your notifications from last night, you find a text from Mingi, asking how you are - he doesn't ask why you left the party with Yunho yesterday, or how it went, but his curiosity is still evident. You open the chat, a grin making its way onto your face.

Second chance granted, you type.

And then you throw your phone back onto your bedside table, ready to enjoy your morning with the man stirring in your arms. Yunho huffs quietly as he surfaces from his dreams, his long arms tightening around you; he buries his face into your neck, pressing a sweet kiss there, then another and another. Threading your fingers into his hair, your eyes close as he mouths at the hollow of your throat. He shifts so he's more comfortably situated between your legs, and you kiss his temple.

'Mm,' you hum contentedly. 'Morning.' 'Morning, love,' he replies.

His voice is raspy - deep and familiar as it always is in the morning. A memory comes to you: one of the many mornings you spent with him in bed, the sheets tangled around your legs with his skin on yours, and your stomach flips, warm longing bubbling up inside you. Gently, you tug at his hair, and he responds immediately, something that you suspect was already semi-hard nudging at your core before he shifts back quickly.

You frown as he pulls back a little. Searching his eyes, which have brightened a good deal since he first blinked them open, you examine them for any caution, but all you find is a deep seated fire.

'What's up?' You ask softly, cupping his face. He turns his head so he can kiss your palm. 'I - I want to... but I don't want to do anything too fast if you don't want it. I know I hurt you.' Leaning in, you press your forehead against his. 'Fuck going slow, Yunho. I love you. You know I do.'

It feels wonderful to say. The infatuation soaking the words is sweet on your tongue, magnificently domestic, something you missed saying to him every day, whispering it into his hair and against his lips like an oath. You feel like you're floating, a thrum of heat flushing through your body at the look in his eyes. He's tense, his muscles rock hard under your hands, his gaze transfixed on yours. Slowly, his lips part.

'Sweetheart,' he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your neck. 'You're driving me insane.' His touch travels to your cheek, his breath ghosting over your skin. 'I love you. More than you could ever know.'

He holds your gaze for a moment, and you find yourself mesmerised by him - his hair's a mess and his t-shirt is rumpled and emotions burn in his eyes, setting you on fire.

Fuck, he's glorious.

You grab his chin, fitting your lips to his. Yunho reciprocates like a man starved, his tongue licking into your mouth, hot and wet, his fingers curling around your waist and bringing your body snug against his - your head falls back against the pillows, eyes drifting closed when his hands trail teasingly up your body to cup your breasts, pushing up the hem of your shirt. Dipping his head, he nips at your skin, and you wouldn't stop the way your hips buck up into his even if you could.

A soft noise leaves your throat when his fingers ghost over your core, and he chuckles softly; you groan his name, nails scratching lightly at his shoulder, spurring him on as gently, he pushes your legs open, smoothly moving down the bed so that he's framed between your thighs. He keeps his gaze on yours as he slips your underwear off you, a smirk tugging at his lips when a shudder wracks your body at the first touch of his fingers on your slit, your back arching - you'd be embarrassed, but there's liquid fire in your veins, and all you can think of is him.

'Fuck, Yunho,' you choke out. 'Fuck.' 'You like that?' He teases, slipping a finger inside.

A whine rips from your chest. You clamp tightly around him, vice like, and he begins to pump his fingers in and out, his lower lip trapped under his teeth as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Wickedly, he curls his fingers inside you, sending bolts of pleasure shooting white hot through you, his carnal expression turning almost sadistic, as if he's studying the exact angle at which your eyes roll back.

On your bedside table, your phone dings once, then three times more in quick succession. You know it's Mingi.

You ignore it. There are more pressing matters at hand, slotted right between your legs and pressing feather light kisses to your thighs.

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ultimate-spiderman-stuff · 2 months

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Web-Warriors x gn!reader headcanons please? How would they react when they'd befriend reader and then realize they have a crush on them?

Peter

Peter met you in school

He got assigned to sit next to you in history

You were drawing,not really paying attention to the class

He kinda was just tapping his pen awkwardly trying to think of a good conversation starter

Ends up blurting out something really randome like:

'Hey, did you know that barnacals have the largest dicks relative to their size?'

He practically dies inside

He hurriedly tries to back track,stumbling over his words

Then you just look up from your drawing,raising an eyebrow at him, nodding slowly

Peter just stays quiet for half the period then he decides to ask what your drawing

You turn the sketch book around to show him Darth Vader

Cue to both of you fangirling over Star Wars

After a while you guys started hanging out at breaks with Harry and MJ

The both of you have the kind of friendship where you'll say randome facts about stuff completely out of then blue

Finally the team gets so annoyed with the constant yapping that they don't bother asking Peter if he likes you, they tell him

You already knew you like him but was just waiting for the right time to ask him out

The next day after class you both confess at the same time

It was really awkward but wholsome

So you start dating

Flash

He met you at the gym

You were doing weights and he offered to spot for you

You gladly accepted his offer and you guys clicked instantly

At first he thought it would be a one time thing, but the next time he was there he saw you and instantly came over

Soon you both were sharing opinions of different artists to listen to,and walking home together

Soon he asked you out

You went out for smoothies

Miles

You were from the Red Room and was recently taken into SHIELD

SHIELD had given you some Red Dust so you were free from the Red Room

Miles had come over to hangout with you in the cafeteria and was currently talking your ear off about Ghostbusters

As annoying as his constant banter was the plot was quite interesting

You were always getting into fights with everyone but you found him just that little bit more tolerable

Miles also liked hanging out with you even though you frightened him a bit

But after awhile he began to not really be bothered by you

Soon he decided to ask Peter for some advice on what he was feeling

Peter wasn't quite his best decision to go to cos Peter is practically clueless in that category

But after a lot of researching and Google saying he was going to die of a heart condition, both of them found the answer

Ge was in love with you

Ot was a very sweet confection, the poor boy was so nervous

You had no idea about dating

But everything eventually worked out

Amadeus

He met you at SHIELD

And yes you were 13 the same age as Amadeus

You were a botanist like your parents so you were able to work in the labs

Amadeus might be the 7th smartest person in the world but plants were just not his thing

So when he found some new plant based material on patrol he asked you for help

It turns out he wasn't as much as a prick as everyone else said he was

But he was still annoying

After a couple of days he was becoming a bit less of a dick then before

After a couple of weeks the prodject was finished

He kept on finding reasons to go back to your lab and the relationship began

None of you guys actually said it, it kinda just happened

So like who knows you could just be really good friends who shares a lab and custody of a goldfish

Ben

Scarlet was on patrol when he saw a creepy dude with a gun go into the cafe you were working at

By the time he got there he saw you judo flip the guy

So he just sat back and watched the show

Once you were done with him, he webbed the guy up, staring at you suspiciously

'What? Did ya think I couldn't protect myself just because I have no powers?' You asked

'Did I say that, punk?' He muttered, glaring harder

You rolled your eyes at his attitude, giving him a hot chocolate

Once he left he had to say you peeked his interest

So when aunt May was having a bit of trouble finding where to go to for lunch he suggested the cafe you worked at

May noticed that he was staring at you more than he did at other people so made sure to go there more often

Sometimes he even goes there without May

He begins to go there almost every day so that he can see you

He starts to talk to you and and become somewhat friends

After awhile he confide in May

She was so excited that he was interested in someone

So when he decided to confess he was a blushing mess

You got what he was getting at and said yes

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fizzigigsimmer · 6 months

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Moonwood Part 2

A little belated birthday gift for @adelacreations. 💗

Thank you to everyone who shared their love for part one of this. I tried to link those who asked.

Lunch is eye opening for Steve. He doesn’t look for Billy exactly… Okay he totally looks around to see if he can spot Billy at any of the lunch tables or standing in the queue to get hot lunch, but only because he’s actively trying to avoid the trouble he is 100% certain Billy means to bring to his doorstep. But he doesn’t see Billy anywhere and even if that settles his nerves a little, he’s kinda disappointed too. Like there’s a part of him that already feels drawn to Billy in some way - it itches in the back of his mind like a half formed memory. Only instead of ‘now where did I put those keys’ it’s, ‘now where is Billy?’

He tells himself he’s being way extra, because he is, and tries to put Billy out of his mind. After they shuffle through the line Tim starts to head towards an empty table and Steve hesitates - not wanting to be one of the only kids eating alone, with Tim. It’s just not a good look and he’s pretty sure he’s gonna get stuck talking about Star Wars or whatever the whole time.

“Hey Man, you uh-mind if I sit with some other people? I figure it might help me get to know folks since I’m new.” Steve tries to soften the blow, but the little frown that puckers the middle of Tim’s brow lets him know he hasn’t really succeeded. After agreeing where to meet up after the hour ends, Steve looks around for a table to join. About the second time his eyes sweep the room he realizes that he’s searching for a letterman’s jacket, but he tells himself it’s not for Billy. It’ll just be easier to talk shop with other jocks and maybe he’ll get lucky and find someone who is on the swim team.

But the first letterman’s jacket Steve sees is slung over the shoulders of a girl - only she’s not like any girl Steve has ever seen. She’s tall, and she’s stacked like she bench presses all the losers who have ever dared to hit on her before breakfast each morning; and she definitely eats all her Wheaties. And Steve knows girls are supposed to be soft and pixie sized or whatever, but he discovers a new kink that day because he really digs it. Would consider it an honor to suffocate between her muscular thighs or her full breasts.

And then weirdly, his mind goes back to Billy. He sort of gets why the path is there - Billy’s thighs were impressive and impossible to miss in those skin tight jeans - just not why his brain chooses to keep skipping down it to wonder what Billy’s chest looks like under his shirt, when he could be daydreaming about Sasha’s rack instead. That’s She-Ra’s name, Sasha.

Sasha is a little wary of Steve at first because she thinks he’s just there to hit on her and ruin her appetite by drooling over her boobs - which she actually has the balls to say to him before he’s even sat down. But when she hears that Steve is new it piques her interest. She’s kinda intense. Her stare gives Steve the impression she’d like to hoover his dick and make him cry uncle at the same time, which is hot fair enough, but a little unsettling. And she keeps peppering him with really invasive questions. Not just the expected where did you come from, but questions about his family.

“Wow Sasha you gonna put out for the whole family or what?” Some guy named Randy whom Sasha has been trying to wheedle into coming to some sort of gathering with her, jokes. And like a real asshole he looks right at Steve and goes, “I’d be careful with the moony girls if I were you Harrington. They’re easy but every one of them's got like six meathead cousins who will drag you out to the woods and eat your liver if they catch you sniffing around one of their girls.”

Steve’s surprised when Sasha laughs, big and toothy with this mesmerizing glint in her eye as she promises Randy they’d have to race her for the scraps. Steve realizes that this weird fluttery feeling in his stomach is fear. And his dick is hard because he’s an idiot.

The gathering Sasha is trying to convince Randy and some of the others at the table to come to is some sort of bonfire out in the woods that the Moonwood teens hold every few weeks or so. Apparently it gets wild. Lots of drinking and telling ghost stories around the campfire when they’re not hooking up somewhere. It kinda reminds Steve of the parties he and Tommy used to go to at the quarry, complete with the local ghost stories. Only instead of monsters in the lake, out here the forest is rampant with werewolves who eat unlucky campers.

Steve’s surprised to see how seriously the Schiller High kids take the local superstitions. Because from everything he observes Sasha is really popular with other students (especially the guys) and usually all she has to do to gather a crowd is name the time and place, but Randy and the others don’t want to be out in the woods on a full moon. It’s kinda hilarious.

“You’re so lame Randy. Has anything actually happened at a bonfire? Like ever?” Sasha pouts but Randy just shrugs and says there’s a first time for everything.

“Plus Billy’s still pissed at me for going out with Trish and I don’t feel like putting up with his bullshit while he’s high on moonshine.”

“Billy’s going to be there?” Steve asks like a lame before he can stop himself. Of course Mr. Popularity is gonna be there, he kicks himself at the same time that Randy sneers and rolls his eyes.

“Billy never misses a chance to walk on the wild side.” Sasha confirms with a smirk. “You should come too Steve, everyone who's anyone will be there. I bet you’ll meet a lot of people. That is if it’s not too far of a trip.”

“It’s not too far. I live there, actually. In Moonwood.” Steve reveals and it’s like he dropped a bomb on the table. The other kids are looking at him now like he’s done something either incredibly brave or stupid and they’re not sure which one it is. All except for Sasha whose eyes almost seem to flash at him as her already intense scrutiny intensifies.

“Of course! That’s what that is, I should have known.” She exclaims a light bulb turning on, and before Steve can ask what ‘what’ is, she adds “You’re Bob and Irene’s grandson.”

“Yeah how did you -” Steve starts to ask but Sasha waves the question off like it’s a pesky fly and grabs Steve’s hand like they’re best friends in a teen movie.

“Gosh your wrists are so delicate, it feels like I could snap them like twigs.” She giggles at him. “Oh, I met your mom! How come she’s never brought you to any of the community gatherings?”

Thinking back, Steve remembers that his mom had made a few attempts to invite him out with them when she and his grandparents went out for the night. They didn’t do it a ton, but when he did he always presumed they were doing something old and boring like pottery or chips and bingo.

“Uh, because I’m eighteen and bingo night with my mom and my grandparents isn’t exactly what I’d call a good time?”

That gets him a laugh from everyone but not for the reason he expected. Turns out Moonwood community “events” are well known in the area. While Steve was hanging out on the beach and camping with tourists, his neighbors were mixing moonshine, rolling joints, and dancing naked to bongo drums and other hippie shit.

“He wasn’t fully naked.” Sasha insists with a glint in her eye that makes Steve think she’s lying. “Randy was so high at the time he couldn’t uncross his eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I’m telling you Steve, this man went running into the trees buck-ass-naked. It was the craziest shit I ever saw!”

Everyone laughs and ribs at Randy and Steve just soaks it in for a moment. He can almost pretend that he’s back at home and nothing in his life has changed. But then Sasha pins him with those eyes of hers again and tells him he should come to the bonfire.

“Don’t let these tiny boys scare you Harrington, you’re made of stronger stuff. The worst thing that’s gonna be out in those woods is us.”

Sasha winks at him and that makes Steve chuckle. He likes her, he decides. She reminds him of Carol, if Carol were built like an Olympic athlete and had teeth big and white enough to do toothpaste ads.

What the hell, why not. It’ll pay off to be on good terms with the popular kids and maybe he can get ahead of the whole Billy situation before it becomes an issue if Sasha puts in a good word for him. As for the fear that the full moon will bring out the werewolves, that it might be dangerous to be out in the woods at night? Steve never takes it seriously for a moment.

|Part Three >>|

@darleenjade @sweetwaterangel @dragonflylady77 @natchula @tip-tap-tired @sparklingsprinkles

#harringrove #harringrove fic #werewolf au #teenwolf adjecent #part 2 0f 6 #could be longer we will see #Billy Hargrove is a werewolf #Steve Harrington is half a werewolf #size difference #I just love the thought of Billy and the rest of the pack being huge and calling Steve little pet names #He HATES it but he loves it #moonwood

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emo-ostrich · 5 months

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1: why doesn’t anyone talk about how heartbreaking this scene is

2: why doesn’t anyone talk about this episode?!?!

it’s actually very well written and serves as a set up for the much darker twist the show is taking

in this episode we learn:

-pidge would sacrifice a good amount of the universe to save her father. they’re the most logical and analytical on the team, yet all that goes out the window when her family gets involved. there’s an argument in the beginning of the episode that is very reminiscent of when pidge was going to leave voltron in season 1 and keith yells at them.

-honerva remembers that lotor is her son. this is a HUGE set up for season 8. she begins the phase 4 of the kuron project which leads to keith returning and becoming the black paladin. but she does all of this because she knows zarkon will kill lotor. she’s ok with lotor killing zarkon bc zarkon is merely a husk of the man he used to be. that realization definitely leads her down the path of “how can i restore my family” (cut to end of season 8).

-on the topic of project kuron, we see the effects of it with shiro lashing out and not being… very shiro like… but he gives lotor HIS BAYARD in the hostage exchange without telling the rest of the team. honerva calls for the beginning of phase 4, and we can see that phase 3 was the shiro that been with the team since he returned in season 3. he’s been living this jekyll and hyde type life with half kuron controlled by honerva and half real shiro.

-we see lance step up and give orders to the team. lance is the red paladin at this point in the series making him the right hand of voltron and this is one of the first times we see him step into that leadership position. watching him grow into that leadership position and learn to feel valued makes the end of season 8 hurt even worse. plus when shiro realizes they need backup he says “lance we could use a little help.” he already acknowledges lance as his right hand man even if lance doesn’t realize it yet. that’s the shiro part talking. lance gives an order and the team says “copy that” which is how lance normally responds to orders. it’s a very clear role reversal that i think is lovely in lance’s character arc (if only dreamworks actually finished his arc smh)

-lotor killing zarkon is proof he really did want peace. he wants nothing to do with his father, doesn’t want zarkon to be his father, and has no hesitation in killing him. lotor and voltron are fighting for the same thing, but simply have different methods. when they fight lotor, he seems hesitant to fire until allura says he’s like zarkon. that’s what throws him over the edge.

lotor becoming emperor of the galra after zarkon’s death shows that having a galra ally on the throne could be the key to peace (hello keith after season 8) so think about the set back in the war efforts when voltron kills the emperor, a former ally, and then disappears. maybe this is why the galra attacked earth? in the beginning on the series, they’re looking at a star map showing that the galra’s progress in conquering worlds is getting closer to reaching earth but hasn’t quite gotten there yet. so either and conquering has sped up and an insane rate, or earth was specifically targeted by the galra while voltron was gone.

-when zarkon is about to kill lotor, the team saves him. the first lion we see fire is allura implying that j was allura that saved lotor a life. that’s kinda big in her development or maybe she was just firing at zarkon who knows

ok sorry that’s all thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

(this is all about season 5 episode 2: blood duel)

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #lotor #lance mcclain #pidge gunderson #sam holt #shiro #kuron project

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xecutivecucumber · 17 days

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Executive Cucumber's Thoughts on The Bad Batch 03×12!

Spoilers under the cut

Let start out by saying holy heck that was the cool down episode I needed. My sister watched it before me and was able to tell me that Tech/CX-2 wasn't in it for a significant amount, so I was able to get past my disappointment and not be stressed out during the episode. Yes, I'm still on the 'Tech is CX-2 Bandwagon.' I do think they should have revealed him to the audience earlier, because I have to actively avoid Bad Batch social media (*cough*reddit*cough*) for my own mental health because of the negativity around the idea. It's really draining.

Anyway, on to the actual episode!

Today I realized that I might be triggered by Omega being trapped at Tantiss because of some past experiences. (And yes, if you've read my fics you know that I've done it to her too, but I have control over that and I think the problem is the lack of control I have)

Hi Tech! I love you! Please be un brainwashed soon!

I want to murder Hemlock. I don't know if I've ever hated a Star Wars villain like this before. It feels so personal.

It devastates me that they're going to take Omega's clothes away. Clothes that were given to her by people who love her. Ow.

Also you're playing a dangerous game, not keeping those binders on her, Hemlock.

'Is everything all right, Dr. Karr?' 'No, the Jango parent gene got awakened in me and that does not go away'

Why does Emerie think she HAS to do this?

I'm a little disappointed we didn't see Hunter find out about Omega. He's probably just in 'go' mode, honestly. Adrenaline and all that.

Crosshair is so proud of Omega oh my gosh.

PHEE MY QUEEEEEEEEEN

Oh my gosh Tech told Phee about Crosshair. That implies that had more time than we saw. That makes me so happy and sad.

Phee talks about Tech with such fondness. You can tell how much she cared about him. I feel like I'm watching a widow who's processed her grief but still talks about her husband because she loved him.

Also, looking at Phee, she doesn't really have any implied make up on. She's very natural. Good for her.

...Rampart looks kinda good with a beard.

Okay Tech would find the stunt Phee pulled extremely attractive.

This is the closest we've gotten to the original Batch we've gotten in a very long time. It feels good to see them go mission mode with Crosshair.

This is reminding me of Eriadu and I don't like it.

Crosshair asking Wrecker if he remembered whatever plan and then patiently waiting for him to remember lives rent free in my head he's so sweet.

WRECKER'S THEME IS BACK BABY

Also, Crosshair's theme is played in this really fun way?

Crosshair should be allowed to kick Rampart in the balls. As a treat.

Rampart you snake. Crosshair should have shot him in the leg instead of stunning him.

My sister pointed out that the juggernaut represents how the Batch is right now. You cannot stop them.

Man, it's nice to not to be as conflicted when the TK troopers die, as opposed to when clones were sent against them. Quick thought though, does Wolffe have all the remaining clones?

Man these guys get BRUTALIZED.

Them throwing around passed out Rampart is amazing and should continue to happen.

Okay Wrecker has his knife out HE IS READY TO TORTURE A MAN.

Frick you Rampart. He is the worst replacement for Omega.

Aww they probably didn't bring Batcher on the mission to protect her. (Plus she a half trained dog and it was a stealth mission)

And then the boys spent the next hour arguing over who has to call Echo and tell him.

Hemlock you FOULE you're giving Omega ALLIES. Also why are you telling her all this. She will use it against you.

Gall, I hate Hemlock.

Again, I really needed this cool down episode. Though I'm afraid the final three episodes are going to hurt. THIS IS MY FAVORITE SHOW WHY IS IT STRESSING ME OUT SO MUCH. ALSO WAITING A WEEK FOR EPISODES ALSO SUCKS. A LOT.

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kiameicore · 2 years

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KINKTOBER DAY 1 w SAGAU Xiao

FIRST DAY OF KINKTOBER, YAY!!! tbh, I thought I was late since some people already started posting lmao. I couldn't help it really, the urge to make sagau xiao smut was too much for me lol. Thanks to my precious pookie bear, for giving me ideas for first day of kinktober ! ! ~~ ♡

TW's: SAGAU, NSFW, Yandere behavior, Creator x acolyte theme ig, Fem!Creator (sorry, i'm not good at making reader gn or male, but i'll work on it!♡), Breeding, Bondage, Religious themes, kinda manipulation, sub!Xiao mostly, dehumanizing, pet names, mentions about slavery, and a lot of more mostly xiao getting shitty treatment but in NSFW way, idk how to put it LMAO).

I hope it'll come out good, since i literally don't know anything about NSFW actually. Sorry for any mistakes or other errors, feel free to correct me.

(Finding good images took me more time than writing this)

Cold night air flew trough opened window. It didn't matter that the brezze could freeze people to the bone, because actions inside palace temple made up for it.

Heavy breaths filled the shrine. Laying adeptus in bed tried to calm himself and aggressive panting that sometimes come out from his mouth. His limps were tied up by holy chains, thightly putting him in his place. Skin reddened from the impact they caused, in some places even blood would appear.

But it didn't matter.

He didn't care about it, as long as it was his God causing it.

" My, Xiao, you're finally tired?" you cooed at him. Seeing adeptus that fought in war and killed a lot of gods and humans on your bed was entertaining. He looked utterly pathetic.

At your words young man tried to stand up forgeting about chains. Small whimper filled the room. Sudden movement caused bondages to thighten even more causing pain. Yes, he wasn't a mere human being. He was strong. But since the bondages that occupied his body weren't some normal rope, it was hard to escape from them. After all, the Creator is the strongest being in the universe. It would be such a shame, if the chains they created would break that easily.

" n-NO! I'M NOT, YOUR GRACE!" he yelled, almost like he have forgette who's he's talking to.

" Really? In my opinion, you look tired. Also, stop moving. You'll hurt yourself even more. There's no escaping from me or my ropes."

You walked toward him slowly. You were bored at this point. It's not fun at all. You remembered his words:

" Your Grace, i'm at your display. I'll do anything"

well, you wondered if he knew what was about to come, would he still agree?

Even if, you didn't care.

The walk stoped when you were face to face with him. Sweat covered his forehead, eyes half lidded. When he saw you this close, he felt something in his throat. You were utterly magnificent. You touched his cheek in such lovely way, he almost saw stars.

Tracing your finger lower, stopping at his throat. For a moment, his breathing hitched. Your precious skin, touching him out of your own will? Truly beautiful!

" Your Highness... please, touch me" He viewed himself as sinner at that moment. Actually this situation didn't need to happen and yet he still would view himself in that way. His sins from past, he wasn't even worth your glances, he-

" Xiao, my dear, I have an important task for you." After he blinked, he found yourself sitting on his abdomen. " I'm pretty sure you can do it, right? You said you would do everything for me " With every word your face was closer to his. Simple actions for you, but not for him. Huh, He looks so frightened.

Putting your hands on his chest, trying to find a better position you feel something.

" I want you to breed me, Xiao" you finally said not caring about the impact these words caused. Poor boy.

" E-excuse me, Your Grace?!"

In moment the chains dissapeared, freeing red faced adeptus. Pinning your hands above your head, he felt himself becoming alive. For a moment you were concerned you killed him and he was about to join his friends, but no. Your words bring so much hapiness to him. He could even do flips!

His eyes wandered from your gorgeous face to your chest. If Rex Lapis saw him now, he would probably regret saving this poor boy. Well, he respected his master but he's not going to share your holy booba with an oldass like him. No fucking way. You don't need someone slow and old like him. Like, come on. Who listens to his speech? He's too boring for you. In Xiao's opinion you need someone who's more modern and doesn't talk too much, you're a busy person. Also speed is something he's blessed with. If you didn't want him, you wouldn't make him stronger and faster. And oh boy, he's going to use this skill in the best way possible.

His grip on your hands thighended even more with the thought of you fully fucked on his cock.

He positioned himself at your entertance while looking at your face for any hints of discomfort. Your face was unchanged, giving him approval to continue. Slowly, he pushed himself into you.

Feeling your walls squezing him a little he moaned softly. He was in heaven. Litteraly.

Slow movements turned into faster ones.

" Xiao, what are you doing? I told you to breed me not to sway me. I didn't know Morax's adeptis have problems with hearing." You slandered poor boy, giving him a squeze on his cheekbutt.

Sloppy thrusts made Xiao see stars. He was screaming his lungs out from the pleasure.

" I'll breed you, Your Highness!" his moans echoed through the room. The images of you with his bird like kids motivated him to continue his actions.

He flipped you so he could face your back. You looked back at him to see his expressions. Tongue loled out, drool slowly dripping to his chin and eyes half lidded.

His hands landed on your hips bringing you closer to him.

After he sped up his thursts, Xiao started felling things in abdomen. One hand flew to your neck.

" X- Xiao?! What are you-" you didn't end your sentence when you felt his hot breath on your neck and his teeth bitting into your skin.

"M-my Goddess, I think I'm about to cum". he stuttered out while burying his face into your back.

He didn't expect to cum so easily but since he never touched anyone before he's inexperienced and you saw it coming.

white stinky liquid shoted out from his cock into your hole filling you internally. Small body started to shake from his orgasm again taking his breath back.

His body collapsed onto yours. He was exhausted.

" Darling, I think you forgot about someone"

"One time won't make me pregnant, honey. Don't worry, you can atone for making this disgusting sin!"

" After all, you can't deny your God, right?"

You were right. He promised to give himself fully to you and he never broke his promises.

Xiao is definitley one of the most devoted acolytes of yours, after Morax. But this is not about him.

OKAY, THAT WAS BAD AND I'M TIRED.

i don't know if i'll make another one for day 2 tho. There's a lot of mistakes but i'll correct them after my nap lmao

hope you enjoyed it and uhhhh tell me if it's too dry ( i feel like its it and i want to improve on some things).

Thank you!

#xiao x reader #xiao smut #sagau #sagau xiao #sagau x reader #sagau smut #xiao #self aware genshin #self aware genshin au #sub xiao #genshin cult au #genshin self aware

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thought-42 · 27 days

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Somebody has to leave first

Star Wars, 1400 words,Ezra Bridger Something something growing up something something ded parent something something Ezra Bridger in the Chiss Ascendancy. I've never heard of canon in my life.

Ezra Bridger talks to dead people.

They do not, it should be noted, talk back.

He knows all things are possible within the Force, so he's always gotta keep in mind that his monologues run the very real risk of becoming dialogues, probably at the most embarrassing or inconvenient times, but honestly if a ghost has nothing better to do than listen in on his diary entries to the beyond that says more about them than it does about him.

He doesn't talk to Kanan. It seems like the obvious assumption, follow in the shuffling footsteps of Obi-Wan Kenobi and claw out frantically for a point of stability to serve as compass in a world gone upside down. And there was a time where a smile or a few words of pride from Kanan was all Ezra needed to reinforce his foundations and stand tall and ready. But the truth of it is, he doesn't know if Kanan would be proud of him, which would be less of a problem if Ezra himself had any uncertainty about his life choices.

Besides, even ten years on every time he thinks about that last glimpse of Kanan, wreathed in flames, he wants to dig his fingers into his skin and deeper and pull and pull until the memory and the sick feeling in his stomach are gone. He cannot think about it. It is an impossibility, it is not something his mind is capable of bearing, the idea of another living person who he loves burning and burning and burning is not something that can live inside of him sustainably. He thinks of Kanan and he feels sick and sad and selfish for not being able to focus on all the good memories.

No, Ezra doesn't talk to Kanan. Ezra talks to people he has only ever known in death.

He talks to Master Mace Windu and tells him he wishes he knew how to see shatterpoints. Ezra is good at building connections, building bridges, yeah yeah yeah, but every web has one thread at risk, one point where a quick pull will unravel the whole thing. Ezra's had his entire life shattered twice before with no warning, he would really love to know how to prevent the inevitable third round. . Shouldn't this skill just come free with the lineage?

He talks to Thrass-- "can I call you Thrass?" Everybody says Thrawn needed a brother, and yeah, ok, his older brother died and Thrawn went off the rails there for a hot eighteen years, but Ezra's here now, reporting for little brother duty twenty years late with caccoleaf; but better late than never, right? It feels right, picking up Thrass's flag in the relay of Sky Walker investigation and running hard and fast with it as far as he can go. Feels kinda like when Zeb would start a repair project on the Ghost and then leave the second half for Ezra to finish off with no need for explanation or request, just the trust that Ezra knows what to do. ...Thrawn kinda feels like one of those handed off projects, too, but Ezra doesn't even say that part to the dead, just in case they really are listening and decide to tell on him. Ezra never had an older sibling by blood, but they seem to adopt him everywhere he goes. He figures it's his turn to adopt one back, even if it is posthumous.

He talks to Master Depa, because, as his grandmaster, she's legally required to think he's doing a great job. He talks to her about being a teacher on a warship, asks how she delt with knowing every time she ruffled Caleb's hair over breakfast it could be the last.

He tells her every time he wonders if he permanently stained his soul with the dark he remembers that she came back as strong a Jedi as anybody could ask, and it really does make him trust in himself.

He thanks her for raising Caleb, although would it have killed her to teach him just a biiiit of Vaapad?

He tells her he understands, fundamentally, like a burning cole lodged in his ribcage, her desperate need to protect her student, to die so that he could live.

He tells her she would be proud of the man Caleb became, but that it probably wasn't what she expected. Caleb didn't grow up into Caleb. Caleb grew up into Kanan, and secretly Ezra always wonders if Kanan would have been someone who would have fit back in with the Jedi of his childhood.

Ezra's cabinet of entirely metaphorical ghosts all roll their eyes at this transparent attempt at obfuscation, because all the ghosts Ezra has made up to talk to are assholes.

Ok, fine. So maybe Ezra's pretty sure that the found family who gave Ezra Bridger, Jedi Padawan a home might not know what to do with Stybla'ezra'bridger, Jedi Navigator.

It had taken Ezra and sacher actual months, long nights of sitting at Ezra's kitchen table with big sheets of paper and cheap wine, tossing potential names for their brand new program back and forth. They settled on Jedi Navigator mostly because Thrawn told them they had three days before the official paperwork had to be filed, and they hadn't come up with anything better that they could both agree on. Ezra hit submit on his part of the project proposal and that night he'd laid awake imagining a scenario where he got to tell Hera and Kanan-- "See? Jedi Navigator. Something from each of you."

He's heard the war is over. The Rebellion won and turned right back around to build another Republic. He's heard there's another Jedi --not Kanan, miraculously returned like Ezra dreams at least once a month-- and he's going to start a new order. And he's tried to imagine himself somewhere in all of that and it doesn't fit. He fit on a bunk bed in the Ghost with his family around him, doing their part to beat back the constant press of fascism. But there's no more Empire, no more family all squished together in one little ship. Even if he wanted to climb back into that bunk he knows his head would bump the top now.

The space between eighteen and twenty-eight feels like a lifetime. At eighteen Ezra had just gotten all his clay together and ready to be moulded into a person, and then he'd flung himself half way across the galaxy and wound up being moulded and fired in a different kilmn entirely. There's an Ezra somewhere out there who grew and changed right alongside that cramped little family, who moved forward in their orbit, chose his path and his place on the same game board. He probably knows how to fit in. He's probably working at the Jedi school or part of the reconstruction efforts on Lothal or a commander on a Republic ship stamping out the last remnants of the Empire.

Ezra's not jealous of this other version of himself, this what-if world he built in his own imagination specifically to hurt himself. He expected to be struck by the longing for home, by the bitterness of lost possibility. He isn't.

He can't tell Thrawn this because Thrawn spent eighteen years becoming something monstrous, shredding himself and everyone around him in an increasingly desperate dancing of 'I can fix this I can fix this I can fix this' and when he’d come back the hole his departure had left had long since healed over.

He can't tell Kanan this because--- the force of the explosion, maybe, was enough to make it quick--

Hera's a General now, apparently, and Ezra's certain it suits her just as he's certain even in a world where he'd stayed he wouldn't be asking a General for existential advice at 3:00 AM. Every thing he learns about what's happening in Lesser Space is a double-edged blade.

They aren't really supposed to know much at all-- not relevant, but Theliva keeps offering Ezra little nuggets of info about the Spectors like an awkward stepparent offering candy to win affection from a recalcitrant child. To which Ezra says, 'did you know it was actually just so easy not to join the Empire?' If Ezra's parents had been alive and he could have carried on their family legacy-- well. Isn't that what his whole life's been about, at the end of the day? Hauling around other people's legacies, trying to build something new out of the scattered pieces.

He offers himself up, everything he is on open palms to the gallery of ghosts, living and dead:

This is all I have to offer. It is enough.

#Star Wars #Ezra Bridger #tumblrfic tag #star wars why?#listen man i don't know #sometimes you realize you've grown up and you're not at all where you thought you'd be and that's ok actually #also wanted to poke at some of the weird things your brain does if you lose a parent young #anyway I do think at some point Ezra and Luke become like online friends who scream together about trying to teach Force sensitive kids #this is also clearly unbetaed because sometimes your brain starts writing in the shower and you just gotta throw it into the universe #star wars rebels #chissezra au

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felassan · 2 months

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A conversation/interview video with Casey Hudson called "Casey Hudson Interview: Mass Effect Director on New Studio Humanoid Origin and His Next Game": [source and watch link] In the video they discuss topics like previous BioWare games and the early days at BioWare.

Part of video description:

"In this career-spanning interview, I talk to Mass Effect creator Casey Hudson about his philosophy on game development, projects like Star Wars: KotOR, and his new remote-friendly studio, Humanoid Origin, which is hard at work on an all-new sci-fi game IP."

Some quotes/notes under the cut:

Covid was a strange time for everyone. Casey was a studio head at BioWare when the pandemic and lockdown hit; everyone went home. this was very surreal, but he "was sitting in [his] home office as the General Manager for a studio of several hundred people", and "it kind of worked pretty well, and then it just makes you realize that if that's possible, then maybe you don't need the big infrastructure, huge studio locations, maybe there's a different way to do it."

Casey is also a concept artist. when they were starting creating Mass Effect, he was really concerned with the Citadel and what the shape of it was going to be, so he did tons of drawings trying to figure out what it would look like.

In the early days of BioWare, the old BioWare culture had devs often out dancing on Whyte Avenue. many of the devs in the early days at BW worked on Whyte Avenue. just downstairs from them is where all the bars and restaurants were, and many of the devs lived within walking distance. at that time work was most of their lives. if they wanted to meet their friends at the bar, they were just downstairs or across the street. "This is not a lifestyle that you wanna maintain into your 30s and 40s, but that's kind've what it was like at that time. But because it was so, I think it was a really narrow existence in a lot of ways and half of it is in the winter, bitterly cold outside, that we then first of all have a lot of time to focus and imagine something but also you then really start thinking of like, what does the escape look like? Where do you want to be right now? Instead of in the middle of the winter in Edmonton working 12 hours a day. Where would you, what do you fantasize about? That I think is kinda what propelled a lot of the vision for these really epic places and a sense of escapism." - Interestingly KOTOR and ME1 both have levels/scenes near the end with beaches.

It took people 15 years to notice that the sentence in the opening segment of ME1 "and the civilizations of the galaxy called it.. mass effect" was an homage to Top Gun ("the pilots call it Top Gun"). this was put in there because Casey used to want to be a fighter pilot when he was younger.

Why did they have the Reapers in ME, these lovecraftian terrifying horror things? They originate from 2 things. BW really envisioned ME as "imagine that there was a movie that came out in the late 70s or early 80s". it was to be kind of in the vein of Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan, or Alien, and like it was like a major sci-fi hit that just didn't get released, only now you get to play it and be in that experience. "So that's kind of where we went with, not necessarily horror, but that sort of sci-fi suspense feeling. And then I think the other piece was, we were just really swinging for the fences. like, if there's a threat, what is the biggest threat? And if you're gonna make a decision in this game, let's make them agonizing decisions of the highest stakes, and so ME kind've has this feeling like, of everything being big and important and difficult choices and huge scale. And I think that's where it came from."

99% of the creature models for Neverwinter Nights were thrown in the trash. Casey made a bunch of models over the course of a year, as a major part of his role that year. Then the D&D 3rd Edition rules came out with concepts in them for how things were supposed to look. "I believe what happened was we were asked to just snap to those concepts, so all of these character models that I had made were just never going to get used. the irony of it is the one thing that did end up getting used was the giant spider model I did in my first day or two."

(on his first day at BioWare they gave him a concept for a giant spider, and in his first week he made this spider monster model.)

early screenshots of NWN were from a prototype as opposed to the proper game engine.

the interviewer mentioned that the NWN era was a stressful time, a dark time at BioWare. the publisher was going bankrupt.

the co-founder doctors Ray and Greg were very good at providing an environment that felt stable because they were shielding the devs from a lot of the existential crisis the business was in, so it felt stable, but they also provided real stability. "The games that we worked on, for many years, everything we worked on shipped and became a good game that brought revenue into the studio and elevated our status as a developer. But I know that it was a lot rougher waters than what we experienced. I'm always curious to follow up with Rey and Greg and find out what that would have been like for them."

The interviewer then mentions that things then got a little more exploratory at the studio at that time, and the fact that there were some cancelled projects. Casey: "At that point, we were becoming larger as a studio and growing the number of projects we had at a given time. I think at one point there was just more projects than we could sustain in terms of focus and just the logistics of getting that many things out. Prior to that though we had an amazing run, it was very rare to be able to ship everything that you work on, and I think we had that for quite a while."

At that time in games development, devs just worked on the game they were working on all day. Nowadays in game development there's lots of other things they often have to do during their day at work (like instead of and in addition to). in his new studio, Casey said he wants to try and work smarter or faster, and without ending up doing crunch time, and without working on things that end up needing to be downscoped.

He also discussed the development of KOTOR at various points in the video and relayed some anecdotes about KOTOR. for example, Jolee Bindo is named after his imaginary friend from childhood that he had.

On the naming of Anthem: "So that one, I've only heard the story secondhand because I came into Anthem at the very end. I was on that project at the very, that was going to be the next full game that I was gonna work on right after ME3. We moved onto what was going to be our new IP and it was called Project Dylan at the time. I worked on Dylan for about a year before I left EA. I was at Microsoft for a while. then after a few years, that project was still going and then had actually been announced as Anthem and had its E3 debut. So they already had their name, as of that point. As I understand, that was another one where it's just, you try a number of different names, and at this point, there are just so many things being copy-written that it's really hard to find a name that isn't blocked by an existing product. But I thought that was a great name."

In the early days of BW they generally didn't have much interaction with the publisher. "It just really felt like we could just go off and design something that was true to itself and was amazing for what we were making". it's harder and harder to do this nowadays as publishers and studios get bigger and bigger.

[source]

#bioware #mass effect #video games #covid mention #long post #longpost #alcohol cw #anthem

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bumblebeehug · 9 months

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Regarding the END rewriting post, I feel like there are so many nalu moments that had a lot of potential but ended up being a bit disappoting ?? Like in 100 yq when lucy held natsu back and got burnt, but they never had a proper conversation about it. Idk I just find it a bit frustrating

i don't even know if i can pretend that mashima and ueda's treatment of nalu is fine, because it really isn't. mashima can abolutely spend his time writing about as many mangas and stories as he wants, but i feel like he shouldn't have promised the sequel if he never intended to put in effort for it. i could have managed half of the amount of arcs we've had leading up to these recent chapters, if we could have gotten more character development instead. just brief insights of what's been going on with Lucy since the war against Alvarez, how Natsu has been dealing with his END stuff, because clearly that's unfinished business, and I'd love to see Wendy flashback to the faces during the tartaros arc by learning how she's coping mentally, maybe talking with carla about it etc.

to not just criticize the mashima's writing, i feel like nalu as a ship has been overlooked for a crazy long time now. We haven't gotten a nalu-centered chapter cover in ages, nalu day became 1/4th about nalu and 3/4ths of the other ships in the major four. Now i'm really reading in to it though, because if you look at the effort he's been putting into the nalu arts compared to the other ones, nalu had unshaded arts that felt unfinished and hurried, the face on natsu this year felt meaningless rather than exciting, and in general, the jerza and gruvia art has been so much higher quality, that i can't help but to feel a little deserted. natsu didn't even get an artpiece for his day this year, however he did get a shared one some weeks before that, where Wendy was kinda main focus (i love her but natsu sould be a liiiittle bit more in focus, considering the fact that he's the hero of the entire franchise)

i would also die for some general interractions between natsu and lucy in the hyq that go beyond natsu saying "ill fight the enemy with my fist!" and lucy smacking him on his head or reacting loudly like "don't say that!" or "that won't work!" or "it's always as simple as that for you huh", because i'm sorry but they barely seem like friends anymore? ik it's mainly the recent chapters that's been like this, but it's exhausting either way yk.

the fact that the whole year of abandonment got brushed over is also one of the things i wish mashima would've tied up in the sequel, but i doubt it would happen now, so far along.

also, the fact that natsu had no reaction about nasha or the relationship between the star-versions of them is just disappointing

#sorry for ranting #i'll get back to writing my fanfics where i fic all the problems i have with the hyq and other parts of fairy tail #fairy tail #hyq #nalu

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myaoiboy · 4 months

Text

Rating All The Metal Gears By Hotness

No, not the characters. Yes, literally the Metal Gears. If I forgot any, let me know.

Metal Gear TX-55 - 4/10

This is just a lil guy. A friend, even. Reminiscent of a gonk droid from Star Wars. Sucks that he was made to do murdering. I can see where someone would find appeal, but not really for me.

Metal Gear D - 6/10

This one I can see. He got some depth to him. Kinda shiny. More smooth, less boxy. Kind of insectoid. In most franchises this would be like an 8, but it gets knocked down because of what comes later being so much sexier.

Also can I say that MG2's spriting? Mwah. Chef's kiss. So pretty. Didn't even read the intro the first time I started it up bc I was marveling at the pretty spritework. I fucking love good spritework, just find it so much more satisfying than equivalent-quality 3D art.

Metal Gear G - 2/10

Never actually completed or seen in game. Was supposed to be a smaller, mass produced version of D. Kinda sexy, loses points for being so fictional that it's only theoretical even in the games.

Metal Gear REX - 7/10

OOOO YEAH, NOW WE'RE TALKIN'!! SHINKAWA ERA BAYBEY!!! Man's got impeccable taste. He could make a literal slab of titanium look inviting.

Rex is not the sexiest Metal Gear to me, partly bc Otacon treats it like a son or a pet dog and I find a 25-yo's son-analogue to be offputting. BUT. I must concede. REX is the blueprint for all the sexy traits to come. He's got the hips. He's got the saunter. He's just a lil too brutalist for me.

Metal Gear RAY - 11/10

I know I have psychological problems because this thing's childbearing hips and murderous mandibles distract me during the boss fight.

Why is it so sexy?? What the fuck?? It's like mecha furrybait but specifically for people who are into garrus mass effect. Please tell me I'm not the only one, I'm pretty sure my boyfriend thinks I'm insane.

Arsenal Gear - 4/10

Basically just an aircraft carrier. I would say not fuckable but it DOES, canonically, have a digestive tract and asshole so like. Technically fuckable I think. But at what cost?

Honorable mention for making me deal with Raiden's daddy issues and fight the sexy mech in this thing's enormous rectum (damn near killed 'em).

Shagohod - 4/10

Not technically a metal gear. I can see the appeal, but it doesn't *quite* nail the drider-esque niche for me. It does get a bonus point for the way it moves being kinda sensual tho. Additional bonus point for being piloted by an evil fa-

Intercontinental Ballistic Metal Gear - 0/10

literally could not even find an image of this that wasn't completely dwarfed by the Saturn V rocket attached to it. Not really much to look at. If you've always wanted to fuck a Saturn V, I guess this would be a good way to get introduced.

Metal Gear RAXA - 2/10

Somehow managed to capture "first day of kindergarten" energy in a death machine. I could be convinced based on its behavior tho. Damn, Portable Ops kind of an L design-wise, huh?

Gekkos - 9.5/10

WHY DOES IT HAVE SQUISHABLE THIGHS?? SIR???

And the feet. Like, we gotta talk about the feet. Why? Why the toes? Why does it stomp on me with its weirdly well-defined toes??? Did they make this mech specifically to appeal to dinosaur foot fetishists? Why does it bleed? Why does it MOO???

Extremely fuckable to the point that it loses half a point purely because it *feels* like horny bait.

Dwarf Gekkos - 7.5/10

This is an object that feels like it was designed by and for lesbians. I have no notes. Slightly offputting only due to the odd number of hands but it IS the perfect number for some activities, so honestly that may be a plus.

Metal Gear Mk II/III - 1/10

Adorable. Not fuckable. This is a gopro with a personality. Not to be confused with the vampiric gopro with a personality from Ultrakill, V1. Literally just a baby.

Outer Haven - 5.5/10

Only technically a Metal Gear by virtue of technically being a stolen Arsenal Gear which is technically a Metal Gear. Gains .25 each for being the site of the infamous russian tuant

and whatever fucked up display of devoted homosexuality this is:

also additional bonus point for being piloted by an evil fa-

Pupa - 3/10

This is just the Shagohod but with an AI pod. -1 for being touched by Huey, but balanced out by the +1 from being made by Strangelove. Even if it IS creepy that she made her dead crush/girlfriend's psyche pilot it around.

Crysalis - 6/10

Not super sexy but it does fly and has a rail gun where one could feasibly conceptualize a dick. Kinda MILF-like (has mini-drones). Has a grappling hook, so could do bondage. Probably would, ngl.

Cocoon - 1/10

Pupa, but less sexy. I barely even remember this boss fight because the game became such a rush right around here, pushing you to the postgame/first ending.

Peace Walker - 7/10

Weird dog, functioning by sheer lesbian willpower. She is beauty, she is grace, she would probably rate a lot higher if my emulator didn't suck ass and make me angry every time I see her now, fuck that bitch.

Rage aside, who doesn't love killing their momgirlfriend and then reliving that multiple times throughout the course of a single game, culminating in her just straight up pulling a Virginia Woolf.

Metal Gear Zeke - 6/10

Really just nothing that special. Okay, wait, +2 for being piloted by an evil little girl in her panties for some fucking reason.

Also +1 for the sick ass boss fight.

Walker Gear(s) - 8/10

HERE we go!!! Hell Yeah Babey!!! Basically human sized! Has lil Fuckin' Roller Skates!!! Carries My Ammo! My Best Friend! (Okay, third best friend, after Quiet and DD)

Yeah Huey developed it but it gets WAY more bonus points for letting me manhandle him.

Sahelanthropus - 7/10

I can't deny the raw sex appeal of Sahelanthropus. Also, it's literally piloted by pubescent rage which is something I deeply resonate with ngl.

HOWEVER it DOES get docked points for uhhh

-getting strangelove killed

-making baby otacon a child soldier

-huey :/

Battle Gear - 0/10

Is there even a single frame of this entire thing? Especially without Huey??

negative 1 billion points for blue balling me in the late game, i want to ride this motherfucker right into the kgb outposts and let 'em have it for what they did to babygirl

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multifandomwritings · 2 years

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Do you write for Tech? If you do, do you have any cute headcanons for him?

I do and this is my first request for him so I'm excited :') I have a lot of ideas for the bad batch, so there are definitely more if anyone wants them! I decided to do this though for now, I just love this idea for him and idk hope you like it!

Star Wars (The Bad Batch) | Tech having a crush on you would include

Tech would think himself mostly immune to all the typical embarrassments of liking someone. He's so clever and well read, after all. Surely he has the knowledge to have confidence and not be super awkward around you?

Except he doesn't. In fact, of all the batch, he'd be the clumsiest/most awkward around whoever he was interested in for sure

He'd either get interested in you right away, almost forgetting to introduce himself properly. His brothers would all exchange knowing glances as they watched him scramble to find the right words, his ears going all pink

Or he'd have no idea why you made him such a nervous wreck. You get too close while helping him do repairs or something? Suddenly his heart is racing and his face is hot and he's seriously concerned something is wrong with him

(Searches his symptoms on his datapad)

(Still clueless)

Yet despite the almost unpleasant feeling of his heart racing and stomach knotting up around you, he'd find himself seeking you out any chance he got

No matter how clueless you are you'd still be able to tell he had feelings for you pretty quickly. The tiniest physical contact would make his cheeks flush pink. He'd both go out of his way to impress you with his expansive knowledge and would go surprisingly quiet around you, listening to you tell him about your interests

Anytime you speak he'd go silent and would look at you with slightly widened, focused eyes that would make your heart race

Researches all the things you're interested in. Half because he'd be genuinely interested, and half to have an excuse to talk to you

If you listened to him go on about things and didn't interrupt/seemed really interested, he'd get so enthusiastic — that is, until he'd realize how intently you listened, slowly trailing off and losing his train of thought

And if you reassured him that you really wanted to hear him go on, he'd light up so much

Your compliments and attention would make his mind spin. He'd clumsily thank you and would mull over your words for ages, smiling to himself the rest of the day

You could just state the obvious and be like you're so smart Tech?? And he'd turn so red

Lots of blushing in general simply put

And staring at you absent-mindedly, quickly looking away when you notice, or trying to play it off

Physical contact from you, no matter how brief, would instantly make him stiffen up and purse his lips as he watched you, pondering over the feeling your touches left

Even if you stood arm to arm or brushed by him on accident, his shoulders would go all stiff and he'd raise his eyebrows and try to ignore how much of an effect you had on him

Really sweet in his own way. Like very gentlemanly and thoughtful. Mostly because you'd be on his mind most of the time anyway

He'd go on about you a lot to the others without even noticing. Eventually they'd get impatient with him and would encourage him to ask you out or admit his feelings to you

Kinda insecure. Even if you showed an interest in him and he tried to rationalize everything, even if his brothers told him it was obvious you liked him, he'd still doubt it. Like yes, there is a good probability that you do feel the same based on your behavior, but what if you didn't?

Completely loses his composure around you even at the thought of it, as if you'd somehow figure it out without him saying anything

Or he'd accidentally blurt it out and you'd reject him

Overthinks every possible outcome, worried that he'd ruin things or make it weird between you

When he did finally muster up the courage to admit it to you it would be so clumsy. His usual eloquent/well put way of speaking would completely falter. He'd stumble on his words, making your smile slowly grow wider and wider as you realized what he was saying. He'd be so sincere, looking at you desperately as if hoping you'd understand and help him out

If you beat him to it he'd be so grateful, pleasantly surprised at your words. He'd smile more with your every word, shocked at how relieved he was to receive your affection. Would give you the sweetest look, hanging onto your every word

#tech x reader #tech x you #tech imagines #tech imagine #tech x y/n #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch imagines #the bad batch imagine #tbb imagines #tbb imagine #tbb tech x reader #the bad batch tech x reader

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blood-injections · 7 months

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hiiiii wpuld llove to hear some funghoul thoughts if you gotany

I always have fun ghoul thoughts :)

His identity or like my headcanons for it kind of fluctuate because i tend to project on him a lot of the time lol, and right now my thing for him is its kinda inhuman, not literally, but he feels detached from being a person, his pronouns have always been he/it, and he says he/hims his favorite, but whenever someone uses it/its and he hears it he gets a crazy flush of euphoia. It doesn't happen often, though, just with his friends, and they only use it/its half the time cause, yknow, and its never opened up about just how it makes it feel, he could ask them to only say it and they would. But the rest of the zones? Eh. Even killjoys are weird about it/its a lot. And he still likes he as well

But yeah, he feels inhuman a lot of the time, and he likes that, he likes his identity being something Other, something scary, hes not sure if its something animal he feels like or something unknown, he just knows he'd rather lunge and bite in battle instead of shooting a gun, get blood and skin under his nails, it feels more natural, and he likes when people look at him like hes a monster and he should get to have sharp teeth and claws.

He loves stories!!! Stories and cultures!! Hearing and learning, and oral storytelling is such a big thing in the zones, with there being few books left and with most zoneborn not knowing how to read, like him, not zoneborn but raised on the streets in battery city, he can read some, but not well, and it just makes his head hurt. But ghoul grew up around androids and ritalin rats and the latter never had much on their minds but addiction, but the droids, well they had nothing to do but dream. And they told him stories, so many stories, stories of the future when the city would be free and they wouldn't have to rust in the streets, thrown aside by society, nothing more than products. They told it stories filled with hope, stories of Destroya, of the grafiiti bible, stories of a future where no one would have to work or starve or hurt.

Then he got to the zones and heard different kinds of stories, old ones, not of the future but of the past. It met Jet first, and theyd sit around a fire and shed tell him all about the desert, not about her own past, something it could guess was still a wound too fresh to face, much like his, when he first escaped. But she tells him of the zones, of the Phoenix Witch, how she takes masks or guns or keepsakes and leads your soul to your next life when you die, and how she commonly watches over the desert in the form of a raven, and hes fucking enraptured. And then jet takes it to visit dr d, a friend of a friend, and he gets to hear stories of the wars that he was never taught of in the city, and he gets to hear of the world before, because it has so many questions and dr d is more than willing to answer them, he loves Talking, telling stories, sharing what life used to be like.

And later, from Cherri, he learns older stories yet, myths and legends passed down from forgotten times, of giant birds that brought rain and thunder, to a myth of fire and a technicolor raven, stories of spirits and heroes and the desert itself. Everyone has stories to tell and it loves to hear them and pass them on, to Kobra, who especially loves the sort or stories he got from Cherri, of legends from an old people who were one with the land; and when the girl comes along and they take her in, he retells all the stories hes heard to her. Her favorites are of the world before the wars, things Ghoul never saw but learned of through dr d and older joys, of bustling citys not like bat city at all, of concerts with thousands of people in the stands, not just a small pit of joys, stories of people flying to the stars and landing on the moon, and of waterparks and airplanes, or high schools and ice cream trucks. By then he has stories of it's own, too, and she loves to hear those too, stories of bad firefights and hearty laughs, memories from the fab four before they had her, of poison doing something stupid or kobra getting sprayed by a skunk or that time jet woke up to find a mouse has nested in her hair in her sleep, the girl giggles the most at those stories.

He'd write novels if he could, if he the time and supplies and skill. Or he'd at least copy some of the stories hes heard back to paper, for when theres no one left that remembers them to tell them by voice alone.

#this kind of spiralled. enjoy #god i love. cultures and storytelling and .how every People hopes differently. augh #fun ghoul #asks #danger days #ttlotfk #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys

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hurricanek8art · 7 months

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So a lot of people have seen my Star Wars posts the last couple of weeks. I only have a handful of followers and I'm still pretty new to all of this, and it's been fun and kinda mind blowing. I would love to talk about Star Wars or other nerdy stuff more than anything right now, but... I have something I have to get off my chest.

My dog Lucy died this afternoon.

It was sudden, like this developed at some point in the three months since she was at the vet last, and there was nothing we could do. I can't bring myself to really talk about it. I don't think I ever will be able to. It's too much. Because Lucy was my everything.

I'm not posting this because I'm looking for sympathy or prayer. I mean I'll take it if you're comfortable giving it, but that's all really complicated stuff, y'know? Not everybody has a great relationship with grief or religion—heck I don't always have an easy relationship with either of them sometimes, but I'm working on it. I'm not digging for commiseration or "poor sweet baby"s or anything. I just... don't have many people to talk to in my life. And this is gonna be really hard for me going forward. Not that anyone needs me to tell them that, everyone who's been where I am knows this. I'm not ready to grieve. I've grieved half my life, really, for different reasons, different people. It's... complicated. I'm complicated. So I'm going to do what I learned how to do to cope with my grief as a child. I'm going to tell you a story.

It's a story about love and unexpected journeys. Of finding who you are through someone else. Of a girl and her dog, who found each other and were who the other needed in just the right moment. I want to tell you a story because if even one person reads this, just reads it, doesn't even reblog or like or anything, the story is carried on. And the story lives forever. And in a way, Lucy lives forever. Because she already does in my heart, and she always will. So I'm going to tell the world our story not because I'm looking for followers or likes or sympathy or whatever. I'm telling it because I want at least one person to know even a fraction of how much I love her. If you don't or can't read this because it's too much, too close, too anything, I understand more than anyone that it can be overwhelming or painful. But if you do read this rambly ode that I wrote last night in sort of a haze... I thank you, for carrying the story on.

I met Lucy when I was thirteen. My family had been looking into training a service dog for me for a few months. We thought that it would help with my autism, alongside the PTSD I was dealing with in the aftermath of my father's death a little less than a year before. Because we already had one wonderful lab mix, the local training organizations had turned our applications down, citing that it would be too complicated to integrate the dogs. A friend of our family who did occupational therapy through animals suggested we find a dog and train it ourselves, with her help and help from people she knew, so off to the local shelters we went. This trip was our third try, and it was the same shelter we found our lab in—third try's the charm, right? And it was.

My mom wanted me to look at the puppies down a different row of kennels. Easier to train when they're younger, and she has a fondness for labs. But I walked down the righthand row, waving and smiling and wincing at the noise as excited dogs barked, wanting to see why new people were there, and I saw her. She was in the middle of the row of kennels. She never barked, but her big brown eyes were bright. I knelt down to say hello because she was the only one not barking in my face, and she leaned against the chain link to get closer for me to scratch, still looking at me with those beautiful eyes. I didn't realize it in that moment, but that was the moment she moved straight into my heart. I wanted to at least visit with her in the introduction room. Yes, the puppies were cute, but I had a feeling this time, y'know?

When they brought her into the room, I was sitting on the floor. She about dragged the shelter volunteers across the room, making a beeline for me. Sniffing all over. No licking—she's never been a licker. That's alright. We played a little, my mom and brother watching kinda surprised because this dog didn't want to look anywhere but me. She sniffed curiously around the room a few times, sure, but otherwise, she was right there. Stayed right there. And then she did this.

I was a goner. Because I found my dog.

___

They told us they thought she was a dalmatian mix, estimated to be about one and a half, which was amazing because we did the math later and realized she was likely born around my birthday in December. Asked me what I wanted to name her. I was on a Narnia hyperfixation at that point. Lucy, because she was so sweet and curious. Later the name evolved into an homage to Lucille Ball, because she was wacky and goofy and fun. I don't care where the name came from. She was Lucy and she was my dog. We had to introduce her to our other dog the next day, at the dog park. It went fantastic. All she wanted to do was romp and play, and our other dog went from acting her age of 8 and sorta arthritic to a happy two year old again. Surprisingly, the shelter worker handed us the leash and said "she's yours for the weekend, we'll talk on Monday". Trial run I guess. I was fine. I was ready.

It was Friday, April 13th, 2012. My brother likes to make jokes that the date should've been a clue that she'd be a handful, but I don't care. A Friday the 13th was one of the best days of my life. Even if it didn't feel like it at the time.

(I swear she and our lab got along, that one is just one of the few pictures I have of them together at the moment 🤣 I have so many pictures, but I can't go through them yet. These are just the ones I feel comfortable sharing right now.)

___

She was not a dalmatian mix. We figured that out that night when we put her up in my room to sleep. I was too buzzed with excitement, so I was in the living room when I heard it. This bay from my room. Not a bark, a full on hound bay. I remember looking at my mother in shock, and she just shook her head, eyes wide. "That is not a dalmatian."

It turned out there was an foxhound breeding/hunting place a few miles out in the boonies from us. They don't actually fox hunt, it's more of a horse-riding club where you go out riding with a whole flipping herd of foxhounds, English and American, to exercise the dogs. The shelter had found her about a month before running around in the woods, no collar, no chip, nothing. We don't know if that really is where she was lost from, or how long she was a stray. No one from there came looking for her if she was theirs. She had some scars on her face, thin scratches you could only really see when you squished the loose skin on her face. I loved squishing her face so much. Lucy had pretty clearly never been raised around non-working dogs. Or humans. Or anything, really. The world of the suburbs was new and confusing to her, but she knew how to chase, and run, and scent-track. Never had a problem with wild animals trying to get into our yard again at that house. Lucy was here to protect her new people.

(I should be clear that there was nothing in this tree. No squirrels or anything. I think this photo really captures some of her essence, though 🤣)

Service dog training went out of the window pretty quickly. My mother, who'd had dogs for decades, had never adopted a dog as old as her before, and Lucy was a lot. Hyperactive, intense prey drive, stubborn and hardheaded and loud, oh my gosh she was so loud. And settling into a new routine after losing her husband while trying to raise two autistic kids, while we all dealt with PTSD, was a lot. She got overwhelmed and kinda shut down after a while. My brother didn't know how to train dogs either, so he shut down, too. I don't blame them at all, we were all grieving and they came back around eventually, but I was thirteen years old with a dog I had no idea how to train, and I felt alone. I was grieving and scared, and for a while I was terrified that it wasn't going to work out. Every time our family adopts an animal, we swear right then—that animal is a part of our family, no matter what. But it was so much, and we were dealing with so much.

But then Lucy would look at me with those big brown eyes. And I'd feel okay. Because she was my dog. And I was her person. And I wasn't going to give up. So I squared my shoulders, I went over everything I knew from what my mother had taught me over the years, and I trained my dog.

(this was from 2016, and it's the day I knew she and my brother actually did get along, despite all the headaches and banged-up knees from her not dodging around him quite in time that she caused)

Things have never been easy. But we got through it. We moved out of my childhood home, a little over a year after returning from everything that happened with my father. (It was a saga I really don't know how to share) My PTSD and trauma stuff got worse, and my now-regular panic attacks really got started, and I dropped out of therapy like an idiot, but through it all she was there, always, always. When it felt like no one else was. When it felt like I was drowning. I never got suicidal thoughts until the pandemic hit, and have never been anywhere near wanting to even think about following through on them, but even when I was in really dark places, no matter what, Lucy was there, listening to me with her big floppy peanut butter colored ears and her big brown eyes and her freckly-looking spots. Lucy saved me from fully spiraling into a grief-filled, depressed fog I wouldn't be able to find a way out of more times than I can count. As far as I'm concerned, she saved my life. She was never cuddly—I think she tolerated my attempts at affection more than anything sometimes, but that was okay. I'm pretty touch-averse when it comes to humans and hugs and stuff. Dogs, no, humans, yes. I understood, and I knew when she'd had enough and when to step away, and I did my best to respect that. She was fine with being independant, with just being near me. And I realized I was fine with it too. Because she was there. And I was there for her.

(She heard me open a snack container in the first pic; behind that bush was one of her favorite spots in the summer even though it drove me crazy when I couldn't find her 🤣)

Over the past few years, it felt like we'd really settled into where we were supposed to be. She never slowed down with age. She just... matured, I think? Especially after our lab mixed died in 2016 and it was just her and us humans. Realized she didn't have to constantly chase the next smell, be on the lookout for the next squirrel or bird or rabbit. When I took her out for our hours of hanging out on the back porch in the sunshine, as soon as the weather would turn warm, she went from constantly running around the yard to taking breaks to hang around my chair. Laying near me, sometimes even next to me. A few times she laid her head on my feet, or next to them, or against my legs when I was sitting on the ground. I almost cried every time because it made me happy she was so comfortable with that. (Scratch that, I did cry) My favorite was when we were out there in the evenings, and she'd fall asleep as it got dark, deep enough to snore. She felt safe enough to do that, comfortable enough, content enough to let herself fall that deep asleep, because she knew we were there to protect her, be there for her. Because I was there. And if you've never heard a hound howl in their sleep because they were dreaming about chasing things, you've missed out, it's possibly one of the funniest sounds you'll ever hear, and I got to hear it on a nightly basis. I heard it last night. Even when it kept me awake sometimes as her snores rattled the windows, I have treasured that weird yodel-y sound as it fluttered through her flappy lips.

Those summer days will be in my heart forever. And when the weather would turn cold, and my seasonal depression would get bad, I felt better because she'd let herself become a couch potato with time, and realized "Hey, I can sleep on Kate's bed when she's not on it! Score!" She was content, at last, after years of us working so hard to find a balance. That's what I've held onto all this time, what I'll hold onto in the coming months, years, decades. That she's content, and happy, and she knows that she is loved more than anything in this world.

I've grown and changed with her. It's been eleven and a half years, we had to have. I've lost family and gained family. Drifted apart from friends like an idiot when I should've held on. Sometimes I don't know if the person I've become is who I want to be, or need to be, but when I'm with her, it's fine. Because I was who she needed. I became an adult. I found new interests and hobbies; I found writing, I re-found art, I found music and making friendship bracelets and a little bit of sewing recently, though I'm bad at it. I found historical subjects, mythologies and folklore, stories I never knew existed, that fascinate me. I found Lord of the Rings and Captain Marvel and Paramore and Taylor Swift with her. I still don't always know who I am, but I found myself. And every bit of that, Lucy was next to me, watching me as I discovered it, listening to me sing to her and ramble on about whatever I was doing on the days we sat out on the porch or in my room, just us, and I needed someone to talk to. She was always a good listener.

I'm still struggling with my mental health, everyone in my family is. And I know the next few months are going to be hard. But every bit of my life with her, I've been happy, even when it got hard. Because Lucy was my dog, and I was her human, and we were Kate and Lucy. My only regret is how long it took us to find our balance, find out how to coexist when we were so different but the same at the start. I will always regret how long it took, even if I was a confused child for half of it, but I never gave up. I couldn't. Because she never gave up on me, even when I had no idea what I was doing. Anything else—the grief, the frustration, the fear—I regret none of it. I never will.

Because through it all, I had Lucy. And Lucy had me. And now, if you've read all this, as I rambled my way through our story, trying not to cry and laughing at some of the memories, maybe you know her a little bit too. Everything on the internet is forever, right? Well, now our story is forever. Lucy is forever.

And she will be in my heart forever, too. I love you, Lucy. My Goose, my Goober, my Goofus, my Lucy-Goosey Mongoose, my "no, no, stop that, please stop eating stuff you find in the yard!". I love your squishy face and your droopy lips and your floppy ears. I love your loud barks and your window-rattling snores and your incredibly weird sleeping positions. I love your big brown eyes and your goofy grin and your misunderstanding of the word 'gimme five' regularly leading to you enthusiastically smacking me in the face with your big ol' paws. I love how I had to show you how to chew apple slices with your back teeth because you'd never had one before, and how you'd mooch for a carrot that was supposed to go to the horses only to spit it out three seconds later and then immediately try mooching for another. I loved teaching you to boop me with your nose when it was clear you weren't comfortable with kisses as a way to show affection, despite the numerous times you almost broke my nose. I love you. I love you. I love you. You have been part of me since April 12, 2012. You always will be part of me. One of the best parts.

And now you're forever.

#tw: grief #tw: depression #tw: suicidal thoughts mention #tw: parent death #tw: pet death #tw: pet loss #tw: long post #i don't know what to tag this #im honestly swerving back and forth between “ill be okay” and completely numb and just falling apart at the seams #im gonna be okay i just need time I think #whoever reads this thank you #i just... needed to let this out #dogs

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